Notes from The Relationship Journalist™!

To Crush or not To Crush...

2005-02-28T17:39:00.000-08:00

What's a girl to do? I've got a crush. A secret crush. An on-again, off-again, back to on-again crush. It's so very high school. Which explains why I want to call up all my girlfriends and ask for advice.

This past weekend, we went on what can only be described as a date. And it was fabulous!

Truth? I don't know what to do with myself. This is somebody I really like. And I think he likes me. And yet...

IF this were high school, then I would ask a friend to ask him about me. But this isn't high school. There's no one to ask. So I might just have to be brave and bold. And that scares the crap out of me.

We did we get so scared? When did dating someone you actually like become so scary? What am I afraid of? What's the worst that could happen?

We're friends. We could lose that. But we're not THAT good a friends. We don't run in the same circles. I would miss him if things didn't work out. But isn't it ultimately worth the risk?

Isn't it?

Happy Breakup Celebration Day!

2005-02-14T13:48:00.000-08:00

In honor of February 14th, I'm giving thanks for not being in a dead end relationship or settling for less than I deserve. And I'm wearing my fabulous "I'm not with Stupid anymore" t-shirt to show my spirit. Let's face it, folks. Valentine's Day is for Suckers. I even bought lollipops to prove it.

Here's a link to my Vday/Breakup Celebration Day press release: http://www.prweb.com/releases/2005/2/prweb207963.htm

And here's a link to my site: www.BreakupChronicles.com. Check out the recommended movie list. It's good!

Take a moment today to say "Thank God!" for all the ones who got away. ;)

Is something in the air...or what?

2005-02-11T00:03:00.000-08:00

Note to the universe: I'm NOT complaining!

Remember the long-self-imposed celibacy? The hiatus from men? Well, apparently it's ended. Probably because I'm not paying attention. Seems everywhere I go, I meet a guy! Not a bad problem to have. And not really a problem. Just an interesting observation. Hmm...

I've seen you naked...can we be friends?

2005-02-07T00:15:00.000-08:00

Well, so far so good. While I'm completely relieved that the magician is out of my bed, I'm happy to report that we may actually succeed at this friendship thing. Of course, this is purely speculation, considering we've only talked on the phone twice since the breakup. I don't think I'm ready to hang out in person yet. The memory of naked magic tricks is too fresh. Alas...

Ding Dong, the Magician's Gone...

2005-01-23T01:55:00.000-08:00

Wow. I just had the easiest breakup in history. So that's how it's done.

He asked if I wanted to get together this week. I said I thought this relationship had run its course. He said he felt the same way but that he'd like to hang out still cuz I'm a cool chick. I agreed. And then we said our goodnights.

And the thing is, I think we will hang out. He's a cool guy. Just not my guy.

I must admit, I did a little happy dance when I hung up the phone. Can you blame me? This is a guy who told me that once a woman sleeps with him, she never breaks up with him. He always has to end it. Because he's that good in bed, and no woman wants to give up such good sex.

I took it upon myself - for all womankind - to make sure I did the dumping here. Can you believe his nerve?

I give him credit. He knows where all the parts are. And he's fun in the sack. But come on. Just cuz you know where things are and some woman once upon a time liked it that way doesn't mean I do. And being dominant has its place in the bedroom, but sometimes I like to dominate. And he didn't like that. He only liked the motion of the ocean when he controlled it. And I'm sorry, that's not the kind of sex I want to be having for months and years to come.

So there you have it. No more naked magic tricks. But on the plus side, no more bizarre overly-doting cat behavior. Yes, I get that you love your cat. Now stop LOVING your cat.

Words like integrity and humility come to mind. Character traits I've always thought important but never fully valued. Maybe that's what this brief relationship taught me. The value and necessity of those traits. I smell a breakup story percolating!

I'm single again. Huh. Whaddaya know? It always comes back to this. I often wonder if there's really someone out there who's right for me. Someone who can handle my passion, my creativity, my moodiness, my zest for life. I bet there is.

