Category: Love

Every William Needs a Kate, So Yes, I’m Waking up at 4AM on Friday to Watch the Royal Wedding

On By KathleenIn Dating, LoveLeave a comment
In case you haven't noticed, there's only one story in the news these days -- the British Family's Royal Wedding

In case you haven’t noticed, the presses have all stopped. Rising gas prices, NCAA Title IX infringements, and pending government shut-downs are no longer news. There is but one story to cover in the broad sheets and on the television: the Royal Wedding of Prince William to Catherine Middleton.

I can’t say that I’ve been following the pre-wedding press — I’m content to wait till the big day to see the dress. But as a girl who religiously reads the New York Times wedding announcements because she’d rather pass her Sunday morning indulging in happy people than tearing-up over explosions and tsunamis, it’s no surprise I’m somewhat thrilled that a wedding has become the focal point of World News Tonight.

Friday is a workday and the prospect of waking long, long before sunrise to watch the wedding ceremony live on television, when I could easily watch it repeated later, is not at all sensible. Nevertheless, I’ve decided to set my alarm for 4:00AM so I can watch the royal wedding unfold in real time. Why? Because, as my mother pointed out, it’s not every summer a future king gets married. It’s as much a historical event as it is an opulent party. 1 billion apparently tuned in to watch Prince Charles marry Diana. That many people don’t join together to watch something unless they feel there’s something important going on — not even the Olympics, the sporting event meant to unite the world in competition gets that kind of viewership.

Everyone is getting geared up for the Royal Wedding, in whatever way they know how

Weddings never fail to captivate. Between April and July, the air rings with the joy of nuptials. Besides the magazine stands buckling under the weight of 700-page wedding-themed publications (thank you Modern Bride and Martha Stewart Weddings), movie theaters are stocked with films telling terrible tales of bridezillas or “always the bride’s maid” woes.  Every so often, we’re lucky to have a real wedding worth tracking (last year, it was Chelsea Clinton and Marc Mezvinsky).

And if ever there was a love story worth tracking, it’s the one between the future King of England and his Princess. Every William needs a Catherine, and at 4AM on Friday morning, with my scones, clotted cream, poached egg and breakfast tea, I’ll be rooting for their happily ever after.

The Useless Things We Do for Love…or Lust

On By KathleenIn Bio Pics, Dating, Love, relationshipsLeave a comment

It was a long morning of meetings and by mid-afternoon, I was in need of a pick-me-up. I ran out of the office building and trekked half a mile to a teashop that steeps me in exquisite, antioxidant-rich, caffeinated refreshment.

“I’ll take a samurai chai mate, very slightly sweetened with German rock crystal sugar, please,” I said to the burly, blond-haired, sweet-faced guy behind the counter. With his bulk — he was somewhere between a body-builder and a swimmer — he embodied the proverbial elephant in the China shop.

Buying $40 worth of tea and bending over backwards are the least inconvienient things I'd done to get closer to a boy

We chatted while he rummaged through the canisters of tea leaves, carefully pulling together my requested blend. He was cute (think a blond Josh Hartnett), and we shared mutual tastes for morning cups of hearty black teas and afternoons helped by crisp green teas. We were both envisioning our future shared kitchen cabinet chock-full o’ tea. As he measured and poured my cup, he insisted that he teach me about matcha — he was about to have a cup and wanted to share it with me.

15 minutes later I was walking back to work with my mate chai in one hand and $40 worth of green tea in my purse. If only this was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done for a boy…

Joining the jazz band in middle school, joining the film club in high school, adding a Philosophy major to my Economics major in college, learning to ride a bike, traveling to Brooklyn, eating a steak when I’m a vegetarian — there are few inconvenient things I haven’t done while attempting to get closer to a good-looking fella. These things have frequently resulted in personal injury (bike crashes) and always cost me time (Thursday afternoons for film “discussions”) and money (a new amp for my electric violin) but rarely achieved their goal — get the guy.

I became a joint major in Economics and Philosophy to win over Jacob. The West Coast-raised upper-classman and I loved talking about biking/hiking trails and Plato to such a degree that our French professor proclaimed we went together “like peanut butter and chocolate.” Alas, Jacob was allergic to peanuts… and eventually, to me.

I don’t know if my tea purchase will result in a date or go the route of Jacob and my Econ-Philo major.  In the very least, my matcha consumption will increase my metabolism and reduce my risk of cancer. It seems that for once, an act made in the name of lust might finally prove fruitful.

