I recently polled a bunch of hot young ladies in their 20-30 something years on what type of break-up communication would be least offensive to them. The poll came on the tail of a conversation with a friend of the male persuasion who had sent a break-up email to a woman after one date. He suffered great distress when I told him his break-up email was totally terrible and offensive. To investigate my claim, I sent out this poll:
So, you go on one date with a guy, and a few days later he sends you an email that basically says he doesn't want to go out again. Which reason would make you feel better? And would you prefer an email or a call?
1) I had a great time, but I met someone else and I want to focus on that right now.
2) I had a great time, but I felt more of a friend connection with you rather than a relationship connection.
****
Here are the results:
67% of women preferred the call. 22% preferred email and said they wanted to avoid an awkward conversation. 11% had no preference.
It was a three way tie over which option was better.
33% said they were on the fence with the reasons, saying: either reason was acceptable, both were gross, or as long as it was the truth it didn't matter.
33% chose option 1, the "I met someone else" reason. However, two of these women also found the merit of option 2, the "we don't have a connection" reason. They reasoned that at first, option 2 sounded like a lie. Which is good. This means we all think of ourselves as very sexy, and good self-esteem is important!
33% chose option 2. They reasoned it sounded nicer, and was classier than admitting one was dating around.
Everyone added some editorial comments. Here are some of my favorites:
"Honestly, I am thinking I'd rather hear that they met someone else...I could be mad at him and the other woman, which would help me get over it faster."
"I can understand getting along with someone else more and respect him for saying so......But I'd also let him know I do not plan to be a back up so don't call for another date if that's his decision!"
"I appreciate honesty and being direct, but [option 1] is just simply poor taste.
Decency? Manners? All a thing of the past."
"I think either is acceptable.
PS - He's stupid."
"I would feel more comfortable if I got an email from him instead of a phone call. After you read the email you can write him back and say thanks for the input...have a great life!"
"Email is a pussy way to get out of any more dates."
"That guy is lame. He def should have called"
"guess if I felt kind of into the guy after the date, I'd appreciate a call. If I didn't give a shiz, I wouldn't care if it was email or not. In general I feel like a call shows much more respect. But I'm kind of a neo-ludite."
****
Personally, I said that while the truth is the best policy, I would prefer the "no chemistry" to "I'm into someone else" because it would be better for my self-esteem. I could get over the fact that he just doesn't get how awesome I am more than the insinuation that he thinks someone else is BETTER than me (unless, of course, I thought he was a total dud anyways).
I also think there is something really icky about bringing up the fact that you are dating other people. If we're in a date situation, I want all focus on me, and I don't need to hear about your other escapades. It leaves me feeling covered in slime. There's a reason you want to date her over me (if she actually exists) like I live too far away, I don't share your political views, my laugh irritates you. Say that instead. At least I'll feel like I have a concrete reason.
And I always think the phone is the most adult way to do things. It shows you really care, you're not being a fraidy cat, and you really want to be able to hear the person's response. An email can be such a cop-out in that regard, because it's totally one way.
In the end, I think everyone has a very individual response to being let down, and while there are certain things you can do to make a bad situation better, there is no perfect answer to making a difficult conversation easy. My male friend said he had the best of intentions with his "no more dates for us" email, and reasoned it was better than nothing at all. I think we can all agree that's true!
And there is a happy end. The cast-off woman actually answered the email (so I was told) and seems like they're going to be pals, and maybe go out for coffee sometime. As friends. Who knew things could turn out so rosy? It gives me hope for the future.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
We're all gonna 'splode!
So I just read this book, The Revenge of Gaia by James Lovelock. There was a pretty awesome article in Rolling Stone that piqued my interest and so I decided to read the whole thing.
