Is it too much to ask for a Seaplane?

On June 3, 2014 By KathleenIn Dating2 Comments

Memorial Day weekend has come and gone, and it’s unofficially officially summer in the city. The Summer House crew has begun their weekend exoduses to the Hamptons (read: I can now find street parking on Saturday morning.) The radio is playing Rockaway Beach ad nauseum (read: time to make a new driving playlist). And home goods stores are overstocked with patriotic trimmings and patio furniture just in time for BBQ season (read: I just put in an order for a new copper-top Weber on homedepot.com.)

Yes, sandals can return to rotation and we can all finally start to check things off our Summer 2014 bucket list. It’s time to schedule picnics with the girls, fishing trips with your favorite couple, hikes with your dudes, or late night rooftop fetes with the gang.

It is also, arguably, time for summer flings.

“How do you feel about your first summer in a while as single girl,” my mother asked as we soaked our feet in the adjacent pedicure stations.

“Excited.”

I hadn’t realized it till she mentioned it, but my last three summers had been taken over by new relationships. It seems my personal Cupid missed Valentine’s Day and struck on Memorial Day. I was an annual victim of summer love. And so, it was in with white pants and the whirlwind romance, out with the grand plans for a girls-only trip to that nude beach or the impromptu Finger Lakes weekend wine tour or the sick day Montauk adventure.

We might be in the age of hanging out, but real relationships don’t develop while our friends are watching. I dated men who wanted real relationships. So while I had me a blast (and then some) with my summer lovin’s, I also cut short the year’s longer, carefree days built for reunions and flings.

Being single in the summer means I can see someone different every weekend. Being single in the summer means freedom… for everything.

“I’ve been invited to lunch by a man who co-founded one of the internet’s most-used sites for booking hotel rooms,” I relayed, receiving a look of doubt in return.

“Don’t worry. It’s not going to be anything serious… unless he has a seaplane,” I assured her. “If he has a seaplane, I’ll consider making him a regular on the social rotation. I want to go to Montauk this summer, and I don’t feel like taking the Jitney.”

For a seaplane, I'll consider giving up my singleton status this summer. — For a seaplane, I’ll consider giving up my singleton status this summer.

When Women Let Me Down

On May 27, 2014May 28, 2014 By KathleenIn DatingLeave a comment

Nothing disappoints me more than a smart woman who allows herself to be manipulated by a mediocre man.

Hanna left New York City half a decade ago to start a new life in a foreign city far, far away. She was on a mission — to leave behind the man that was her bad habit, who broke her heart over and over again, and to start afresh, meanwhile reconnecting with her heritage. We all agreed it was the best thing for her, and when she told me she was ready to return to the city that had forged our friendship, I was keen to meet a changed woman.

“I haven’t been gone a week and I’m already pining for my life there. My friends, my boss, my old job, and this fellow.”

She was baiting me, and I knew it. Last we chatted she was long out of a relationship and not looking for anything new. There was no reason to be pining for a fellow…

But as a friend, I knew my duty and took the bait: “Fellow?”

She proceeded to give a brief overview — on the eve of her departure, she finally got together with that guy friend nothing had ever happened with. Since then, they’ve been talking every day. When I asked her why he waited until she was leaving to make his move, she said things were complicated.

“That’s a bunch of bullshit,” I said, in typical 4th wave feminist fashion. “Things were only complicated if he’s married.”

“He’s married.”

That didn’t surprise me. Hanna had a predilection for men who were emotionally unavailable and this wasn’t the first time she had chosen one with a wedding ring.

“Then he’s a slug. And not because he cheated on his wife with you. Because he doesn’t give a shit about you.”

“That’s a pretty harsh stance to take off the bat.”

When she swung into his defense, I began to doubt her top-tier credentials. Didn’t she know she was being used? For an Ivy League lawyer, reason and ethics clearly weren’t her fortes.

The thing is, not long ago, I had been Hanna — a parting of ways and a final night option of a one night stand with someone I cared about. We didn’t know when we’d see each other again, and even if we did, we’d never live in the same city again. Buried feelings were exchanged, but instead of taking up the offer to spend the night, I left.

The minute I got into the cab, I regretted leaving. But by the time I paid my fare and walked up to my apartment, I was angry. After all these years, why did it have to take leaving to tell me how he felt? Because, I realized, he didn’t actually want to be in a relationship with me. I knew that no matter what was said or what was done, I wasn’t moving for him and he wasn’t staying. End of story.

We all make silly decisions when we get caught up in love or lust, or more often, when we find ourselves in need of some sort of validation. For me, leaving was the best thing I could have done for my head and our friendship. Nothing affirms our relationship more than our once a year drink when he flies through town and our Thanksgiving phone call.

“I think you should call him to say you decided to move back so you can be together,” I finally suggested. “Let’s see how he reacts to that. And then let’s see if he’s still worth pining over.”

She called me traditional and cited my relative youth, implying I was naive. It looked like the jury had ruled and my closing argument went unnoticed.

Who am I to judge, anyway.

Some Truths About Online Dating

On May 21, 2014 By KathleenIn Dating, Love, relationshipsLeave a comment

Every guy with an online dating profile thinks he’s this guy.