And in the meantime? I plan to relish every moment of this incredibly selfish, self-indulgent life.

Riddle me this...

2005-01-12T22:53:00.000-08:00

Here's a conundrum. Let's say you start dating someone. You hit it off, have great chemistry, do the nasty, and find yourself suddenly "involved" with someone. And then you realize, maybe, just maybe you could like this person.

Time passes. You get to know each other better. Your likes, your dislikes. Your habits and routine.

And then you realize maybe, just maybe, you don't see this going anywhere.

At what point do you end it?

It's not that things are wrong. But the red flags have started popping up. You can't ignore them.

How long do you let things go on like this?

Are you playing Russian roulette with your emotions? And at what point do you put the gun down and walk away?

Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down, Just Don't Expect a Commitment

2005-01-03T15:32:00.000-08:00

After a long self-imposed celibacy, I have recently discovered the joy of sexual compatibility. This is new for me. In all of my past relationships, with the exception of the asshole ex when I was 22 and he was 37, I have been the wild one. I have been the one wanting more than five minutes of foreplay followed by fifteen minutes of so-so sex. Now, don't get me wrong. I've had amazing sex before. Hot, steamy, passionate sex. But like Goldilocks (or GoldiCocks as they said on Sex & The City), I've run into men who were too small, too big, or in some other way just not right.

With my high school boyfriend, well, we didn't know what we were doing. But damn, we had fun trying!

All of my college affairs involved alcohol, a brief loss of inhibitions, followed by shame, embarrassment, and general self-loathing. Not my finest years.

The 37-year old asshole bodybuilder was aggressive, demanding, and I was never sure if he was going to f*** me or kill me. What can I say? I was 22, naive, and very, very lucky to get out of that one alive.

With Mr. Nice Guy, the sex was nice. But I felt like the naughty schoolgirl wondering when the hell the guy was going to spank me. And he never did. Said he liked things the way they were. How did that go on for three years?

When I left that relationship, I decided to live my life to the fullest. That's when I really got in touch with who I am, who I want to be, what my desires are.

Enter the hottie. Otherwise known as that brief 2 month affair with the 22-year-old right before The One Who Rocked My World. That was the closest I got to true sexual compatibility. He was young, hot, and very attentive. I never left the house without a smile on my face. We actually clicked on a lot of levels. He was fun, goofy, sexy, and totally supportive of my passions and interests. Unfortunately, he committed Cardinal Sin #1 of dating. When I broached the subject of getting an HIV test, he flipped. And then I spent the next six months flipping out, getting tested every so often, even tho I'd been a conscientious safety gal the whole time we were together. Thank God for that.

And even with The One Who Rocked My World, I didn't quite feel sexually compatible. We were hot for each other, but our sexual styles were far from being in sync. He preferred to see me as Snow White rather than a Naughty Nurse. But then I'd stumble onto his poorly-hidden porn.

He was unwilling to merge the two - "virtuous" me and naughty "them."

Enter the magician. With his magic wand, plethora of titilating tricks, and penchant for naughtiness, my first thought the first time we were in bed was, is this my sexual soul mate or the devil incarnate? And since I haven't quite figured that out yet, I find myself going back for more and more and...

I confess. It's hot. It's every fantasy come to life. And it's so refreshing to be with someone who isn't afraid to experiment. Me likey.

But...

The chick side of my brain kicks in. Too often. I've been trying to keep her silent, telling her to chill out, shut the f*** up, just deal. But you know what? I'm human. So I confessed everything. And the magician, in all his coolness, listened and responded. But it's what he had to say that has my head spinning.

No promise of exclusivity. Now or in the forseeable future. Because of career and financial pressure, he doesn't want to feel tied down in any other areas of his life. OK, we all know that's Predictable Guy Code for "I'm Keeping My Options Open In Case Someone Better Comes Along."

Here's the thing. I'm not even sure I wanted monogamy at this point, but now that it's not an option, I feel more than a little foolish. This is like month-to-month apartment renting. And I own my own condo!