Lovelock takes the stance of Bugs Bunny in this book. You know, when Bugs Bunny would finally lose Elmer Fudd at the end of the cartoon, and he would say, "So long screwy, see ya in St. Louis." Basically, when it comes to the environment, we're Screwy. And St. Louis is not such a good place to be. Much like Al Gore gave us a preview of a super heated planet a few years back in his anxiety inducing documentary, An Inconvenient Truth, Lovelock tells us about all the bad things we've done to bring about a climate crisis.
Only Lovelock's story does not have nearly as happy an ending as Gore's. According to Lovelock, it doesn't matter how much we recycle, ride our bikes, switch to solar power, or take canvas totes to the supermarket: it's just way too late. By 2040, our planet will have crazy severe weather to a degree we haven't yet experienced (tornadoes in Boston, Katrina style hurricanes are the norm), and by 2100, the Earth will be 90% uninhabitable, with areas like The North Pole being the only places still temperate enough to host human life. Or any life for that matter.
This idea - even if Lovelock is a total loony - scares the crap out of me. I mean really. And this guy has you know, degrees, and has devoted his life to science and climate study. I feel like his theory is probably based in some verifiable fact. Right?
So, if this is true, what does it mean. Personally, I have taken to saying quite often, "Why are you worried about this trivial bull? Didn't you know the world is going to end soon?" Of course, then I feel like Chicken Little, or Mel Gibson's character in Conspiracy Theory. You know, he was kind of right, but kind of paranoid schizophrenic?
Lovelock has some great ideas. Like immediately switching to nuclear power, and having us develop some kind of bio-engineered food and start planning to live in bio-domes. You know, when the apocalypse comes. In like 90 years.
The funny thing about these ideas being, the peace-nik types who are usually on the front lines of environmental issues, like members of the Sierra Club and Kyra Sedgewick, would never, ever, ever, not in a million years go for them. So, as in many instances in life, it appears that even though we desire the same outcomes, we have different agendas, and thus, we are at an impasse.
I personally am ready to start lobbying for nuclear power, mandatory black outs, demolishing of cars, and whatever else it takes. I mean COME ON! With the way modern medicine is leaning I could still be ALIVE in 90 years. I don't want to have to move to the Arctic Circle when I am 120 years young. With my children. And my grandchildren. And our pets. We probably won't all fit, and that would totally suck.
I don't really know what the solution to the problem might be. I know that this, like skunk overpopulation, the carbs vs. low-fat debate, or poor writing in the new 90210 series, is not a problem I can continue to ignore. I'm doing some research into this whole crazy nuclear energy business, installing the low wattage light bulbs, and shopping local. But I realize these things are mostly for me. I want to do something for you, too. That's why I'm telling you this. Because we're all in it together. And we've got to get past this impasse and make some progress. Or you, me, the kids and the pets, and Santa Claus will all be fighting for a square foot of space in the balmy New North Pole before this crazy party is over.
Lovelock takes the stance of Bugs Bunny in this book. You know, when Bugs Bunny would finally lose Elmer Fudd at the end of the cartoon, and he would say, "So long screwy, see ya in St. Louis." Basically, when it comes to the environment, we're Screwy. And St. Louis is not such a good place to be. Much like Al Gore gave us a preview of a super heated planet a few years back in his anxiety inducing documentary, An Inconvenient Truth, Lovelock tells us about all the bad things we've done to bring about a climate crisis.
Only Lovelock's story does not have nearly as happy an ending as Gore's. According to Lovelock, it doesn't matter how much we recycle, ride our bikes, switch to solar power, or take canvas totes to the supermarket: it's just way too late. By 2040, our planet will have crazy severe weather to a degree we haven't yet experienced (tornadoes in Boston, Katrina style hurricanes are the norm), and by 2100, the Earth will be 90% uninhabitable, with areas like The North Pole being the only places still temperate enough to host human life. Or any life for that matter.
This idea - even if Lovelock is a total loony - scares the crap out of me. I mean really. And this guy has you know, degrees, and has devoted his life to science and climate study. I feel like his theory is probably based in some verifiable fact. Right?
