Of Course He's Paying for Dinner!

I was talking to a friend the other day who had gone on a first date with a guy she'd just met.  They had a great dinner at a restaurant he'd chosen, and she hoped to see him again.   She was telling a funny story about some mix-up with the check and how they sorted it out when I realized that they had split the bill.   "Wait, he didn't pay for your dinner?", I said incredulously.   "Well, no", she said, and went on to explain that she offered to pay for her own dinner and he accepted.   I asked her if she thought there had been a romantic spark between them because, as far as I was concerned, they hadn't been on a date.  They were just two friends having dinner.

In my opinion, the guy pays on the first date.  No exceptions.  That's what differentiates it from two platonic friends hanging out.  That's what makes it a date. 

I don't think the guy has to pay for every dinner date, but he should pay for the first one.  I always offer to pay for my meal on the first date and it's not a half-hearted offer.  I mean it.  What's unsaid, though, is that if he accepts then there will be no second date.

And you know what, that's almost never an issue.  I've probably only gone out with 1-2 men in my lengthy dating life who allowed me to pay for my own meal on a first date.   Even when it was pretty clear that we might not see each other again, most guys I've gone out with insist on paying. 

I have noticed that this whole splitting-the-bill thing is often a function of the generational divide.   In my experience, guys over, say, 45 usually insist on paying.  It's only when I'm out with much younger men that they seem to be confused about their responsibility in this situation (confused is my word, probably not theirs).  I blame feminism because younger guys grew up in a time when "equality for women" was supposedly accepted, and they're taking it a little too literally and apparently think it applies to dating.   And I very much consider myself a feminist...I'm just not paying for my dinner.

What do y'all think?  Who pays for the first date?  Please take the poll to the right, and also add a comment telling me why you voted the way you did.





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My Encounter with Hugh Jackman

This past Saturday was a glorious day; the first sunny Saturday we've had in NYC after an unusually cold and snowy winter.  It was a perfect day for a bike ride along the Hudson river with my friends Kim and Amy.  

We had fun riding among all the folks out enjoying the day: runners, other bikers, roller bladers, people out for a stroll...and that one little boy who totally changed my day.

I saw him out of the corner of my eye and I couldn't believe what was happening.  As only a little boy can do, he took off running in the opposite direction from which he faced, not looking...just running.  Just as he reached me, I slammed on the brakes.  Two bad moves.  I went flying, the bike somersaulted over me.  I hit the ground HARD and my bike landed on top of me.  I was stunned.  I lay there for a minute to collect myself.  My friends helped me sit up.  I really was seeing those proverbial stars.  Then I saw a single star (cheap pun). He asked me if I was okay.   Hugh Jackman. The little boy --who apologized profusely-- was with Hugh and his son. 

When I noticed people taking pictures I thought to myself "omg, I must really be hurt".  It took me a minute to realize that it wasn't my picture they wanted.  Hugh couldn't have been nicer.  He hung around until he was sure I was okay...hence the picture with him which, in his own words, "was the least he could do".

Here's what I learned from this bike accident:

• You just never know...

• What it feels like to ache e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e, and with a headache that lasts 24+ hours

•  It's true what they say about time slowing down. As I was flying and falling, it felt like I was watching it in slow motion.  A very weird sensation.

• The world's cutest Yorkie may have already had his last bike ride. Like a crazy dog lady, I sometimes ride my bike with my dog in a knapsack on my back.  He loves it.  I didn't have him with me that day and I shudder to think how he would have fared in the accident.  

•  Wear the damn bike helmut all the time.  Really.  All the time.  I was so unbelievably lucky that day.  While I always wear my helmet when riding in traffic, I'm a lot less diligent when riding along the bike path because "what could happen"?  Well, now I know what can happen and if I hadn't been wearing my helmet when I crashed to the ground, this story probably would have had a much different outcome.

• Wear lipstick at all times because you never know when you'll have your picture taken.

So as I spent most of my Sunday resting from what I'm told is probably a mild concussion, I was struck by how many of my friends were more impressed with my photo with Hugh Jackman than they were that I somersaulted over my bike and didn't break anything in the fall.


