Health Warning: Serial Dating Sends You Blind

I wonder sometimes what the point of serial dating is. As a stand-alone activity, like, say, attending spin class or taking archery lessons, I'm not sure why it's so popular because, frankly, it's painful. And you never really get anywhere. It's just one fresh body after another.

Serial dating - which I define as successive bouts of fewer than ten dates - gets old really quickly. Meeting and beginning the discovery process sounds and feels like a legal proceeding after a while. All the same stuff has to be asked ie;

+ where do you come from?

+ what do you do for a living?

+ dog person or cat person?

+ spit or swallow (when wine tasting)?

...ad infinitum like some kind of early-round beauty pageant from hell. That's not a bad metaphor as I think of it, because that's what we're doing here, hoping to uncover the one we find most attractive in swimwear, dinner wear, lounge wear and underwear.

Or are we? Are we really looking for someone we want to spend our time adoring and making happy? Or has the thrill of a new possibility every three weeks taken over?

Clearly, some people like the game of dating. They're the serial life re-decorators who enjoy squeezing facts out of the newbie and finding a few that resonate. (For a two week emotional blitz.) This is using people as ornament, an enterprise that probably works short-term, but will leave you with the equivalent of an emotional hangover untreatable in the long term. Sex might be involved, but it's the Cliffs notes of sex, not the awesome component of a great marriage.

I think this is a problem. Dating should be about finding someone for the long-term. Despite my flippancy, I believe that dating as a form of sport isn't good for either men or women. The emotional cost of the meeting/discovery/sex/break-up cycle can be controlled in the short term, but gradually wears you out. And the resulting danger is that when the right person does pop into your life, you might be too jaded to notice, too blind too see.

New is fun, but depth is better.



Bottoms Up, Serious Daters.

What Is the Best Food Type For A Date?

Yes, it's calculating, but planning our first few dates will reward us.

If the aim is to create positive energy around yourself, we need to think about what will engender the best and the worst feeling towards us in, say, the first ten dates, and avoid the downside traps. Eating is a natural date focus, so let's start there.

What turns people off? Some answers are obvious: BO, nose-picking, lack of eye contact, talking over the talker, snaggly fingernails. These are general no-nos, but each kind of date has specific dangers. Where food is involved, turn-offs include inappropriate or awkward utensil usage, sloppy plate technique, chewing/talking with mouth full, burping, having food lodge between teeth etc. You can add to this list.

Now I'm not saying that any of these things will kill a budding relationship, only that, on average, they're best avoided. What we're doing here is eliminating the possibility of small errors by careful choice of venue.

Some specific examples:

Sushi:

A popular date choice, because it implies sophistication and worldliness. WARNING: Unless you're a certified chopsticks professional, be careful. All the good work done in choosing the restaurant and knowing that in Japan one always pours drinks for the other person and never for oneself can be undone with the loss of a fatty tuna down your shirt.

French: 

Another interesting foodie-type choice, if that's your bent. Your date will be impressed, but not if you eat all seventeen courses. You might have to let your belt out a notch (unattractive). Another problem is that you'll look like a prat if you attempt to bluff the waiter, especially if they're French. Haughtiness and cutting customers down to size is a specialty of the Frogs. Ruining your date here is best avoided.

Mongolian BBQ:

Ummm, yeah. No. Never take a woman to anything with "Mongolian" in the name. Until  you've been married twenty years. Even then, think verrrrrrrrry carefully.

Tapas:

Tapas has a number of advantages for a date. One is that the many plates keep up the interest factor. Second is that the timing is flexible - you needn't stay longer than you want. A third is the bite-size portions are neat and unspillable. Fourth, the drinks will cater to almost any taste. All-in-all, a Tapas place is a good date choice.

Pastry/Coffee:

Ostensibly an easy choice, there are problems with the coffee-shop date. Should you eat your muffin with a fork, or with your fingers? Do you scoop the crumbs? What to do when the only seats available are right next to the 'homeless' bum who spends all day sitting with one small black coffee cruising porn on the free wi-fi and eavesdropping on conversations between new daters? Ugh. 

High-End Steakhouse:

This is a low-risk (if pricey) option. Downside possibilities are meat caught between teeth, choosing an inappropriate wine (and having the wait staff snicker) and running out of money. But the more formal atmosphere can be a nice change, creating ladies and gentlemen of us. Sitting up straight and looking one another in the eye can lead to good things. 

Breakfast:

I like breakfast dates. You and your date choose exactly what you need, so the food isn't an issue. There's coffee involved, which is always a bonus. And everyone feels happier after breaking one's night-time fast. Usually there will be a neat end to the date, or not, depending on the day of the week. That works.

You get the picture. These examples show my own biases, but with a little forethought, you'll be able to figure out your own.

Planning - the key to a better first ten dates.



Edit: Oh, puhlease. Never.




Bottoms Up, Date Architects.