So, if this is true, what does it mean. Personally, I have taken to saying quite often, "Why are you worried about this trivial bull? Didn't you know the world is going to end soon?" Of course, then I feel like Chicken Little, or Mel Gibson's character in Conspiracy Theory. You know, he was kind of right, but kind of paranoid schizophrenic?
Lovelock has some great ideas. Like immediately switching to nuclear power, and having us develop some kind of bio-engineered food and start planning to live in bio-domes. You know, when the apocalypse comes. In like 90 years.
The funny thing about these ideas being, the peace-nik types who are usually on the front lines of environmental issues, like members of the Sierra Club and Kyra Sedgewick, would never, ever, ever, not in a million years go for them. So, as in many instances in life, it appears that even though we desire the same outcomes, we have different agendas, and thus, we are at an impasse.
I personally am ready to start lobbying for nuclear power, mandatory black outs, demolishing of cars, and whatever else it takes. I mean COME ON! With the way modern medicine is leaning I could still be ALIVE in 90 years. I don't want to have to move to the Arctic Circle when I am 120 years young. With my children. And my grandchildren. And our pets. We probably won't all fit, and that would totally suck.
I don't really know what the solution to the problem might be. I know that this, like skunk overpopulation, the carbs vs. low-fat debate, or poor writing in the new 90210 series, is not a problem I can continue to ignore. I'm doing some research into this whole crazy nuclear energy business, installing the low wattage light bulbs, and shopping local. But I realize these things are mostly for me. I want to do something for you, too. That's why I'm telling you this. Because we're all in it together. And we've got to get past this impasse and make some progress. Or you, me, the kids and the pets, and Santa Claus will all be fighting for a square foot of space in the balmy New North Pole before this crazy party is over.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Marriage is like running a small, boring non-profit
This morning, MSFAM sent me the below article:
Marry Him! by Lori Gottlieb.
Incredibly long but funny and interesting treatise on how single women should settle instead of holding out for Mr. Right. When I laughed out loud twice, my co-workers insisted I forward them whatever what helping me to procrastinate.
I guess being a 30-something single, this kind of stuff really gets my dander up. I don't need someone to tell me to settle. And I really don't need anyone to tell me I'm being picky...we've already talked about the men I've dated. I don't think I'm that picky. And personally, I think my mother or best friends would have murdered me due to pity had I settled for one of the self-absorbed, criminally insane, drug addled Mama's boys of days past.
I can't say I don't believe in settling. For the better part of a year my new dating philosophy resembles the author's "marriage is a boring non-profit" stance. Like, I'm not looking for passion. I'm looking for someone who, despite his treacherous mother and inability to put dirty clothes in a hamper, would still be worth hugging and cooking dinner for. Someone that I could be pissed at but still be pleased to be spending my life with. That sounds like settling to me. I just try not to think of it as settling.
The author makes a lovely point, though, and one I've thought about alot. "The man of your dreams doesn't exist. Precisely because you dreamed him up." By this logic every married woman has settled. Right?
I think I have a pretty "settling minded" brain when it comes to marriage. I remember a married friend telling me a story about how her husband is so good because he cleans the floor. She then went on to verbally lambaste him for not doing alot of other stuff to help with their house and baby, to which I replied, "Dude, you love him AND HE CLEANS THE FLOOR!"
Compared to some other husband stories I've heard, that seemed pretty awesome to me. Plus, no one cleans my floor but me. I'd let any stupid, ugly guy hang out at my house at least for a few days if he promised to clean the floor. Never mind love, honor and obey.
The thing that really bothered me about this article though was that it seemed so black and white in terms of age and the need to settle. Like Ms. Gottlieb really believed she would have had better chances finding a less horrible guy in her younger years that she does now as a 30-something single mom. She describes the older men who her older single friends took up with, as:
"a recovering alcoholic who doesn’t always go to his meetings; a trying-to-make-it-in-his-40s actor; a widower who has three nightmarish kids and who’s still actively grieving for his dead wife; and a socially awkward engineer (so socially awkward that he declined to attend his wife’s book party)."