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Dressing My Age. What?!

The miniskirt is back, and I'm so happy!   I'm also a little confused.  Some days I know exactly what dressing my age means.  Other times, I'm not so sure. 

We like to claim that "a woman should feel free to wear whatever she wants," and I mostly believe that.  But that's also one of those sayings that I wish were true more than it actually is true.  I think most of us can think of a time we've seen an older lady dressed in an outfit that was just wrong—not because it was ill-fitting, but because it was much too young...like it belonged to her teenage daughter.

I know—who am I to decide what's "much too young?"  It's hard to say, but I kinda know it when I see it (and I know you do, too), and I don't want to be that woman.
 
In general, my attire tends toward stylish but not trendy. I like to look good, but I'm a lazy shopper, so I need clothes that will work for many seasons.  I can’t be bothered with an item of clothing that has a short shelf life.   And that’s why I actually might have been that woman a few times, though I don’t like to admit it.  The downside of staying pretty much the same size most of my adult life is that I can still fit into clothes I wore many years ago. At one point, I think my girlfriends were going to do an intervention on me if I didn’t stop wearing my beloved Daisy Dukes (inappropriately short cut-off denim jeans, for those unfamiliar with the term.). 

Rather than admit that I was a little long in the tooth for shorts that short, I decided that they were just jealous because they could no longer fit into theirs. I eventually and reluctantly retired my short shorts…kind of. Now I wear them only on vacation.  Mostly I dress like a grown-up now.

 
I've always loved short skirts and dresses. But then, at one point, I started wearing my hemlines at a more respectable length.  I decided that if I was going to shake my head at other women who looked like they’d been shopping in the juniors department, then I should stop being one of them.   I convinced myself that they looked foolish, but I looked cute.  But it was getting tough to keep up the self-delusion.  When I started a new job, I used that as an excuse to try out a new look.  I bought myself a few skirts and dresses with hemlines designed for a more grown-up" woman.
 
OMG.  Way too boring.
      
I looked matronly.  Like I was losing my mojo.  And I couldn't have that.  So my hemlines started to creep back up—not quite to mini length, but up above my knees.  Where they belonged.

I heard or read somewhere that if you were old enough to wear a trend the first time around then you're probably too old for it the next time. Makes sense, right?   But you know what?  To heck with that.  Remember how I said a few paragraphs back that I no longer want to be that woman who's rocking an outfit that's too young?  I've decided that I don't really care.  I'm wearing my minis.  Proudly.  Spinsterliciously.   Because they're fun.  Watch out!  

 

This and other fun posts are also available at  Women's Voices for Change


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18 Random Things About Me

Occasionally I get an email from a "reader friend" who expresses curiosity about me, so I thought I'd do a variation of a Facebook Notes thingy that asks people to share with their friends random facts about themselves.  I think you're supposed to do 25; all I have is 18.  Here goes:

•  I'm a really lousy drinker. I love a good cocktail, and am distressed that I can get drunk after just one. 

•   I love that I have a wide-range of really different and wonderful friends...many who've been in my life for 20+ years 

• Some of the smartest decisions I've ever made include (in no particular order): moving to NYC, buying my vacation home in E. Quogue, going into therapy, and getting the cutest dog ever (Danny)

•  I'm much shyer and much more of a loner than most people know. A Myers-Briggs personality test says I'm "an introvert who masquerades as an extrovert". I think they got it right.

•  I strongly believe that you gotta play the hand you're dealt. No whining.

•  I've had a lot of death in my life: both parents, three sisters, a good friend, and a host of close relatives. It really makes you appreciate who you have.

•  My favorite pastime is travel. When I go broke, it won't be because I've bought too much stuff; it'll be because I wandered too far too many times.

•  I own a lot of things that are out-dated, half broken, or just really worn. I have a hard time parting with it if it's not quite dead yet.

•  I like country music.

•  I hate working out. Hate it. Hate it. So...I walk almost anywhere I can, just to counteract this just a little bit.

•  My favorite candy is Haribo gummy bears, Dots, and Swedish Fish...which is kinda all the same thing.