The truth is, it's only been a month. But an intense month. With 24-hour dates, amazing conversation, mind-boggling pillow play, and even some snuggle time. Needless to say, my brain has been distracted by my happy hormones.

I feel like "the talk" was my first real breath of fresh air since we met. And now that I'm back on oxygen, I find I'm liking it. And seeing things much more clearly.

And now I must decide. Do I want to be tied up without being tied down? Can I handle that? I'm not quite sure. And so, for the moment, I'll leave things undone.

Holy Crap! It's almost 2005!

2004-12-30T01:48:00.000-08:00

I can't believe how fast this year went. And where I am now compared to where I was at the beginning of 2004. Whew!

I feel like I'm in limbo right now. With work. Life. The boy.

I'm waiting to hear back about an amazing job opportunity. It's just like my last job. At the time, it was perfect for me. A dream come true. This new job would be tough. And I'd have to relocate. But I'd do it in a heartbeat to work for the queen of daytime television. Hell yeah! Think about how much I'd learn. The people I'd meet. The lessons I'd learn.

So until I hear about that, it's hard to make any plans. I'm hopeful but realistic. It wouldn't be perfect. I'd miss my friends. My family. But still...I'm ready for a new city, a new adventure.

And the boy, you ask? I really shouldn't call him that. He's a man. Thank God! Unlike the last boy. Who was sweet and kind and a complete mess. This one is a complete mess but fully aware of it. And funny as hell. And completely trained, if you know what I mean. I discovered that early on. And thanked my lucky stars. Oh yes, he knows what he's doing. Me likey. Me likey a lot. It's too soon to tell if this will be just a momentary fling or a real relationship. I'm in no hurry to define. I like what's happening. Did I mention he's got a magic wand? ;)

The Strike is Over...

2004-12-14T22:32:00.000-08:00

Here's the deal. I have been on a self-imposed year-long hiatus from men. I've dated, but purposely avoided any kind of physical contact or intimacy with a man.

Why? Because I felt like I kept making the same mistakes over and over. I kept choosing men who were wrong for me. Kept going back to the ex, even tho I knew he wasn't good for me. It was safe. Comfortable. Easy. But every time I went back to him, it wounded my spirit. Crippled my emotions. And so I had to put a stop to it. Every month that went by that I didn't seek out sex with the ex was a triumph. Believe me, there were many times when I wanted to go back. And many times when he invited me back. And yet I knew if I ever wanted to move on, I had to put a stop to my destructive behavior.

During the year-long strike, The Relationship Journalist™ was born. And The Breakup Chronicles. I was determined to learn from my mistakes, which meant dissecting my dating behavior. Additionally, I investigated good relationships, asking friends whose love lives I admired what their secret was. I did this not only for myself, but for other people, too. I am a storyteller. I want to share my experiences with others, and learn from others' experiences as well.

The strike is now over. I'm grateful to the man who ended it. Glad I chose him to end it with. He was kind and caring and good. And even tho our courtship was brief, I'm happy to have met him. And now, there's someone new. Someone unexpected. Someone fantastic. And I have re-entered the world of physical intimacy. Again, I'm grateful for the time I took off. I needed to get my head straight. And now I'm even more thankful that the strike is over.

Things could end tomorrow with the new guy. Or they could last a long time. Either way, I don't regret taking a risk, letting him in. This is part of my journey, both as an individual, and as The Relationship Journalist™.

Damn, it's good to be back.

And now a little something for the happily hooked-up...

2004-12-13T08:54:00.000-08:00

More holiday content...

10 reasons to be thankful for being in a healthy and happy relationship this holiday season...
Courtesy of The Relationship Journalist™

1. The 12 Days of Sex-mas – Learn it. Live it. Love it!

2. Dual income to help pay for all those holiday gifts

3. Someone special to wake up with on Christmas morning (or throughout Hanukkah, Kwanza, etc.)

4. A guaranteed date for the office holiday party

5. Someone special to kiss at midnight (and a guaranteed mistletoe buddy!)

6. Someone to share designated driver duties with during this party-hearty season

7. Someone extra special to shop for!

8. A travel companion if relatives and/or in-laws live far away (and a support system to help keep you sane while you’re there!)