To which I respond: these men were young and single once, and on the market. Someone even married that one with the nightmarish kids...and then she divorced him. Marriage and settling isn't a permanent state of coma/limbo/eternal predictability. You can get married or settle or whatever you want to call it at any age. The reality is the person you settle for is a HUMAN BEING. They grow, change, make mistakes, do stupid things, and will, inevitably, disappoint you. The young ones eventually turn into the old ones. With the problems described above. And us being adults, we should be able to accept that that's part of the deal.
What Liz seems to fail to see is that the story doesn't stop after marriage. It's not a fairy tale. Lots of things happen during "and they live happily ever after." Like adjustable rate mortgages and crushes on people who aren't your spouse and nasty in-laws and kids with colds, and disagreements on where to take the family vacation. And all those things, along with the good things, made it into the qualifier "happy." Happy is a state of mind.
But the whole article just seemed so fixated on marriage as some kind of end goal over which there is so much competition with her married friends. Relax, Liz Gottlieb. You seem like a complainer anyways. If you got married you'd just complain about that, too.
Marry Him! by Lori Gottlieb.
Incredibly long but funny and interesting treatise on how single women should settle instead of holding out for Mr. Right. When I laughed out loud twice, my co-workers insisted I forward them whatever what helping me to procrastinate.
I guess being a 30-something single, this kind of stuff really gets my dander up. I don't need someone to tell me to settle. And I really don't need anyone to tell me I'm being picky...we've already talked about the men I've dated. I don't think I'm that picky. And personally, I think my mother or best friends would have murdered me due to pity had I settled for one of the self-absorbed, criminally insane, drug addled Mama's boys of days past.
I can't say I don't believe in settling. For the better part of a year my new dating philosophy resembles the author's "marriage is a boring non-profit" stance. Like, I'm not looking for passion. I'm looking for someone who, despite his treacherous mother and inability to put dirty clothes in a hamper, would still be worth hugging and cooking dinner for. Someone that I could be pissed at but still be pleased to be spending my life with. That sounds like settling to me. I just try not to think of it as settling.
The author makes a lovely point, though, and one I've thought about alot. "The man of your dreams doesn't exist. Precisely because you dreamed him up." By this logic every married woman has settled. Right?
I think I have a pretty "settling minded" brain when it comes to marriage. I remember a married friend telling me a story about how her husband is so good because he cleans the floor. She then went on to verbally lambaste him for not doing alot of other stuff to help with their house and baby, to which I replied, "Dude, you love him AND HE CLEANS THE FLOOR!"
Compared to some other husband stories I've heard, that seemed pretty awesome to me. Plus, no one cleans my floor but me. I'd let any stupid, ugly guy hang out at my house at least for a few days if he promised to clean the floor. Never mind love, honor and obey.
The thing that really bothered me about this article though was that it seemed so black and white in terms of age and the need to settle. Like Ms. Gottlieb really believed she would have had better chances finding a less horrible guy in her younger years that she does now as a 30-something single mom. She describes the older men who her older single friends took up with, as:
"a recovering alcoholic who doesn’t always go to his meetings; a trying-to-make-it-in-his-40s actor; a widower who has three nightmarish kids and who’s still actively grieving for his dead wife; and a socially awkward engineer (so socially awkward that he declined to attend his wife’s book party)."
To which I respond: these men were young and single once, and on the market. Someone even married that one with the nightmarish kids...and then she divorced him. Marriage and settling isn't a permanent state of coma/limbo/eternal predictability. You can get married or settle or whatever you want to call it at any age. The reality is the person you settle for is a HUMAN BEING. They grow, change, make mistakes, do stupid things, and will, inevitably, disappoint you. The young ones eventually turn into the old ones. With the problems described above. And us being adults, we should be able to accept that that's part of the deal.