•  I'm actually a pretty good cook...but pretend not to be because I don't usually want to be bothered.

•  A pair of jeans and a t-shirt are all I really need.  By changing my shoes (which I love so much more), I think I've got a whole new outfit!

•  Doing (or pretending to do) the Sunday NY Times crossword puzzle is one of my favorite weekend activities.

•  I researched my family tree on my mom's and dad's side. It was lovely, and made me feel very close to these strange, yet familiar, people I've never had the pleasure of meeting.

•  When I campaigned for Obama, I felt like I was doing something reeaallly important for the first time in a really long time (or maybe for the first time in my life).

•  I really see the glass as 1/2 full...but I can't resist the sarcasm...so I wonder what it's full of! :-)

• I dance and sing in front of my mirror almost every day.

So, there you go: 18 random pieces of useless information about me.  I would really love it if each person who reads this post adds one random piece of info about her/himself.  C'mon...


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Later, Chuck

Chuck and I have been really good friends for 10+ years.  Always platonic, we've seen each other through multiple relationships, jobs, the deaths of our parents, and thousands of parties, movies, meals and laughs.   We spoke on the phone at least once a week and hung out almost as often.  When Hannah and I became friends, she quickly became part of the team.  We were a threesome.  Of course we had other good friends, but the three of us were also our own thing.

So imagine my surprise (Hannah's too) when Chuck dumped us.  He had a new girlfriend and, apparently, no longer needed us.  It was interesting because he's had lots of new girlfriends through the years, but for some reason this one is different.  We went from hanging out every week or two -to- well...never.   Just like that.

When I was in high school, sometimes girls would drop their friends once they got a boyfriend.  But that was high school...when we were still immature...before we understood that your friends shouldn't just be placeholders for until you found something better.

Hannah and I talked about this a lot because we were really surprised.  Was this deliberate -or- was he so caught up in the excitement of this new love that he completely forgot about us?  We figured he'd come to his senses in a few months.  After a year went by, it finally dawned on us (we're a little slow) that this was real.  Chuck was done with us.  We spoke to him about this a few times foolishly thinking he'd "correct" his behavior.  He didn't. 

I'm really curious about this.   I don't know another grown-up who has behaved this way.  Sometimes when friends get married or have a kid they'll disappear for a short time while they adjust to their new circumstances, but it's always temporary.  Who stops calling friends to say "how are you"?   How hard is that?

Here's what I do know:  he and girlfriend better be "happy ever after", because his insensitive butt cannot come crawling back here trying to pick up where we left off if he gets his feelings hurt. 

Have y'all ever had this happen to you? 



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When Is a Pet Just a Pet?

Q: When is a pet just a pet?

A: When it lives in the home of a “traditional” family: husband, wife, 2+ adorable kids.  It’s part of Americana.


In a different scenario, though, Cute Pet is a substitute for something important. If you’re a single woman, especially of-a-certain-age, and you have a dog or cat . . . well, suddenly everybody’s a psychologist and they’ve determined that you’re trying to fix something.

One day I was on the phone with my married-with-children friend, B, and I realized that she's not listening to me;
she's talking to someone else in the room.  Actually, she's talking to her dog, Charlie, who is kind of adorable...but
she's cooing at him and using baby talk.  Hearing her do that was pretty cute but I also realized that if I did that people would find it sad.

Science, literature, news reports, and popular magazines are rife with stories on the benefits of pet ownership.  Pets are good for you; they’re good for your mental health, your emotional health, your physical health.  They boost your self esteem. (Yep.)  And if it’s a dog (I’m a little biased in that direction), they’re just a joy to have around.  If
you search “benefits of pet ownership” online, you’ll get 929,000 hits on Google alone. That’s right—almost 1 million opportunities to learn what’s great about having a pet and why so many people love them.

It should be all good then, right? Yet I, a single woman, am sometimes amused—but mostly befuddled—at how many people comment that my dog is taking the place of the husband I don’t have, the child I don’t have, or both.

