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January 23, 2006

More on V-day: Lots of clichés

MORE ON V-DAY: LOTS OF CLICHES

AM NEW YORK - "THE DATING LIFE"

JANUARY 23, 2006

BY JULIA ALLISON

Valentine's Day is so fraught with clichés that there's nothing remotely original left to say about it. You can't say you love it. Been done, obviously. You can't say you hate it. Definitely been done, with vitriol by people even more bitter than you.

And you certainly can't use the word Hallmark and over-commercialized in the same sentence. You might as well stamp "trite" on your forehead.

 

To stem the tide of irate V-Day platitudes, I suggest the following guidelines (with love, of course):

1) Put things in perspective. April 15th (uh, tax day) is a pain-in-the-ass, just sucks, no-good-part-about-it hassle. Valentine's Day, on the other hand, is an opportunity. People are so eager to dismiss any holiday that requires effort as an obnoxious inconvenience that they forget life would be pretty damn boring otherwise. Taking time out to celebrate, to appreciate the people you love, to demand presents and copious praise from your significant other (or, barring that, your mother) – this is the good part of life!

2) Stop. Complaining. Now. It's not V-Day's fault that your personal life leaves something to be desired. So you don't have a date, you don't have a boyfriend, you have a boyfriend but he's ugly, you have a girlfriend but she wants a ring, you haven't had sex in a year. These are not calamities! (Except maybe the last one.) Frankly, every single one of those is your own damn fault. Yes, Valentine's Day has a tendency to highlight romantic problems in your life – but instead of whining about them, change them!

3) Try out a little Valentine's Day amnesia. Even if you've had a decade of uninterrupted V-Day duds, get over your past disappointments. After all, "one of the keys to happiness is a bad memory," says an optimistic friend of mine. There's nothing wrong in forgetting the past, especially if it involved playing "What the World Needs Now (Is Love)" over and over as you penned unrequited declarations of love in your journal.

Okay, so you've done all that. But you're still single. And you still hate Valentine's Day (even after my lecture on clichés). I have only one idea left for you: Valoween. It's a combination of the two greatest holidays of the year: the party-atmosphere and costumes of Halloween with the red/pink color-scheme and actual sex of Valentine's Day. Throw in some remixed love songs and sangria and it will be the newest, most popular holiday in America – clearly benefiting the unattached, for once.

After all, men may not like buying flowers for their girlfriend, but they sure as hell wouldn't mind buying a drink for a girl in vintage lingerie on Valoween.

Which is what I'm counting on.

Why you should love Valentine's Day

WHY YOU SHOULD LOVE VALENTINE'S DAY

AM NEW YORK - "THE DATING LIFE"

JANUARY 23, 2006

BY JULIA ALLISON

I received an email last week which grouched: "The dirty little secret about Valentine's Day is ... EVERYBODY HATES IT."

Um …. no they don't. They definitely don't. In fact, everyone LOVES Valentine's day, they just don't like when their Valentine's Day sucks.

An opportunity to – theoretically – receive diamonds and roses and chocolate and love letters and lingerie and champagne and sex? Oh, the cliché of it all! The consumerism!! The … wait. Those gifts are popular because PRETTY MUCH EVERYONE LOVES THEM. It's a rare, rare woman who will be upset if she receives any of the aforementioned. And it's a rare man who will be unhappy with the thought of an evening spent in bed with you and your new lingerie. Are those stereotypes? Hell yes, they are.

With a half dozen officially sucky Valentine's Days under my belt, I'm still in thrall of the unmitigated potential of the occasion. This is perhaps surprising, given that my most memorable February 14ths include being given a regifted copy of All Quiet on the Western Front (um, it's a war novel. What?!?) and years later, after even my backup date had stood me up, eating an entire jar of frosting. Alone.

No matter – I'm a perpetual optimist. And that frosting was actually quite good. Just because I haven't had a "perfect" Valentine's day … yet … doesn't mean it won't happen sometime in the future!!

Still, if I've learned one thing from my impressive streak of not-quite-romantic V-Days, it's that the holiday rarely goes well for procrastinators. That's why I'm giving you singles ample warning – 23 days, to be exact – to fall madly in love with a tall, dark, handsome (short, blonde, hot?) stranger – and, hell, lose 20 pounds while you're at it.