9. If it’s a white Christmas, someone to help with the snow shoveling duties. (If it’s sunny? Someone to laugh with when you see pictures on the news of all the snowstorms across the country!)

10. Someone to blame when all the holiday goodies are eaten (even if you know it was really you!)

As the year comes to a screeching halt...

2004-12-09T02:22:00.000-08:00

Is anyone else freaked that it's December? Yipes! There goes 2004.

Man, life is changing. Fast. But good. I can't believe where I am at the end of '04, compared to the beginning. Quit the job, got over the guy, am dating pretty frequently after a long dry spell, and am taking charge of my health and happiness. Woohoo!

For the holidays, I put together some fun Christmas content, sent it out to everyone I knew, people I don't know, people I'd like to know. So here's the first installment of that content. Enjoy!

10 reasons to be thankful for being sassy and single this holiday season...

1. Football season
Love it? Watch all you want! Hate it? No need to even know who’s playing, who won, or worry about consoling a bad loser.

2. In-laws
When it comes to in-laws, you may or may not luck out. But this year, it’s not your problem. You’re a free agent!

3. Permission to flirt
Go for it - smile at that cutie in the Starbucks line, at your friend’s holiday party, or at the gift wrap counter. You never know!

4. A budget-friendly holiday season
Without that certain sweetie, you can save some hard-earned cash. Or better yet, splurge on something for yourself!

5. Time with friends and family
This holiday season, spoil your loved ones!

6. Possibilities
Mr. or Ms. Right is still out there. Why not relish in the possibilities? And in the meantime, make a bee-line for the mistletoe when you see your crush standing underneath it!

7. Reflect, renew, rejoice
Make the most of your single status by taking some much-needed time for yourself this season. Reflect on the past year. Rejoice in all your blessings. And make plans for the coming year!

8. George Clooney
Hallelujah! Mr. Clooney’s still single, too. (Hey, it COULD happen!)

9. And here’s one for the guys...
Salma Hayek’s single, too!

10. Celebrate your general fabulousness
When you feel good about yourself, it’s contagious! So wear that sassy Santa hat with your slinky red dress. And guys, adopt a sexy swagger or show off those dimples. Me-ow!

Everyone loves a magician...

2004-12-01T22:46:00.000-08:00

Is it wrong that I'm over it? I gave it a shot, right? We had two more dates after the delish makeout session. And yet...I didn't want to kiss him again. Nice guy. Boring guy. Talks too much guy. Got the hint guy. Hasn't called. Whew.

I've met someone new. It was completely unexpected. We met the old fashioned way. In person. At an event unrelated to online dating, Speed Dating, any kind of dating. How very 1995.

There's something magical about this guy. Can't quite put my finger on it. He's different. Interesting. Has that glint in his eye. Like he knows s***. I dig it.

The truth is, he could pull a disappearing act at any moment. And so could I. There are no guarantees. But for now, I know I'm interested in finding out more.

Notes from The Relationship Journalist™

2004-11-13T14:05:00.000-08:00

The Breakup Chronicles
I let go. I fell off the ledge, into the abyss of intimacy. I let him in. Not physically. There was no sex. But I allowed myself to be touched, emotionally and physically.

For the first time in a year, I kissed a man. The strike is over. I was holding out, tired of kissing fools as a consolation prize for a bad date. And tired of running into really, seriously, horrifyingly bad kissers.

THANK GOD he's a good kisser.

The good kisses were really just icing on the cake of an otherwise awesome third date. I can't believe the s*** that tumbles out of this guy's mouth. He's so real. So actualized. So mature. And yet the biggest kid. Somtimes it feels like he's reading my mind. Or that he's describing me when he shares a personal story. We're very similar in a lot of good ways. Both good listeners, both like to learn from our past experiences, both intent on making the most out of this life. Both interested in seeing where THIS is going. But at the same time, no pressure.

And yet...