The men with the best profiles are 5’8 or shorter.

It’s not okay to give that guy you lived with in college or the guy you kinda had a crush on in high school 4 stars or to “like” him. Just pretend you never saw him. You’re not doing yourself any favours. If you want to see him, send him an email.

Every guy is a laid back kind of guy who likes to cook and travel and wants a true partner in crime.

If he says he’s 5’9, he’s really 5’7. If he says he’s 6’2, he’s really 6’4.

The last time anyone read “The Great Gatsby” was when they were 14. It is also everyone’s favorite book. Listing it as a favorite is a waste of characters.

Every guy has been either Indiana Jones or Maverick at least once for (and possibly every) Halloween.

Your match percentage is entirely based on sex-play preferences and religious views. You are as likely to be incompatible socially with someone who is a 90% match as someone who is a 90% enemy.

Online dating and bar pick-ups -- equal probability of meeting a serial killer. — Online dating and bar pick-ups — equal probability of meeting a serial killer.

No one is really comfortable with being on a dating site. A ridiculous truth because no one should be comfortable meeting drunk strangers at a bar. Your odds of meeting a serial killer or an organ harvester at either venue is entirely equal.

It’s a bad idea to lead with a selfie.

Speaking of profile photos… The ideal photo selection includes: one full body, one smiling, one of you doing an activity you really enjoy. Limit yourself. No one needs to see your instagram feed.

Brevity is the source of wit. Long-winded folks that feel the need to list every book they’ve ever read, or every movie they really, really love have more than a few reasons why they’re single.

There are some great people out there and online. If online dating hasn’t worked out yet, that’s okay. It may not. But if you’re not having fun while you’re doing it, then you’ve only got you to blame.

Boyfriend Jeans

On April 30, 2014 By KathleenIn Bio Pics, Dating, fashion1 Comment

What girl doesn't want to be as cool as Annie Hall? — What girl doesn’t want to be as cool as Annie Hall?

We all make bad decisions when it’s 1am and the lights are off… sometimes it’s putting on the wrong pair of jeans.

I’ve always been a fan of the Diane Keaton/Annie Hall androgyny look. Ties, blazers, tuxedos, wingtips — they may be built for boys, but sometimes us girls wear them better. Especially, when we remember to keep our feminine touch.

But as much as we girls love borrowing styles from our men, men love it when we make their clothes our own. As soon as the sleepovers began, my exes were all keen to designate one of their t-shirts as “Kitty’s shirt.”

The t-shirts are almost always gray and almost always too long and almost always washed in some over-scented detergent. One former flame also offered up a pair of what he called geisha pants, a gift his mother brought him from Japan. He was 6’4 but she had clearly forgotten that. On me, they were stylish lounge pants. On him, shorts. He kept the shirt and the pants on a “my-sized” “shelf” — the closet floor, on top of his extra towels.

I do not look as cool as Victoria Beckham when I wear boyfriend jeans.

While I’m always grateful for “Kitty’s” shirt because it means I can pack light, one thing I’ve never been comfortable borrowing from my boyfriend are his jeans.

To begin with, “boyfriend” cut jeans look ridiculous on me. I always envy those tall, slim women who can wear oversized denim and shapeless shirts in a way that looks effortlessly cool. Those same styles on my shorter, curvier (yet flat-chested) frame look like a hot mess.

Also, unless my boyfriend is an NFL linebacker with legs the size of sycamores, there is no guy who wears jeans I can borrow and look like I’m wearing “boyfriend” jeans.

See exhibit A:

Not only did an ex and I like the same inexpensive but well-cut classic line of Gap 1969s, we liked the same style and same wash: always skinny and dark indigo. His long, lean legs were an alluring part of his frame, even if both of his thighs together equaled the mass of one of mine. To put it mildly, his “always skinny” and my “always skinny” were not the same “always skinny.”

And this is why I don't borrow his jeans... Epic Fail. — And this is why I don’t borrow his jeans… Epic Fail.

But at 1am, when it’s dark and you’re a drink or two in trying to get re-ready to go head back out, one pair of indigo washed 1969 jeans looks like any other pair of indigo washed 1969 jeans.

“I think these are yours,” he said tapping me on my shoulder.

I turned to look, my eyes wide in horror. My feminized skinny jeans were practically falling off him — there was enough room to fit three more of him inside the waist band. Meanwhile, I could barely squeeze my ankle into the opening of the pair I’d retrieved from the living room.

“They look better on you,” I said, trying to pretend I wasn’t embarrassed.

“Doubtful, but you know I always preferred them off you anyway.”

I gave him credit for a good save and made him swear to never talk about this again. I’m pretty sure the next time I stayed over I purposely wore a skirt. #confusionadverted

As long as he wears his, and I wear mine, they really are born to git.

Upgrade Available. Click to Start

On April 25, 2014 By KathleenIn Bio Pics, Breakups, DatingLeave a comment

Men should not only go to, but should be like gyms.

“Men should be like gyms,” a Park Avenue Power Lawyer, breast-cancer survivor and mother of 2 grown children advised me. “Conveniently located.”