Or, barring that, find the next best thing – that guy at the gym, the next-door neighbor, the boss of your ex-boyfriend (ha!!) – and flirt like you're on a reality show with a two- week deadline and significant cash prize.

If you've already snagged a living, breathing human boyfriend of your own, don't encourage him to be "creative." Boys don't understand what that means. Encourage him to think of all the romantic clichés and buy into every one of them.

In other words, get off your snarky, I'm-too-hip-to-possibly-visit-Hallmark New Yorker butts and plan something so ridiculously romantic and cheesy, even Nora Ephron would wince.

Because one day a year, there's nothing wrong with enjoying the hackneyed fantasy of it all – just the way you enjoy Disney movies and celebrity weddings. Are they real? No. Will they get divorced? Yes. (next up? "Cinderella: The Custody Battle"). But in the meantime, they'll make you cry like a thirteen-year-old girl watching Titanic.

January 16, 2006

Sucked into 'The Bachelor'

SUCKED INTO 'THE BACHELOR'

AM NEW YORK - "THE DATING LIFE"

JANUARY 16, 2006

BY JULIA ALLISON

I have to admit, I've never watched The Bachelor before last week. The hormone-charged, fake-mansion-housed catfight for love never held my attention.

Maybe it's my tendency to become acutely embarrassed for the poor bachelorettes, who seem to alternate between sounding desperate "I'm here to find me a MAN," and getting rejected, "Why??? WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME? We've only known each other three days but you were my SOULMATE and I WANT THAT ROSE, DAMNIT!"

Maybe it was because I was still pissed about being assaulted with so many photos of "Trista and Ryan" ("Trista and Ryan sunbathing!" "Trista and Ryan still in love!" "Trista still a lot shorter than Ryan!")

Maybe it's because the last few bachelors have been, frankly, an orgasm killing turn off. And you know a man is undesirable when he's in a tux and still looks like Napoleon Dynamite (like the curly haired tool Bob Guiney).

Or maybe it's just my tendency to be doing something better on Monday nights, like … reading US Weekly.

Still, I recently got on the DVR bandwagon, so I threw caution to the wind and set my recorder to tape … yes … "The Bachelor: Paris."

I figured I could just fast-forward to the Rose Ceremony and if I felt too traumatized, hit play immediately on a saved Daily Show for an emergency dose of sarcasm. (Hypothetical of the Day: What if Jon Stewart hosted The Bachelor? Hmmmm)

So I was more than surprised when the chisel-jawed Dr. Travis Stork and his harem of wannabe girlfriends – 25 over-coiffed commercial-model types (most a decade or so younger than the 33 year old bachelor) actually kept my attention. Yes, Stork looks more like an actor playing a doctor and yes, with a name like Stork, he really should be a gynecologist, but bottom line, he went to MEDICAL SCHOOL and that's just hot.

Which brings up the central tenet of The Bachelor: Women. Will. Never. Get. Over. Their. Prince. Charming. Fantasies.

And this is the reason that we'll continue to watch it … even if it's somewhat – okay, totally – artificial. And even if the premise is very 1950s. And even if we do think it's mildly degrading to fight for a man. And even if the host is made of cardboard. And even if not once did any of the participants, including the cardboard host, say anything that remotely resembled wit and/or intelligence.

This, and the fact that the only bachelorette to also have an M.D. actually went up to dear Dr. Stork and announced that her "eggs were rotting," and she was "ready to start the reproductive phase" of her life.

Now I see why people love reality television.

January 09, 2006

Picking up more than groceries

PICKING UP MORE THAN GROCERIES

AM NEW YORK - "THE DATING LIFE"

JANUARY 9, 2006

BY JULIA ALLISON

The hottest new pick up joint isn't a single monikered bar or a club, like Marquee or Stereo. It's a little grocery store called Whole Foods.

As the self-proclaimed "World's Leading Natural and Organic Foods Supermarket," they attract a certain sort of New Yorker: Hot, Healthy and able to describe the taste of "Tofurky."

Maybe Whole Foods has secret guards who kick out fat, ugly, Dorritos addicted married people. Or maybe the population, much like Manhattan or the audience for The Bachelor, is self-selecting.