Cerealization

Finding the right person can be a chore or a delight, depending upon how you look at it. Yes, first dates can be energy-sapping. Yes, meeting so many incompatibles is dispiriting. Yes, you will question your will to live. Too often you'll wonder how so many weird, self-absorbed, boring, ill and frankly unappealing people think they might have a future with your bright, optimistic, balanced, gorgeous self. But we must endure.

I compare the process to deciding upon a breakfast cereal - in a world of infinite choice, start by precluding huge swathes. For instance, anyone over the age of ten should consider avoiding any cereal with an animal or super-hero mascot. Then there are the key words 'pops', 'frosted', 'loops', and 'smacks', all of which tell you that nutrition can be found in the box, but only inasmuch as you think cups of sugar are good for you.

The big-picture dating prospects to avoid IMO are folks with an untreated depressive illness; those who have any kind of addictive partiality; anyone with unresolved parental or family difficulties; and anyone who doesn't floss.

Shoot me, but I believe in immaculate oral hygiene.

Given that first dates - or a bunch of them strung together - are exhausting, we can filter a lot of maybes beforehand by figuring if any of the big deal-breakers (above) pertain. You can get pretty good at ferreting out the info you need with well-timed pre-date questions, eg:

So, are you an alcoholic?

or

I'm on anti-depressants myself. You too?

See how I did that without alerting them?

Once it looks as if they're not Froot Loops or Cap'n Crunch, then a first date is worth a shot. Still and all, low expectations will keep you mentally upright, because even the best filters are only a start.


Bottoms Up, Shoppers.

The Dating Horizon - Wombatgram #24

The triumph of imagination over reality leads to all sorts of dissatisfaction and grumpiness. Best to figure out what's likely, what's possible, and what that one-night stand will actually lead to.

For greater clarity, click on Wombatgram. 


Previous efforts. 



Bottoms Up, Simplificators.

Being In The Moment, Until the End.

Morgane Slemp pic credit.

Is dating an extended job interview or an end unto itself? If it's an interview, what is the job? And if dating's the thing, why is it so fraught?

~/\~

In my experience, whenever people talk about their dating lives, there's a whisper of unfulfillment in the air. They drift off into an unspoken wistfulness, eg:


Oh, we're dating. Nothing serious... or

Yep, been dating a year or so now....

It's never (apart from initially)

OMG! I love it! We're dating!*

~/\~

Mismatched intentions doom many budding romances. It's the question everyone loathes, viz:

Where are we going with this?

If either dater feels the need to ask this question, it's over. If he or she doesn't communicate clearly some kind of goal that's vaguely related to yours, without prompting, asking the question merely emphasizes likely relationship termination.

~/\~

It's possible that I, like many others, am brainwashed into thinking that dating is only ever a road to somewhere else. Dating as its own reward can work, but requires the kind of communication rarely seen when people first meet and want to make matters more formal.

Kate, I want to spend more time with you, to date you. However, at this point I have no interest nor plans beyond that. All good with you?

Or

Doug, just date me. That's all I want.

~/\~

* Granted, beyond a certain age, this might be the case.

Bottoms Up, Existentialists.

Sexy is as Sexy Does

 Catherine Bell's cleavage credit.

Be advised that anything I write about online dating refers to women only. Although you would think that checking out the opposition [read: other guys hawking their fork] a smart strategy, doing so is beyond me. Comfort with one's sexuality is one thing - deliberately investigating dudes is quite another.

Can't. Tell. Internet. I. Want. To. Look. At. Men.

So I rely on you, dear reader, to tell stories of male profile quirks.

Spectacular as bulk online Lady Catalogues are, my interest is in the detail. One popular specific self-descriptor is that of "sexy", as in:

"...I'm a sexy, giving, mother of two looking to find a real man..."

I see. A cynic might translate this as:

"...I like sex (a lot) but will be restricted by these damn kids and your own dick's reliability..."

But I'm not a cynic. I'm a realist, and therefore think that sexiness lies in the eye of the beholder.  Surely I get to determine if you're sexy?...And your very presence online contraindicates.

Hmmm. Perhaps I am a cynic.




Bottoms Up, Self- Assessors.

What's Your Number?

Anna Faris pic credit.

Dating movies never cut it with me. Except that THIS one looks more like it.

The premise comes straight from the single thirty-something woman's field of screams - that having more than twenty past lovers makes you statistically unmarriage-able. Or more accurately, unable to find the love of one's life.

Sounds like bollox to me.

Then again, it might be the best date-night movie in a long time.





And the big Hollywood promo looks pretty funny too.





Bottoms Up, Lookers and Doubters.

Disbelief

Photo of Miss Shahi from here.

I shake my head and close my eyes in disbelief at how we proceed to find partners. We go looking - actively looking - for complete strangers and give them the once-over with an eye to compatibility. We imagine, project, hope, wish, long, mask and guess our way to deciding that he or she might be a good-un, despite evidence to the contrary.

I'm criticizing me and my own behaviour, in which I can confidently assume others indulge.

From my own experience, a few words from someone familiar with dating and mating ins-and-outs would have been infinitely valuable. Parents are supposed to give us a clue about all this...a problematic concept if ever. Relationship education exists, but we need to learn earlier than the point at which, say, I would turn to self-help books or seek the advice of trusted peers.

