I once had a roommate in college who shunned the usual terms of endearment – the babys, the sweeties, even the pumpkins – and instead affectionately dubbed her boyfriend “Pooper.”  He, (because really, how does one top that?), also called her Pooper.  Did I mention they said it in baby voices?  They did.

Ew?

Yeah, yeah, a rose by any other name and all that.  I get it.  But really ... POOPER??

]]> http://www.juliaallison.com/articles/2007/07/terms_of_endearment.html http://www.juliaallison.com/articles/2007/07/terms_of_endearment.html Time Out New York Wed, 25 Jul 2007 23:16:16 -0500 BODILY DYSFUNCTION
TIME OUT NEW YORK
JULY 18-25, 2007
JULIA ALLISON

Personally, I would prefer that the men I date think of me as a nice-smelling robot – incapable of peeing, farting, burping, menstruating, sweating, or, yeah, #2.  And honestly, I’d be quite content to think the same of them.

It’s not that I’m against bodily functions, per se.  I suppose they have their purposes - toxin excretion, gas discharge, uterine housecleaning, womb regeneration, that sort of thing.  I just don’t think they have a place in the tenuous and judgmental world of dating.

That said, there comes a time in every relationship when the reality of being a living, breathing, and yes, excreting animal becomes difficult to avoid – particularly since most NYC apartments lack extra bathrooms and soundproof walls.  But how long until you can relax your, uh, “standards” in front of your significant other?  Or should you ever?]]> http://www.juliaallison.com/articles/2007/07/bodily_dysfunction.html http://www.juliaallison.com/articles/2007/07/bodily_dysfunction.html Time Out New York Wed, 18 Jul 2007 17:51:49 -0500 MATCHMAKER'S MARK
TIME OUT NEW YORK
JULY 11-18, 2007
JULIA ALLISON

On any given summer night, men at outdoor bars have four general goals: (1) Enjoy the weather; (2) enjoy their buddies; (3) enjoy the alcohol; (4) get laid.

Given the obscene amount of time men have collectively spent trying to figure out the most expeditious way of achieving No. 4—years of monosyllabic discussion (“You bang her yet?” “No.” “Sucks.”), whole books devoted to the art of the pickup (like 2005’s best-seller The Game)—you’d think they would have mastered it by now. Um, no.

So on a recent Saturday night, I decided to put my dating-advice columnist life on the line, hopping down to Bohemian Hall and Beer Garden (29-19 24th Ave between Crescent and 24th Sts, Astoria, Queens)—a huge outdoor space with beers and, yep, more than a few sausages, both the edible kind and the kind that needed my advice.]]> http://www.juliaallison.com/articles/2007/07/tony_feature_queens_dating_advice.html http://www.juliaallison.com/articles/2007/07/tony_feature_queens_dating_advice.html Time Out New York Thu, 12 Jul 2007 10:46:17 -0500 SHOESTRING THEORY HOW TO FAKE IT 'TILL YOU MAKE IT
TIME OUT NEW YORK
JUNE 14-19, 2007
JULIA ALLISON

I’ve been on all sorts of dates – some cheap (Queens!), some definitively not (St Barths!).  But as any veteran dater knows, it’s not the total outlay on your black Amex that makes a date extraordinary.  A bargain outing can seem extravagant, while the most expensive can be downright trashy (like the guy who showed me the bill for our super-pricey dinner because it was a “weird” number – $666.  Classy!).

So you can’t (or don’t want to) compete with some private equity guy’s tickets to the Met and helicopters to the Hamptons?   No worries!  Amir Blumenfeld, Ethan Trex and Neel Shah, the three twenty-something rouge authors of Faking It: How to Seem Like a Better Person without Actually Improving Yourself, have brainstormed solutions for just you, you cheapskate.]]> http://www.juliaallison.com/articles/2007/06/tony_shoestring_theory.html http://www.juliaallison.com/articles/2007/06/tony_shoestring_theory.html Time Out New York Thu, 14 Jun 2007 12:00:00 -0500 THE AGE OF SEX
TIME OUT NEW YORK
JULIA ALLISON
JUNE 7-13, 2007

From the trailer of NBC’s new reality dating show, Age of Love:

“These 40-year-old women have experience, confidence and sophistication. But what if they had to compete with a group of 20-year-olds to win the heart of one of the world’s most eligible bachelors? Will he pick a kitten or a cougar?”

Nothing like a little high-concept reality TV to start off the summer!

Expert, n.: a person who has a comprehensive or authoritative knowledge of or skill in a particular area. Or, someone who says they do.

Much to my amusement, I’ve been the “expert” on a variety of subjects (including Paris Hilton, presidential politics, American Idol and the Wii) about which I possess little expertise—much less “comprehensive or authoritative” knowledge. I’ve never even seen the Wii, dammit! 

I’ve also been called a relationship expert. This, on the other hand, I am.

At the beginning, I found it romantic—the wine, the candles, the very tiny artichokes in our salads. But after a while, the meals started to blur together. And then, I realized I had not only gained 15 pounds (a solid 15 pounds), but the very idea of ordering $28 salmon made me long for a sandwich from my deli and a night alone with my TV.

I had overdosed on dinner dates. I’m still detoxing, in fact. And I’m not the only one.

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time, by Robert Herrick

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
Tomorrow will be dying.

I'm not usually one for quoting 400-year-old poetry, but I have to give it to Herrick – he knew whereof he spoke.  Except for that whole "virgin" part (and, well, the use of "ye"), seizing the romantic day is about as modern a sentiment as anything – particularly in Manhattan on the cusp of summer.

I’ve never gone on spring break.  Oh sure, I thought about it.  Watched MTV on it.  Practiced “going wild” in front of my mirror to prepare for it.  But for some reason, I made it through my entire college career without ever experiencing the triple sweetness that is Simultaneous severe alcohol poisoning, Sunstroke and STDs … in a beach-centric locale, of course.

I sincerely regret missing out – shockingly, those things just aren’t as much fun once you’ve graduated.

But you, my wanton cupcakes, still have time!  In order to engage in the maximum amount of tropical debauchery before rent, gravity and liver failure take effect, follow my advice below.

Then get your ass on a plane to Mexico, sew a little pocket into your swimsuit to hold the condom and repeat this mantra to yourself: never again will I have so many more or less naked, nubile 19-year-olds wanting to jump my bones (unless I intend to become a professional athlete).

In other words, gather ye rosebuds, bitches.  You're in for a ride.

Name:  Mike Harrison
Age: Old with a British Accent
School: Manchester Metropolitan University in the UK – degree in Chemistry, Phd in Polymer Chemistry
Official Title: Senior Principal Scientist for Trojan
Cool Title: Condom Tester

How, exactly, does one test condoms?  Just put ‘em on and see what happens?
No.  The main stability test involves unrolling the condom onto a specialized post and forcing air into it until it expands to 40 liters in size.  Then you measure the pressure when the condom bursts.

The Official Intelligence-Pulchritude Fairness Equation usually works like this: you either get beauty, or you get brains.  You don’t get both.  And you certainly don’t get to go to Yale and simultaneously be a professional model.  That just pisses people off.