After all, Whole Foods isn't the cheapest, but it's the grocer of choice for young, personal-trainer having, calorie counting, vitamin loving, incredibly good looking shoppers. In other words, the people you want to sleep with.

Unfortunately, the grocery store is completely underrated as a hot spot for getting a date. In fact, there's no place more perfect for meeting people and/or discussing wheat gluten.

Why? Unlike a bar …

1) It's pretty easy to tell who's single. After all, no one "takes off their ring" just to go to the grocery store. We hope. And women in serious relationships tend to drag their significant others with them "for support." Always lagging a few feet behind, the boyfriends/husbands look frantically at their Blackberries and wish desperately they were single and could just buy Captain Crunch (definitely not sold there).

2) Converse for free! That's right, no need to purchase an alcoholic beverage to talk to some hottie. Just lean over in the grains aisle and ask whether she prefers sugar-free Muesli or steel cut oatmeal. Throw in a reference to Flax seed oil and you're in.

3) You can hear them and they can hear you (Muzak, unlike Limp Bizkit, never requires shouting). This could be a disadvantage if you're conversationally inept and/or can't speak English, but it's distinctly useful if you've had one too many hookups whose names you can't recall, because you never actually, uh, heard anything they said.

4) You'll remember the encounter. Unless you go in there with your own whisky flask and take shots while perusing goat's milk cheese, you'll probably be sober. Which means you'll remember exactly what you said, and what she said, and then what you said after that – yeah, basically everything. Which is how memory works when you're not obliterated. Awesome, right?

5) You can have a dinner date right there. Every Whole Foods has a dining section, so just hop into an aisle where a young lady is buying her dinner, offer to pay (Sweet! You got out of a wallet breaking trip to Nobu), escort her to the table and woo her like you're the raw diet Casanova.

Of course, the possibilities for sex in the bathroom are greatly reduced, but I'm sure you'll figure something out.

Picking up more than groceries

PICKING UP MORE THAN GROCERIES

AM NEW YORK - "THE DATING LIFE"

JANUARY 9, 2006

BY JULIA ALLISON

The hottest new pick up joint isn't a single monikered bar or a club, like Marquee or Stereo. It's a little grocery store called Whole Foods.

As the self-proclaimed "World's Leading Natural and Organic Foods Supermarket," they attract a certain sort of New Yorker: Hot, Healthy and able to describe the taste of "Tofurky."

Maybe Whole Foods has secret guards who kick out fat, ugly, Dorritos addicted married people. Or maybe the population, much like Manhattan or the audience for The Bachelor, is self-selecting.

After all, Whole Foods isn't the cheapest, but it's the grocer of choice for young, personal-trainer having, calorie counting, vitamin loving, incredibly good looking shoppers. In other words, the people you want to sleep with.

Unfortunately, the grocery store is completely underrated as a hot spot for getting a date. In fact, there's no place more perfect for meeting people and/or discussing wheat gluten.

Why? Unlike a bar …

1) It's pretty easy to tell who's single. After all, no one "takes off their ring" just to go to the grocery store. We hope. And women in serious relationships tend to drag their significant others with them "for support." Always lagging a few feet behind, the boyfriends/husbands look frantically at their Blackberries and wish desperately they were single and could just buy Captain Crunch (definitely not sold there).

2) Converse for free! That's right, no need to purchase an alcoholic beverage to talk to some hottie. Just lean over in the grains aisle and ask whether she prefers sugar-free Muesli or steel cut oatmeal. Throw in a reference to Flax seed oil and you're in.

3) You can hear them and they can hear you (Muzak, unlike Limp Bizkit, never requires shouting). This could be a disadvantage if you're conversationally inept and/or can't speak English, but it's distinctly useful if you've had one too many hookups whose names you can't recall, because you never actually, uh, heard anything they said.

4) You'll remember the encounter. Unless you go in there with your own whisky flask and take shots while perusing goat's milk cheese, you'll probably be sober. Which means you'll remember exactly what you said, and what she said, and then what you said after that – yeah, basically everything. Which is how memory works when you're not obliterated. Awesome, right?