I hesitate. Not sure if I want to plunge into the murky waters of coupledom. It's been two years of amazing personal growth. Probably two of the most painful years of my life. But also incredibly liberating, fruitful, and awesome. Do I want to give all that up? Do I have to?

Here's what no one is willing to admit about being single. At least, no one I know says it out loud. The beauty of being single is in the possibilities. They're endless. We've yet to meet our imperfect match and make a life together. We've yet to face the financial, emotional, and personal storms that come with an intimate partnership.

Every time I meet someone who I know I'm going to end up being in a relationship with, I feel this resistance. I don't want to give up that freedom. The freedom of not knowing. Of the endless possibilities. Of dreaming about a perfect person, all the while knowing he or she doesn't exist and that I'll one day settle down with an imperfect person.

I'm standing on the cliff's edge right now, looking down into the valley of couplehood. The place I've only dreamt about for two long years. A place I've been dying to enter. A membership that felt so far removed from my reality. And now I'm being invited in. And in typical "Lisa" response, I'm not sure I want to enter. After all this struggle, can it really be as easy as it feels?

One step at a time. Moment by moment. I'm not rushing. I'm in no hurry. I'll take my time. And just see where it leads.

Notes from The Relationship Journalist™

2004-11-12T16:36:00.000-08:00

The Breakup Chronicles

OK, so here's the deal. I've met someone. Someone cool. Someone I actually like who actually likes me back. Do you know how long it's been since mutual like and attraction have collided at the same time, in the same person, in the right moment? Like, years. Seriously.

It's still new. We haven't even kissed yet. We talk about it. But we also talk about taking it slow. We've both rushed into things before and it hasn't worked out. So we're cool with taking it slow.

Actually, we're cool with everything. He's cool with what I do for a living. Some guys get intimidated, thinking I'm a serial breakup artist or that I'm just using them as some kind of social experiment. No, this guy gets it. He's impressed, but not in an annoying, gushing, OMG, you're so great kind of way. More like, Hey, good for you. You're self-evolved and I dig it.

So what's the problem? If there is a problem? It's this: I'm scared shitless. I am so f-ing afraid. Of? You name it. Getting close, becoming intimate, getting attached, relying on this guy, letting him in. He's already in. I mean, how many people do I tell about that married couple?

We're going out tonight. And it's most likely going to be another awesome date. I feel so comfortable with him. He's so easy to be with. There's no judgement or bullshit. And yet, I'm petrified.

Third date. Feels like sixth date. To kiss or not to kiss. To leap or stay huddled on the ledge. To give myself permission to just go for it, no matter what the outcome. Or not.

More and more I realize how scared I've become. How Mr. Ex really f-ed my emotions up. I really and truly shut down after him. I don't blame him. I allowed it. I wanted to get creamed. Thought it would be good for me. Didn't realize it would almost wreck me.

But out of the ashes, The Relationship Journalist™ was born. And The Breakup Chronicles. How can I fault the pain when so much good came from it? I know what The Relationship Journalist™ would tell a friend who told her she was scared out of her mind. She'd say breathe, let go, and fly. Maybe just this once, I'll take my own advice.

Besides, it's only a third date.

The Breakup Chronicles

2004-10-27T12:55:00.000-07:00

Good God. It's been a month since I last updated my blog. Bad blogger.

So much has happened this month. It's really been transitional. And I'm so happy about that. I'm on this detox diet to get healthier. I'm losing weight. I realized the other night, this is the first time in six years that the scale is going down instead of up! Thank God. I have my closet back. Woohoo!

As for dating, I'm kind of putting that on the back burner until 2005. I'm still dating but much more casually and with little to no emotional investment. I had a second date with the coffee boy which was fun but then I never heard from him again. An awkward first date with another guy that I didn't even fret when we postponed our second date indefinitely. Some British guy found me on Yahoo IM and is coming to America next month. I love being a tour guide, so that will be fun. He seems cool. At first I thought he was a breakup spy cuz he asked so many questions about www.breakupchronicles.com. But then I realized he just digs the site. Cool!

As for the site, self-promotion is a full time gig, isn't it?