I live with an 11-year-old Yorkie, who I believe is the cutest dog in the world. He’s delightful. But for a reason I don’t understand, folks like to elevate him from his pet status to a fill-in for some dark hole in my life.  A dark hole that doesn’t exist, by the way.  It seems it’s not possible that I love having a dog for the same reason everybody else does: he’s cute, fun, cuddly, good company, a loyal companion, and he knows the real meaning of uncompromised love. That’s what people with families love about their dogs, too.

I know lots of married people with children for whom the dog is a serious, solid, main companion to one of the adults in the house. They usually say the dog is “for the kids,” but in actuality, Fido really belongs to mommy or daddy.  And there’s nothing wrong with that. But no one ever asks if mom/dad is hanging out with the dog because their spouse ignores them, or if it’s a fill-in for the poor relationship they have with their kids, or because they’re lonely in a house full of people. Nope, it’s just a pet.

Married? The dog’s just part of the family.  Single? The dog’s replacing what you’re missing in your pathethic little life.  That’s b.s., ok?  Stop it.

“Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.” 
—Anatole France

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Are Kids More Expensive Than They're Worth?

Someone sent me this article that ran on Time.com last week:  Kid Crazy: Why We Exaggerate the Joys of Parenthood.  I read it and was slightly appalled even though I agree with some of it.   It's all about how kids are so expensive that they're an "economically silly investment", and that they're a drain on parents' happiness.  We've seen that before (see Jennifer Senior's article in New York Magazine on kids:  All Joy and No Fun) but the writer of this recent article, John Cloud, goes on to say that having kids makes parents delusional. Delusional because they're "in the grip of a giant illusion"; the illusion being that their kids are worth it.  That's when I became interested because it is a new twist.

He compares having kids to any other foolish deal we make and the way we all then try to convince others and ourselves that it really was a good deal.  Like when you spend more of your money than you should on a BMW because it really is "the ultimate driving machine", when you probably should have bought an Acura.   Like when you buy an overpriced TV that you can show off because it's the latest in technology (like you need that).  Like last week when I paid $400 for some cute shoes by Chloe and...well, I'm still trying to rationalize that one, but you get the point.

The article takes a tougher stance than I do.  I never wanted kids and I usually try to limit my exposure to other people's kids to a few minutes (that way, they still seem cute), but even I wouldn't go so far as to say they're a foolish investment.  A time suck, maybe, but not foolish. Plus, somebody's gotta do it, right?    What do y'all think?


 
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Short Stint As An Advice Columnist

 Ms. Ann Landers, the Queen of All Advice Columnists

I am not related to Ann Landers, but for some reason, I am often asked by young women for my advice on life and love.  It's flattering because it means that they admire something I've done and think I must know what I'm talking about.   Most of them are 15+ years younger than I am and I would think they'd see my advice as "old lady advice", but they don't.   When I was a young woman, it would never have occurred to me to ask a much-older woman for her advice on men or career.  I think I would have thought times had changed too much and her thinking would be old-fashioned. 

It's nice to be asked and in the past month or so, I've found myself happily sharing my opinions with some young 'uns who wanted to know my thoughts.  I say "happily" because I usually have an opinion on most things, but people don't always want to know what it is.  In these three cases, they all wanted advice on having, as G called it: "a life that doesn't suck".  Two of them were specific: marriage or not?  This is clearly a sign of the times because, since the dawn of (wo)man, marriage was usually just assumed (not by me, but by most people).  

I take these conversations seriously because I don't want one of these young women to end up with a life that does suck and it's my fault, so I try really hard to share lessons from my own life but to also weave in my observations, what I've learned from other people, and stuff I've read or picked up along the way.  I promised one of them that I'd write it all down so here it is!

• Marriage: I'm not anti-marriage.  It didn't feel right for me, but I think it's right for a lot of people.   I do think it's important to know why you want to do it.  If the need to do so is coming from anywhere other than your own heart, then you should re-think it.  Family pressures, societal rules, and/or a feeling that marriage will validate you are not good reasons and if you succumb to this you could end up really sad.  (However, if you're from a very rich family who might cut you out of the family fortune if you don't marry Clive, then go ahead and marry him...then call me and we'll figure out a different plan for you).   And while I don't think marriage is a necessity for everyone, I do think relationships are important.  It is good to have someone to share the joys and trials of your life with...whether he's there forever or just for the time-being.   This is probably the one thing I would have done differently: because I didn't want to get married, I never really bothered to learn how to be in a long-term relationship.  I was usually good with "love 'im and leave 'im".  Now I'm thinking the same guy for a long time would be nice.