5) You can have a dinner date right there. Every Whole Foods has a dining section, so just hop into an aisle where a young lady is buying her dinner, offer to pay (Sweet! You got out of a wallet breaking trip to Nobu), escort her to the table and woo her like you're the raw diet Casanova.

Of course, the possibilities for sex in the bathroom are greatly reduced, but I'm sure you'll figure something out.

January 02, 2006

New Year's Dating Resolution

NEW YEAR'S DATING RESOLUTION

AM NEW YORK - "THE DATING LIFE"

BY JULIA ALLISON

JANUARY 2, 2006

I'm a New Years Resolutions kind of girl. I love making them and the bigger, the better. From dieting ("no food. Ever.") and exercise ("twice a day for three hours each!") to drinking ("limit alcohol intake to one color at a time") and debt ("never buy anything again").

For dating, I go all out. In 2004, I resolved to have no sex. (It was a long year.) In 2005, I resolved to get laid – fast.

All New Yorkers could use a dating resolution – or eight. (Forget celibacy.) In 2006, make it your goal to rethink the way you date, to completely change your dating modus operandi – you know, the same things you've been doing since your mom handed you a copy of The Rules in 1995 or the same type of girl you've been chasing since you had your first wet dream.

This year, mix it up a little. Date outside your comfort zone. For those seeking The One, go out with people who aren't "marriage material." Pierced? Divorced? Investment banker? You'd be surprised at how enjoyable unsuitable, can't-bring-them-home-to-mom types are (well, maybe not the i-bankers).

Remember that the best dating war stories come from the worst dates – and no one is funnier at a cocktail party than the girl recounting her date-from-hell ("and then he asked if his dog could watch!")

This year, dump your significant other. You know, the one who you've been breaking up / making up with since freshman year in high school. It's getting old. You're getting old. And let's be honest, relationships like this rarely change. Make your friends/parents/therapist happy and move on already.

Or maybe you've been trudging along in a mediocre exclusive relationship because it's comfortable and he pays for dinners and she's pretty good in bed and it's a pain in the rear to find a new apartment anyway. You're not doing anyone any favors, except maybe your landlord (he'll be okay). Just rip off the band-aid and end it.

For those who have a strict policy of three months before sex with a new guy – go wild! Sleep with him on the first date. For those who stock up on Trojans before they learn their date's last name, keep your pants on.

Throw away your preconceived notions – date a drugdealer, a different race, a Republican. Try something totally crazy – don't get smashed on the first date (something I should really attempt one of these days). Ask out that guy at the gym – while you're sweaty and gross.

Kiss an older woman, sleep with a younger man, have a fling with your best friend's brother. Stop telling yourself you're too young, you're too old, maybe it's just not the right time, maybe you're just not a "relationship" person, maybe you'll just always be a playa. You won't. I assure you.

And for godsakes, let this be the year you try a threesome.

January 01, 2006

No College Guy Left Behind

COED MAGAZINE
JANUARY 2006
BY JULIA ALLISON

The focus of the average male’s college education is three-pronged:  1) Maintain nocturnal hours so as to sleep easily during class. 2) Master the art of beer pong. 3) Get laid as often as possible.

The third, of course, causes the most trouble (although depending on your level of intoxication, beer pong can be tricky too), especially for those men who aren’t, well, traditional studs.

Neil Strauss is one of those men – or he was, at least.  Author of “The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists,” Strauss is arguably the most unlikely pickup artist you’d ever meet.  He’s a self-described “lump of nerd,” who, true to stereotype, happens to be bald, short and “so skinny that I look malnourished to most people.” (Damn, I wish I had that problem!)

Strauss admits he was “dateless” in high school, and after deciding to go to Vassar College (“for the male-female ratio”), he still couldn’t get a girlfriend.  Although he later transferred to Columbia, he graduated to become a journalist - not exactly the kind of profession that lends itself to hot groupies.  So how is it that for three years he managed to attract and sleep with any woman he wanted, finally landing the tall, blonde, guitarist in Courtney Love’s band as his girlfriend?

He’s managed it because he mastered the science of seduction.  And yes, it is a science, not just a bevy of hackneyed pick up lines.  Strauss trained with the best pick up gurus in the world, read thousands of pieces of literature, and embarked on a two year, in-depth behavioral study of what women really respond to – not what they say they respond to (yes, there is definitely a difference).