And speaking of, I better get going. Lots of work to be done.

Ta!

Adventures in Dating

2004-09-28T12:29:00.000-07:00

The Breakup Chronicles

I have a confession - I think I might be bitter. About men. About dating. About the possibility of EVER meeting someone who's for real. Living in Los Angeles probably doesn't help my case, but still. I'm losing hope. And I didn't realize just how bad it was until I was sitting at a coffee house last night, waiting to meet a strange man I'd met thru Yahoo IM on Friday night. The following is an excerpt from my journal as I waited...

9/27/04 8:00 p.m.
Well, I said I wanted to get back out there, so here I sit, back OUT THERE. This one is a waste of time. He's too Joe Hollywood for me. I'm at this trendy f***ing cafe in West Hollywood. Waiting. Ugh. I think I'm having major rejection fears right now. And yet, here I am, putting myself out there. Looking for a tall blond guy. Mental note: this can be research, if nothing else. All this dating is tax-deductible. By coining the term The Relationship Journalist, I have discovered the ultimate loop hole for writers. Ha! Write what you love. And write everything off. Let's hope the IRS doesn't monitor my blog.

This isn't awkward. No.

Have I mentioned my rejection factor is at an all-time high?

Oh yes, And I do believe I'm bitter. Oh yes. It's happened. I'll get over it. I know I will. But not while waiting for blondie.

We met Friday night. He IM'd me. We IM'd back and forth for an hour. Then chatted on the phone for another hour. I pretty much wrote him off, Bitter Girl that I am. But he called today. And here I am. Did I mention I have no hope? No expectations. Hey, maybe this is a good thing.

Is it wrong that I want that enormous woman over there to come and sit next to me? I could use the confidence boost. No? Oh well...

This has got to be THE trendiest coffee place in town. For real. Gimme a break.

I don't want to be here. I want to go home. Let's get this over with so I can go home. Bad Relationship Journalist. Bad! Where is your open mind? It closed when I saw all the skinny girls here.

Maybe he won't show. Jesus, when did I become THAT GIRL?

It's a full moon. I'm about to bleed.

Is that him? Shit, he's cuter than his picture. Fuck. Give me a minute.

The truth is, he turned out to be a really nice guy. Decent, with morals and goals, and lots of common interests. The first guy I've met in ages who wasn't afraid to talk about wanting kids someday. Wow. But you know what? I'm not going to wait for his call. I expect nothing. In fact, I expect he won't call. Normally I'm a positive person but I think when it comes to dating, a little pessimism is good for me. I'm trying pessimism on for size. Right about now, it fits pretty nicely.

The original breakup article

2004-09-27T13:35:00.000-07:00

The Breakup Chronicles

Here's the story that sparked The Breakup Chronicles...I wrote it a few years back. Enjoy!

You want to know what I do to get over a nasty breakup? I take a trip. Travel abroad. I’ve racked up so many frequent flyer miles at this point, I could go to the moon and back. And that’s okay. Because I haven’t met The One yet. And rather than settle, I go for the breakup. And then I go abroad. I cry, I sightsee, I fall in love. With myself, that is. Breakups take their toll on our self esteem. But the truth is, I’m all I’ve got. And rather than beat myself up over the end of a relationship, I cherish the fact that I probably learned something along the way.

With my college crush, I learned to make great ravioli from his mother’s recipe. With the bodybuilder, I learned that I actually liked to workout. With the Star Wars fanatic, I realized that nice guys really do exist. With the 22 year-old, I discovered how exciting I could be to another person. And with the one who rocked my world, I learned about unconditional love, and how amazing that could feel. With each new relationship, I discovered a little bit more about who I really am and what I want out of life. And that’s the girl I fall in love with every time I travel abroad. The sassy, creative, adventuresome girl who goes to the Greek Islands in hopes of mending her broken heart, who discovers a sense of connection with the universe in the rhythmic lapping of the Mediterranean sea on the shore, and who delights in how the sun dances off the white-washed buildings in the afternoon. If it weren’t for the breakup, I’d never discover these simple pleasures.