Unlike my attempt at learning to ride a bike, buying green tea to impress a boy will prove good for my health

Unexpected Ironies of Online Dating

On By KathleenIn Dating, Love, Mr. Right, relationships3 Comments

Sure there are some risks (you never know if he’s an axe murder), sure there are some stigmas (don’t only desperate people go on match.com?), but I confess, there are many things I find appealing about online dating.

In hiding behind our usernames, online dating grants us a certain amount of anonymity... or so I thought

I can curate my photos, highlight my humor, hide my flaws, and change my story to target my preferred flavor du jour: sugar daddy or kindred spirit, caretaker or one night stand, lover or soulmate. Besides the fact that I get  to handpick potential matches from an already narrowed pool of viable candidates, I broaden my search beyond my favorite haunts, my best friends, and my friends’ friends, all while keeping a certain degree of anonymity. After all, online daters hide behind usernames that in most cases, rarely reference any part of our real names.

I quickly learned, so much for anonymity… and so much for widening my dating horizons.

My profile had only been up for a few hours when an IM popped up in the corner of my screen: “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

It was an old friend who once , but who I had since lost touch with. We both agreed the 92% Match prediction was ridiculous — remember that one time we sorta went on a date? — and bid each other good luck. A week later, he was “in a relationship” with a girl he’d met on the site. I thought this boded well for my future in online dating. If he could find someone, surely, I could.

And then my stand partner in All-County orchestra, 3 guys I went to high school with, a former college floormate, a former college teammate, my best friend’s ex-boyfriend, and best of all, a former college TA had all appeared as high-rated matches and subsequently, all either checked in on my profile or messaged me.

In some cases, we recognized each other and lived to laugh about it, but then there’s my poor TA. We had been through more than a class together and one-on-one discussion sessions over coffee were probably more frequent than they should have been. It had been 2 years since I’d last seen him — we’d both had haircuts — and he didn’t realize it was me when he sent his “hey there.” When I replied with an “is this [insert name] here? How’s the dissertation going?” I could see him blush across the wi-fi.

I recently had my first internet-matched date with someone I’ve never previously met (a rare find, it seems, for me). On the screen, he read and looked good, though he used far too many exclamation points for a 30-something male. I had no proof he wasn’t an axe-murder besides his claim to be Canadian, but I was willing to take my chances. I survived, I’m still here and he wants a second date. Great! Now, if only I knew his real name.

So, What’s Your Type

On By KathleenIn Dating, Love, Mr. Right1 Comment
For as long as I can remember, people have always had strong opinions about what type of guy is my Mr. Right.

The summer I graduated from high school, my South African godfather came to visit. At the same time, a boy I knew from out of town was staying in our guest room. It was a house full of foreigners.

“He’s a nice young fellow,” Hilton said of my 17-year old guest, “but he’s far too young for you. You need to be seeing someone who is at least 21, maybe even 22.”

I assured him that the young fellow sleeping in the room next to mine was in no way a romantic interest. I was flattered that my worldly godfather should think I deserved a boyfriend who wasn’t a boy, but a grown-up man. It felt good to be a teenager who seemed mature beyond her years.

Dan decided I need a "No Reservations" style Aaron Eckhart to my Catherine Zeta Jones

My godfather was typical of those in my life — everyone I met had ardent beliefs about what type man was my match. They may not have all agreed on age difference, profession, and nationality, but all were quick to offer an opinion.

My roommate in college decided the only person I could have children with was Charley. “You’re sporty and strict. He’s awkward and friendly. You’d be the disciplinarian. He’d be the one that takes them for ice cream. Together, you’d read them The Odyssey at bedtime.”

I didn’t necessarily mind her pick, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about her assessment of my potential parenting persona. I do like ice cream, after all.

“You can’t marry a guy who makes you cook for him,” Dan said as he watched me drop homemade butternut squash ravioli into a pot of boiling water. “He has to be someone who will cook with you.”

I’d gotten so accustomed to people telling me who I should be looking for that I never designed my own version of  Mr. Right. Then one day, I was blindsided by a question no one had ever asked…

Could I say Gerard Butler is my "type?" Or is Gerard Butler just a look?

“So, what’s the deal — what type of guy are you looking for?”

I was at a loss. Smart, funny, athletic, and good-looking is non-specific– it’s the standard-issue type for the indecisive. When I thought about it, every guy I ever knew or dated was, in some form or another, smart, funny, athletic, and good-looking.

I racked my brain. Could I name an actor? Would Gerard Butler suffice, or is Gerard Butler a look (and an apartment)? Someone interesting enough that our wedding will win the “Vows” column in the Sunday Times? Likewise, non-specific.