So that's the thing - trial and error, mistakes and recovery, and hope and optimism are the three Donkeys of Dating Discovery, and 'twas ever thus.

Or is that six donkeys?




Bottoms Up, Eternal Learners.

Inquiring Minds

Evan Rachel Wood photo credit.

First dates are a stressful beast, best avoided. All very well, but unless you're already with someone or have taken a vow of celibacy, skipping the Big Number One is impossible.

Oh, we could try some word-play, by calling it "meeting for coffee" or "getting together for a cocktail" but we all know a first date by any name is still a first date: in essence, it's a job interview.

Separating the first date from merely meeting someone is the unspoken fact that sex is on the table. Perhaps not immediately, but at some point, both parties are sizing up the other as not only a potential day-to-day partner, but a sexual partner as well. Let's say that if sex isn't on the table, it's certainly lurking under the table.

Subtext. Sex is the subtext on all first dates. Which is a pity, because we all know that thinking about sex - even peripherally - leads to dumbing down the rest of our thought process. When Mr Penis or Misses Ovaries take over, deep thought is deep-sixed. That's my experience.

In any case, I'm trying to re-formulate the First Date, thinking of ways to make it less charged, and more like two people spending time in new company. If you have any ideas about the kind of questions you would like to ask, or would like asked of you on such a date, I'd be keen to know.

How can we connect and communicate better?





Bottoms Up, Thinkers.

Wombatgram #17 - Field Guide to the Egotist

In the heat of dating, ego is easily mislabelled. I've seen it called confidence, or arrogance or even a mask for shyness.

The egotistical man is relatively simple to spot.

Of course, I'm assuming you think it's undesirable...and I might be wrong.





Bottoms Up, Super Id.

New Date Types - Wombatgram #15

Words don't always describe the kind of date your friends want to know ALL about.

Herewith, my suggestions.

Click on Wombatgram for biggah pictuh.



Bottoms Up New Age Daters.

First Date Failure

A friend ragged me today via txt about my recent first date failure. She's the one who thinks I'm a narcissist. Stuff like this:

I can't believe she didn't fall for your charms.

Dripping sarcasm like a cheap hooker's pussy.

It made my day until I realized that only a narcissist would look favourably upon such a thinly veiled insult.

Here's another question I would like to ask a woman: [previously in the series]

Choose your favourite from among the following evenings out;

1. An orchestral performance.

2. A broadway-style musical production.

3. A modern music concert eg: The Beatles.

4. A night at an Irish pub listening to Gaelic music.




Flautist from here [link]

I Don't Care About Your Band

Also published at Blogger Critics Network.

Julie Klausner has Double-D-sized breasts.

I have yet to meet Julie or her breasts, but when I discovered this awesome fact, the whole thing made sense. Trouble was, her mammarial revelation didn't come until the second half of her book, so I had to start over.

This, then, is why I read "I Don't Care About Your Band"* two and one-thirds times. Breasts give a man perspective, a couple of reference nipples from which to view the rest of the woman. Until that point I was amused but lost. Once Julie's chest found sharp focus, I had to re-read everything up until the breast-size epiphany; then I had to finish it off (the book, pervs); then I had to re-read all the dirty bits.

The picture in my mind is of a sex-obsessed redhaired girl with big tits, blindfold, in lingerie, groping around a room in a desperate quest for a penis. She's a Jewish Princess at a piñata party, smashing her way into the pants of any man who shows even the vaguest interest. As an idea for a role-play sex game, that sounds like fun, but as a metaphor for finding someone, it's a disaster. Which is a great word for Miss Klausner's dating life in New York, although by her own admission, it's a selective history.

My question is: How did she miss with those puppies? I constantly referred back to her picture on the cover, wondering how the hell this vixen failed so well so often. Maybe if she'd walked around Manhattan topless, her love life would have been different.

Which of course is the point of the book. Who wants to read about dating suxxess? It's infinitely more fun for we readers to get smug at dating horror. Even hotties don't get laid.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Something That Might Interest You

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Because we dating and relationship bloggers are a cool bunch, I want to start something new.

I will be sending this copy of Julie Klausner's book to another blogger for review. That blogger will read it and post his or her thoughts, and then send the book on to another blogger for their review, and so on. Everyone who reviews will link back to all previous reviews, thereby forming a kind of extended multi-review.

Should we call this the Blogger Book Review Network or something more snappy?

I am looking for input; if you're interested in participating, whether a better system exists, whatever you think.

Edit: Snaf will be receiving the book to review. She seemed the best fit, being both single and a New Yorker like Miss Klausner. Next week I have another item to check out.




*I Don't Care About Your Band. What I Learned from Indie Rockers, Trust Funders, Pornographers, Felons, Faux Sensitive Hipsters, and other Guys I've Dated by Julie Klausner. ISBN 978-1-592-40561-9

Published by Gotham Books, a divvy of Penguin. They sent it to me, free.


Klausner links [site] [tumblr]

Edited for overuse. Words, that is.