One day I hope to travel abroad with my husband. He’ll be handsome and witty and cultured and totally not neurotic. And he’ll love me for being unconventional, passionate, and a little bit nuts. But in the meantime, I’m not waiting for him to live out my dreams. I’m living them out every day on my own. So when he finally does come along, and his front tooth is crooked, or his spelling sucks, I’ll know that’s okay. Because I haven’t been waiting for my life to begin until Mr. Perfect arrives. I’m just looking for someone who’s brave and bold, ordinary and extraordinary enough to join me on the journey. After all, that’s what life’s about. The journey. The messy, imperfect, magnificent, and virtually invent-able journey. And what would that be without a little heartache here and there to let you know you’re really alive and kicking?

The Breakup Chronicles

2004-09-27T00:23:00.000-07:00

The Breakup Chronicles

Call me crazy - my latest adventure involved going on a field trip to The World's Biggest Engagement Ring Store. Read on for the details. I'm hoping this will get published in a magazine or newspaper...

The Engagement Ring and the Faux Beau: A Single Gal’s Field Trip
By Lisa Steadman, AKA The Relationship Journalist™

I recently paid a visit to the World’s Biggest Engagement Ring Store™.

No congrats necessary. It wasn’t because a certain someone popped a certain question. First, there’d have to be a certain someone. We’d have to get to know each other. Decide how we felt about that whole “Til death do us part” thing. Then, maybe. No, this trip was purely research.

Bear with me. I’m a 32 year-old single woman who hasn’t had those certain great-first-date butterflies in months. OK, maybe a year. And it’s not for lack of trying. I’ve been dating. Just no butterflies.

And so in my effort to de-mystify “the engagement,” that blissful time in a woman’s life when she insists on squealing and thrusting her ring finger in your face, I decided to pay a visit to The Ring Store. Seriously, there’s a monolithic ring-shaped structure out front. I drive by it frequently and on my good days, I think positive, life-affirming thoughts. On other days, I sense the big ring mocking me. And I recall the precise moment my mother handed me the book How to Marry After 35 and with a straight face – no, a sincere face – uttered the words, “I thought you could use this.”

Did I mention I’m only 32?

And so as I stand outside the pearly gates – or glass doors, you decide – of the World’s Biggest Engagement Ring Store™, I reflect on my last visit to a place like this.

I was 22. Young. Naïve. With the wrong man. It would have been a mistake. Still, if I’d known it’d be ten years before I set foot in one of these places again, well, I might have made different choices. God bless naïveté. I wouldn’t trade lives with my 22-year-old self for anything.

It’s at this moment that I take a deep breath, put one foot in front of the other, and boldly go where no 32-year-old single gal has gone before. Up the front steps. Breathe. Open front door. Smile at the people inside. Open second door. Wait. Second door is locked. Are they on to me already? Can they somehow sense I’m a single trying to break into their couple-oriented world? What gave me away? My split ends? The terrified grin plastered on my face? Oh, wait. They’re just buzzing me in. Never mind.

As I enter, I’m welcomed by a cheery young man who invites me to look around while he locates a sales associate. I smile and head towards the display cases in front of me. It’s at this moment that I realize I should probably get my story straight. After all, do I really expect anyone to give me the time of day if I confess the real reason for my visit – cultural curiosity?

I recall a recent article I read about an engagement ring company’s ad campaign directed at single professional women like myself. I believe the exact verbiage was
Your left hand says we; your right hand says me. Women of the world, raise your right hands.

While I’m footloose and fancy free of a romantic entanglement at the moment, I’m far from thumbing my nose at an institution I think I’d like to someday join. So I quickly concoct a different story.

And just in the nick of time. My sales associate Merry (is that her real name?) approaches. We shake hands, exchange first names, and she asks about the nature of my visit.

“My boyfriend suggested I go ring shopping,” I hear myself say. “You know, to see what I like.”

She responds favorably.

Good faux beau.