• Babies: Pretty much the exact same advice as above.  Think hard about why you want one...or more than one.  I do think you should be in a solid relationship.  I also think you need to get over needing your own space because you won't get it.

• Dating across the color line: I mostly think you should go out with whomever you mesh with.  I usually encourage them to look beyond their "type".  Young black women, in particular, should be open to relationships that don't look like what they expected.  Basically, it's a numbers game.

• Life in general: Build the best life for yourself that you can.  That means find a job where you do something that you really enjoy or care about.  It's miserable spending 8+ hours a day doing something you don't like.  If you love travel, find a job where you'll travel or one that pays you enough so you can travel on your own.  In other words, learn enough about yourself to know what you enjoy and then put the pieces in place that can make that happen.  You probably shouldn't get married or have kids until you kinda know what these things are.  So, for example, if being near the ocean makes you feel complete, don't move to Oklahoma.  Look at a map and move somewhere where you're at least within a couple of hours reach of what you want.

• Have a great circle of good friends. They make all the difference.  But they have to really be friends.  Not Facebook friends.  Not fair-weather friends.  Not friends who hurt you under the guise of being honest (aka "frenemies").  Real friends...who you trust and whose company you genuinely enjoy.

One of the most important lessons I've learned is "we teach people how to treat us".  That means, if someone in your life repeatedly treats you poorly, it's because --in part-- you have accepted it.  Think about it.  This is not blaming the victim; it's about speaking up for yourself and not accepting treatment that's beneath you.  Easier said than done, I know...but more legal than homicide.


So I don't start to sound too too preachy, I'm going to quit now.  But if you have some wise words you want to share with a younger generation of women, please help me out.  Send in your thoughts (or correct me where I'm wrong!)



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Can't Buy Me Love

Last week, I flew to L.A. to attend Essence Magazine's Black Women in Hollywood annual event.  It was amazing, inspiring, and a heckuva lot of fun.   Sitting behind me on the plane was a woman who talked much too loudly about the ridiculous relationship she was in. (Ridiculous is my word, not hers).

Girlie was going on and on about all the wonderful things her man has bought her through the years.  He is a Hollywood agent and apparently has the means to buy her lots of expensive things...things like jewelry, fancy clothes, her 35 pairs of Christian Louboutins, and her Mercedes Benz.  In fact, at that moment, she was returning to Los Angeles from a New York City shopping trip he'd financed (because I guess she needed more shoes).

I was starting to weary of this overheard conversation until she said something that made my ears perk up.  Girlie said "I'm not even sure what he did this time, but it must have been a doozy. I know I'll find out soon enough".   She went on to tell her friend that Mr. Hollywood Agent buys her "something wonderful" every time he Effs up (she said the real word).

Even though she wasn't talking to me, I was very confused.  Was she bragging?  She seemed to be bragging about this, proud even...and I kept waiting for her friend to tell her "that's ridiculous".  I even thought about leaning over my seat to tell her myself, but I then I thought better of it.  You never know who's crazy and it was too  long a flight to have a crazy person who's mad at me sitting behind me.  So I said nothing.  

It reminded me, though, of how I had once been in a similar situation.  Not similar in that my guy bought me stuff when he "effed up", but similar in that he used gifts as a proxy for his inadequacies.  The first few times he did it I was a little uncomfortable, and then it fairly quickly progressed to being offensive to me.

My guy didn't have Hollywood Agent money but he had quite a bit, and he used it to communicate the feelings he was unable to express.   Instead of hugs and compliments, I got things.  Really nice things because he had really good taste, but I could not make him understand why stuff is not an acceptable substitute for effective communication.

This was crazy.  I had to bounce.  He still thinks I'm nutty for leaving a man who liked to buy me things, and I'm sure Girlie would say the same thing...though I suspect that, deep down inside, she knows why it's wrong.


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