What Liz seems to fail to see is that the story doesn't stop after marriage. It's not a fairy tale. Lots of things happen during "and they live happily ever after." Like adjustable rate mortgages and crushes on people who aren't your spouse and nasty in-laws and kids with colds, and disagreements on where to take the family vacation. And all those things, along with the good things, made it into the qualifier "happy." Happy is a state of mind.
But the whole article just seemed so fixated on marriage as some kind of end goal over which there is so much competition with her married friends. Relax, Liz Gottlieb. You seem like a complainer anyways. If you got married you'd just complain about that, too.
Friday, June 27, 2008
Puzzle pieces
Fitting in has always been a major preoccupation of mine.
When I was a kid, I was never sure if I fit in. As a teenager, I distinctly remember not wanting to fit in, and doing everything in my immediate power to stand out as much as possible.
As I got older, I wanted to fit into a certain size dress which was an increasingly impossible task. And then in my late 20's, I wanted desperately to fit with a guy and the desperation led me to desperate attractions to all the wrong men.
Lately though I have realized that as a puzzle piece, there must be some magnetic property that leads you exactly to where you need to be, if you just let it.
I have this amazing group of friends that I have known forever. We don't need to talk every day, but when we do...it just fits.
I have another sister from another mister. We met through such a convoluted set of circumstances, but I know we were meant to be besties because no one's sense of humor makes sense with mine quite as much as hers does.
And sometimes I think I am lucky enough to find myself in a crowded room full of strangers and magically, the one character that my character can get along with manifests itself, and I have an amazing time.
And sometimes I can get past myself enough to forget the room is full of strangers and immediately every face is friendly, every glance is welcome, and every hand is open.
I have become determined to be myself, and in so doing, have learned that fitting in should never be a struggle. I was made to fit into this world just as I am, and I am delighted to know that no one could fit into my place quite like I can.
When I was a kid, I was never sure if I fit in. As a teenager, I distinctly remember not wanting to fit in, and doing everything in my immediate power to stand out as much as possible.
As I got older, I wanted to fit into a certain size dress which was an increasingly impossible task. And then in my late 20's, I wanted desperately to fit with a guy and the desperation led me to desperate attractions to all the wrong men.
Lately though I have realized that as a puzzle piece, there must be some magnetic property that leads you exactly to where you need to be, if you just let it.
I have this amazing group of friends that I have known forever. We don't need to talk every day, but when we do...it just fits.
I have another sister from another mister. We met through such a convoluted set of circumstances, but I know we were meant to be besties because no one's sense of humor makes sense with mine quite as much as hers does.
And sometimes I think I am lucky enough to find myself in a crowded room full of strangers and magically, the one character that my character can get along with manifests itself, and I have an amazing time.
And sometimes I can get past myself enough to forget the room is full of strangers and immediately every face is friendly, every glance is welcome, and every hand is open.
I have become determined to be myself, and in so doing, have learned that fitting in should never be a struggle. I was made to fit into this world just as I am, and I am delighted to know that no one could fit into my place quite like I can.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Breaking up in any language...
So you know how in cheesy sitcoms all the boys seem to think it's awesome to date the foreign exchange student who's really hot but doesn't happen to speak any English?
Well, I got to fulfill the fantasy, briefly, with a young, beautiful dude from Brazil. He was amazingly sweet despite the fact that communicating with him was nearly impossible. I met him at a dance club, and it took me about 30 minutes before I realized he wasn't super drunk - he just wasn't speaking English. Literally.
Anyways, it came to a point where I couldn't handle being in the absence of adult conversation and decided I would tell him, with the help of Babel Fish, that I couldn't see him anymore because we didn't understand each other, and that was just no good.
I thought a really cut and dry translation would work well, and that would be the end of that.