That Strauss was blisteringly victorious in his quest is not so surprising to me – that’s what happens when intelligent, dorky men redirect their efforts from mastering Dungeons & Dragons to determining how to snag and shag women most effectively.  What is surprising is that so many other men have no idea that they can be just as successful – despite any number of “disadvantages” (height, weight, bad fraternity, lazy eye, whatever).

So, because I feel that No Guy should be Left Behind, I’m going to give you a crib sheet from Neil on how to be a playa.  And by “playa” I mean a woman-loving stud-a-thon barely able to rip the girls away so you can take a leak in peace.  Yeah, that kind of playa!

First and foremost, college men “need to understand attraction and social dynamics,” Struass says. “Often, the things we’ve been taught and our logic fail us – attraction can be extremely counter-intuitive.”  In other words, stop doing what you’ve always done.  Stop buying the beer, telling her she’s attractive, and in any way making it obvious you want to sleep with her.  Of COURSE you want to sleep with her!  She’s female!  You’re male!  You’re drunk!

The worst thing you can do is to hit on a good-looking woman with the blatant premise that you want sex with her.  Attractive college girls are arguably the most desired human beings in the world (right after the sorority of T&A who grace the pages of Maxim and Stuff) – they’re so used to men hitting on them, telling them they’re hot, buying them drinks, dinner and expensive footwear, it just rolls off their very pretty backs.

In response, women snub a lot of well-meaning guys when they try to buy them a drink or get their number.  But it’s not that they’re bitches – they’re not.  They just have to be selective because they can’t sleep with everyone.  So you have to stand out; you have to prove to her that you, “a nobody,” have something she wants.  One tip?  Give her a backhanded compliment – “a neg,” in Strauss terms.  Say: “Nice hair – is it real?” “Awesome teeshirt – did your grandma give it to you?” or “Do you always wear so much makeup?”

The trick is to make it sound playful while at the same time indicating to her that her boner-inducing beauty doesn’t register with you.  You want to make her feel a bit uncomfortable, a little insecure, but not angry.  After that, she’ll be eagerly trying to win you over.

And get over looks – that is, your own looks.  “Women are more attracted to status,” Strauss argues (and I can tell you, from the perspective of a female, he’s correct).  “And status isn’t about money or fame - it’s a set of behaviors.”

What kind of behaviors?  Although Strauss cautions that you “need a lot more than a few good moves,” he did emphasize a few highly constructive guidelines.

Some Don’ts:

  • Don’t buy her a drink. You shouldn’t have to pay for her time.
  • Don’t hit on her right away.  Start a conversation with a fun, entertaining question and make sure you include her friends in the conversation.  (See sidebar for examples.)
  • Don’t start the conversation with words like “excuse me” or “I’m sorry but,” because then you sound like a beggar.
  • Don’t ignore her friends and only hit on her. If you can win her friends over, you’ll win her over.
  • Don’t hesitate to approach. Follow the three-second rule, which means you have three seconds to go up to her.  If you stare too long, not only will she start to think you’re a creep, but you’ll get nervous and psych yourself out.
A few Dos:

  • Always maintain an attitude that one of the pickup gurus, David D’Angelo, calls cocky/funny. Act as if you’re the most attractive guy on campus but, at the same time, don’t take yourself seriously at all. No matter what you look like, constantly accuse women of just using you for your body and treating you like a piece of meat – even if they’re just asking for notes from yesterday’s class.
  • When you approach a group of women, tell them how long you’re going to stay (“not long”) – time constraints ease the awkwardness of meeting strangers.  From that point forward your goal is to display enough personality that they’ll want you to stick around anyway.
  • Try to spend as much time as possible in the company of women, so that other women think you have something going on.

All of this works.  I promise.

While some women may look askance at a book about the methodology that enables nerds to land 10s, I, for one, fully approve of Strauss’ strategies.  There’s nothing wrong with not-quite-male-models finally getting the balls to talk to women they had previously considered “out of their league.”  It’s the Playa’s Horatio Alger story.

Of course, now you have no more excuses for your “dry-streak” – get out there!