Over the next hour, we discuss ring shapes, sizes, color, clarity. Again, my answers seem to satisfy her because before I know it, there are dazzling diamonds being brought forth in various settings. I’m mesmerized. And to be honest, a little excited for me and my faux beau!

In between pear-shaped diamonds on platinum bands and 1.5-carat emerald cuts (my personal favorite, I discover), Merry and I chat about life, love, and engagements. I’m surprised at how easily the details of my faux beau come together.

His name is Jack. We’ve been together almost two years. He’s a writer. We were just on a cruise to the Mexican Riviera where, one night out of the blue, he suggested I go ring shopping.

Merry tells me I’ve got quite the catch. Who am I to disagree?

From the impressive selection of rings, I pick out a couple of traditional-looking settings. Merry looks surprised, then remarks that the designs are decidely different from the jewelry I’m wearing at the moment. She’s right. And as I continue browsing, I find a more antique-looking setting that will match my grandmother’s wedding ring that I wear on my right hand. Moments later, Merry shows me a matching wedding band. Together, they make a smashing pair.

While I admire the twin bands sparkling on my left ring finger, Merry asks if I have any idea when or how Jack will propose. I smile and say no. But that I’m very excited – and a little nauseated – nonetheless. She nods in understanding, and I almost believe it myself.

Merry then takes me into her office, measures my ring finger, and helps me create a Wish List on the store’s website. That way, Jack can take a look at my selection and then call the store with any questions. She’s so helpful, and even chatters on excitedly about an ex who’s recently started calling again. But I’m too caught up in my own euphoria to catch many of the sordid details.

My Wish List created, Merry arms me with a “Welcome to the Family” packet chock full of engagement/wedding-related goodies, and sends me on my way with a hug and a smile. I leave The Ring Store feeling giddy.

It isn’t until I’m safely seated at my favorite sushi restaurant fifteen minutes later, nursing some Miso soup that the faux beau fog lifts.

It was just a field trip, my mind tells me. Still, I have visions of my perfect engagement ring dancing in my head, and Merry’s delighted expression when I confessed that I wasn’t telling anyone in my family until the ring was on my finger.

“Don’t want Mom to hyperventilate,” I joke, and Merry laughs.

Now I just shake my head and wonder where the hell I get my nerve sometimes.

Halfway through my Rainbow Roll, I realize that I understand why “the engagement” elicits those high-pitched squeals and in-your-face ring thrusts. I just spent an hour caught up in the excitement myself, even with just a faux beau.

Yes, it’s about the ring. But more than that, it’s about what the ring means. Love. Everlasting love. At 32, I’m not yet cynical enough to say that I’ve given up on that notion. I do believe in happily ever after, regardless of the 50-50 odds that are a part of our 21st century reality.

Visions of the spectacular ring I chose still dance in my head as I savor my last bite of sushi. And yes, I know I could buy the ring for myself and wear it proudly on my right hand in a show of single pride. After all, I’m a thoroughly modern gal with my own condo, active social life, and exciting career path.

But you know what? I am not THAT girl. No, I’m still holding out for the real deal. After all, if “the engagement” was this exciting with a faux beau, imagine what it’ll be like with Mr. Right. I think it’s worth the wait.

I just hope Merry and Jack will understand.

Welcome to my blog!

2004-09-23T13:47:00.000-07:00

Hey there! This is my first post. Guess I better make it count.

Recently, I launched a website www.breakupchronicles.com, featuring personal stories about how breaking up with the wrong person was the right thing to do. The site combines the sass and honesty of Sex & The City with the hopeful inspiration of Chicken Soup for the Soul. I welcome submissions from anyone, and have written about many of my own breakups. Feel free to check out the site! Whether you're into the voyeuristic angle or the enlightening one, it's definitely worth the click.

In the process of launching my website, I learned a lot. About breakups. About relationships. About myself. And while I update the site on a weekly basis, I realized I wanted to have an online destination where I could write about more than just breakups. Not wanting to hire another designer and programmer, I decided a blog was the way to go.

So. Stay tuned for my adventures. And thanks for stopping by!