This is a rather good criteria, and it’s true that of late, real estate has been a deciding factor in romantic endeavors. When I discovered the guy I started dating last summer had an apartment on the upper east side, a stone’s throw from the Met, a block from my favorite Italian market, across the street from my doctor, and directly above a restaurant with the best gnocchi on the planet, I was sold.

Mr. UES had a small handful of things going for him, but the location of his apartment — the fact it wasn’t in Brooklyn and came with the opportunity for a proper pied a tere in my most frequented neighborhood — persuaded me to ignore the inclining that this was a poor match and thus helped lock him in as my one and only.

It was sinkholes like this on the road to my ex's apartment that killed my beloved car — It was sinkholes like this on the road to my ex’s apartment that killed my beloved car

As our relationship progressed into the winter, I made it a habit to bypass public transportation in favor of driving to his apartment. For the last 10 years, I’d been driving my first car. It was a compact SUV, invaluable in schlepping artwork around the Hudson Valley and I’m convinced it could drive my favorite routes through Manhattan by itself. I knew its time was limited, but it was a car built to last… and it would have, if it wasn’t for my ex-boyfriend, the Major Deegan and global warming.

If you were living anywhere in North America this winter, you’re well aware of the havoc the cold and snow inflicted on the roadways. The drive to his apartment was riddled with sinkholes, most of which were hidden by poor street lighting and other vehicles. The drive to Mr. UES’s apartment on snowy winter evenings bent the underbelly of my beloved FreeLander in half.

And then, in the coldest heart of winter, we broke up.

Not only did he refuse to buy me earrings for Christmas and never took a duster to his furniture, he broke my car.

With my 4-wheel companion for the last decade deemed irreparable, I started shopping for a replacement. It was time for an upgrade.

It was the day I settled on a Ranger Rover Evoque that I met the foreign athlete turned PhD engineer and agreed to dinner. A new car. A new boyfriend. It felt like upgrades all around. Needless to say, I got over the broken car and the broken heart in the time it took to sign the paperwork.

machine fail — Transportation Upgrade Fail

Not. So. Fast.

2 weeks into my new car, and it was being towed out of the supermarket parking lot on a flatbed. A part was faulty. I couldn’t get it out of park. 2 weeks into life with a loaner car, and 4 weeks into our romance, Le Monsieur showed his true colours.

I was paying for a car I didn’t have and I had already ended two relationships before the end of the new year’s first quarter.

It seemed my upgrade came with a virus.

But luckily, viruses usually can be treated. Just in time for my 3rd month’s car payment, the dealer called to tell me the new part had arrived from the UK and was replaced. I could come pick-up the car whenever I was ready.

So now, a few months later than I planned, I have my new, twice upgraded car. It’s a silver Ranger Rover Evoque with black leather interior. It has a push start and heated steering wheel. The panorama roof comes standard. The soundtrack heavily featuring songs like “Diva” and “Bad Girls,” and “Fancy” is driver-supplied.

If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll take you for a ride sometime…

Upgrade complete.

Panorama sunroof: check. Bad ass playlist: check. Feeling pretty cool behind the wheel of my new car: check.

There is no Them, Only Us

On March 16, 2014 By KathleenIn Dating3 Comments

The first thing I do when I walk into his apartment is take off my watch. Usually, I lay it on a coffee table, next to my phone, which is on silent. Sometimes, I put it in that mystery pocket in my purse so I don’t forget it like I did that one Saturday. I like my watch. It’s a classic silver and gold Raymond Weil that was a 21^st birthday present. I take it off as a courtesy – I’m letting him know I’m not in a hurry to leave (and I wouldn’t want the clasp to get stuck on his belt buckle, if things go that way.) What happens next is still to be determined, but whatever it is, it starts with a refusal to acknowledge time.

Between now and when I put my watch back on, there are not minutes or hours.

There’s just us.

Time melts away when two people decide to melt together. Thanks, for this Dali.

The world stops for two people in love, or lust, depending on how you want to look at it. A romantic concept, no? Did you know I was that much of an idealist? Clearly, you weren’t there when I cried during that scene in that movie…

“You’ve been going non-stop,” a boyfriend said to me as I plunked down on his couch. “Tonight, you’re here. I want you to pretend you’re on vacation. We’re going to do whatever makes you feel like we’re somewhere else.”

It was probably the last romantic gesture he made before becoming an ex-boyfriend, and it was probably one of the most meaningful. Part of what we look for in a significant other is someone who will share life’s challenges with us, but also someone who will help us escape from them. When the going gets tough, he helps soften the blow. It’s not simply that we need someone to vent to. It’s that we need someone to distract us, to remind us everything is really very good, or that it’s about to be very good.

Tomorrow, I need to take my watch to Torneau for a new battery. The date has fallen behind by two weeks and the second hand only moves in increments of 7 seconds now. If I wait any longer it’ll stop all together. If I were a student on assignment, I’d probably try to make a metaphor here — say something like, maybe my watch is trying to tell me something about this new guy. I only just got the battery replaced, after all. Be thankful I’m not a student on assignment.

They Told Me to Find a Rich Husband

Category: Dating