Finally, it hit me:

“I want a guy who makes me smile the way my puppy does. He should be the kind of guy who would propose while we’re hiking up a mountain but want to hold the reception in the atrium at MoMA.”

“I don’t know anyone like that,” the person replied. “But I can set you up with a guy who has season tickets at Yankee stadium.”

I shrugged and wondered why he bothered asking. It looked like for now, a man with Yankees season tickets was just my type.

Rewriting “Life’s Little Instruction Book” from the Cusp of a Quarter Life Crisis

On By KathleenIn Career, Dating, insights/observations, Love in BriefLeave a comment
In the 8th grade, "Life's Little Instruction Book" was required reading. our teachers felt learning secularized parables would be more beneficial for our intellectual growth

Rather than learn the art of well-crafted sentences through a standard curriculum of books like The Jungle Book, the English department of my sleepy suburban school handed out copies of Life’s Little Instruction Book and Chicken Soup for the Soul to my 8th grade class. The thought must have been that learning secularized parables would be more beneficial for our intellectual growth.

Eventually, we were charged with the assignment of creating our own Life’s Little Instruction Book. We knew nothing of the real world and yet we were going to act as authorities on “how to live a happy and rewarding life.”

I recently found my flamboyantly illustrated attempt and was amused. “Don’t worry if you’re not the prettiest rose. We’re all beautiful in our own light” — my teacher found this little stroke of transcendental wisdom endearing. If I had to rewrite my 8th grade book of advice today, I might include that same instruction, though perhaps rewritten with less sentimentality, and add a few other insights I’ve picked up in the 13 years I’ve traveled since…

Invest in at least 1 Ina Garten cookbook. The orange scones in this one are an ace.

1. Invest in at least one Ina Garten cookbook

2. (Re)read Strunk & White’s “The Elements of Style”

3. Learn how to make your favorite cocktail

4. Plant an herb garden

5. Always have a go-to outfit

6. When you’re a broke grad student, never refuse his offer to pay for dinner

7. Become a member of at least one museum and visit often.

8. Keep in touch with your old study groups

9. Get a good tailor

10. Get lost in Italy

11. Have a pet

12. Don’t forget to thank you parents

Find your red lipstick and wear it often. Mine is Laura Mercier's Sexy Lips

13. Find a shade of red lipstick that suits you and wear it often

14. Print calling cards and never leave home without them

15. Learn all the words to “American Pie”

16. Drink lots of green tea

17. Buy a really good yoga mat

18. Write postcards when on vacation and send one to yourself

19. Print out your digital photos

20. Start a blog… and don’t look back.

Happiness is a warm puppy who loves you.

Things Facebook Tells Me That I’d Rather Not Hear

On By KathleenIn Bio Pics, Dating, insights/observations, Love5 Comments
Facebook reminds me I was nearly 20 lbs heavier in college -- note the size of my arm in exhibit 1 on the left vs. the more recently taken exhibit 2 on the right

My Facebook newsfeed and I have a tenuous relationship. When it alerts me to a friend’s favorite story in today’s New York Times or lets me know they safely escaped the tsunamis in Hawaii, I like my newsfeed. But just as often, facebook tells me things I’d rather not hear…

1. I was 15 pounds heavier in college, and looked it.

There are only 429 photos of me on facebook, and thankfully very few from my early college days, but the ones that are there…well, forget “freshman 15,” more like “freshman kiloton.” Blame one too many sports-related injuries and one too many late-night frozen yogurt study breaks. To de-tag or not to de-tag?

2. 4 people I went to high school with are already married.

It’s not like getting married is any measure of success or that I’m still competitive with people I haven’t spoken to in 7 years or anything…

3. The guy I’m in love with is “now in a relationship”…with a girl who isn’t me.

I probably should have de-friended him when we decided to go our separate ways, but then I would have lost stalking privileges. Seeing this on my newsfeed made me throw up a little… and then sign-up for OkCupid.

4. Those twats whose papers I used to edit are in PhD programs and on fellowship.

My teenage cousin has a more active sex life than I do.

When I was an MA student, I tutored a number of underclassmen in art history and edited their grad school applications. They couldn’t tell the difference between a brick and an original idea if their lives depended on it. Their status updates announced they had been accepted into prestigious PhD programs… the same programs that rejected me. Ironic, no?

5. My teenage cousin has a more active sex life than I do.

Every month, she has a new boyfriend. Every day she posts a new album of webcam photos featuring her making out with her latest beau. Maybe if I were a better older cousin, I’d try to reign her in, teach her about modesty, but more often I feel like asking her, “so, what’s your secret?”