But even though the words were a little off, and the accent a little jumbled, it doesn't matter, really, what words you use to tell someone goodbye. Guilt, rejection, sadness...they translated better than anything either of us every tried to say to one another. I regret making someone so sad. He probably has so many questions he can't figure out how to ask. And I have better explanations I don't know how to give. But all I know is he was incredibly upset, and I felt like a jerk, and it didn't matter if I was polite and tried my best to say it right. I don't think I needed to say anything at all.
It just sucks.
Well, I got to fulfill the fantasy, briefly, with a young, beautiful dude from Brazil. He was amazingly sweet despite the fact that communicating with him was nearly impossible. I met him at a dance club, and it took me about 30 minutes before I realized he wasn't super drunk - he just wasn't speaking English. Literally.
Anyways, it came to a point where I couldn't handle being in the absence of adult conversation and decided I would tell him, with the help of Babel Fish, that I couldn't see him anymore because we didn't understand each other, and that was just no good.
I thought a really cut and dry translation would work well, and that would be the end of that.
But even though the words were a little off, and the accent a little jumbled, it doesn't matter, really, what words you use to tell someone goodbye. Guilt, rejection, sadness...they translated better than anything either of us every tried to say to one another. I regret making someone so sad. He probably has so many questions he can't figure out how to ask. And I have better explanations I don't know how to give. But all I know is he was incredibly upset, and I felt like a jerk, and it didn't matter if I was polite and tried my best to say it right. I don't think I needed to say anything at all.
It just sucks.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Mood stabilizers for Denise Richards
Denise Richards used the C word on her new show. I don't know about you, but I kind of feel like if you want to "clear the air" by showing the world you are really a nice person, who is good to her friends and not a husband stealer, the least you can do is not use the C-word on TV, and maybe come up with a better defense than "how does someone steal someone else's husband really?"
Not buyin' it, Denise. Not buyin' it.
Not buyin' it, Denise. Not buyin' it.
Friday, April 11, 2008
PowerPoint - scourge of the Devil
So yesterday I went to a day long showcase where eight groups gave 10 minute PowerPoint presentations on their programs. They were lovely people, and their programs were also lovely. I would be so bold as to say their programs were inspiring.
What was sad was that even at 10 minutes, their presentations seemed so long I felt like I had aged 10 years by the time I got out of that auditorium.
I think it's such a sad thing when you work so hard to promote a program you feel so strongly about, and when other people see it in action, they absolutely love it, and then you do a professional type presentation on it and ...zzzzzzzz. Suddenly the coolest thing in the world just became excruciatingly boring.
Max Atkinson, author of Lend Me Your Ears did some creative calculating on how much PowerPoint is costing the British Economy. Taking the exchange rate, population, and pay scale into consideration, here's how his math applies to the US:
If there are 44,501,000 folks with college degrees earning an average of $50,000 a year in the US, and each one of those folks sits through one hour of PowerPoint presentations once a week, and 90% of those are totally boring, and no one gets a thing out of them, then the US is wasting over $49.9 billion dollars a year on boring PowerPoints. And that's not counting the time people spend researching, preparing the slides, and practicing their presentations.
No wonder we're in a recession.
What was sad was that even at 10 minutes, their presentations seemed so long I felt like I had aged 10 years by the time I got out of that auditorium.
I think it's such a sad thing when you work so hard to promote a program you feel so strongly about, and when other people see it in action, they absolutely love it, and then you do a professional type presentation on it and ...zzzzzzzz. Suddenly the coolest thing in the world just became excruciatingly boring.
Max Atkinson, author of Lend Me Your Ears did some creative calculating on how much PowerPoint is costing the British Economy. Taking the exchange rate, population, and pay scale into consideration, here's how his math applies to the US:
If there are 44,501,000 folks with college degrees earning an average of $50,000 a year in the US, and each one of those folks sits through one hour of PowerPoint presentations once a week, and 90% of those are totally boring, and no one gets a thing out of them, then the US is wasting over $49.9 billion dollars a year on boring PowerPoints. And that's not counting the time people spend researching, preparing the slides, and practicing their presentations.
No wonder we're in a recession.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)