Feb

9

Enter Pride and Prejudice, Exit Sense and Sensibility

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Exit

Nowadays, entering the dating world can be very tricky. There are too many points of entry, with no direct intent in evidence. Simply, starting something is the equivalent of ending nothing.

To rely on the other person of interest to provide some answers during courtship is taking an open-ended, unsatisfying, risk. A reaction can range from neglect to indifference; playing hard to get to being just plain busy. A response so casual it’s hard to determine when leaving the door, if “this is just chai” or “about having children.”

Dating has quickly adapted to the fast and loose rules of Facebook, not feedback, where falling in love is as easy as a push of a button; an “add as a friend,” or “a listed as.” Conversations among contacts can be the product of boredom, loneliness, intrigue, flirtation, or a combination of any of the above, with plans never fully realized beyond the flashing cursor on the screen. Read more

Oct

6

Relationsham: Texting Milton Glaser

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I…NY

Not too long ago, a friend of mine was telling me about a text he received from a woman friend who was starting to put her feelings “on the line” (the wireless kind) about their relationsham relationship. Never one to have entered the dating scene, I asked my friend what form chivalry takes on in relationship 3.0. (2.0 is so Canterbury Tales). He told me that her romantic confession was unadorned (who needs details?), to the point (who has the time?), and paired down to the absolute essentials (who needs excuses?). Most of all, it was serious, which started to concern him. The text message read “I…U.”

Call me what you will–and don’t bother starting with old fashioned because I date somewhere between Darwin and DOS so reach back into your arsenal for something clever; I’m game–but, excuse me?

Of course. Why didn’t I see this before? A commitment of the heart that resembles a Milton Glaser mad lib at best. Why would there be any confusion? Read more

Jul

28

Relationsham: Eggs Over Easy

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Egg Race Damien Hirst In and Out of Love

Every so often, I take a break from my regular fiction reads, and delve into a bit of chick lit for a “mental break.” At the beginning of the year, I read Getting Rid of Matthew, and was so surprised with the read, that I considered optioning the book. (But stopped when I learned that the author is a celebrity in the UK, and figured the rights must have been bought up as part of the book publishing deal.)

Recently, I read another British author’s version of being a thirties-single something (no reason why I keep going to Brit books; I think they just have the most interesting book covers) and was equally impressed. The Egg Race by Polly Williams. At one point in the read, the story made me stop, sit up (in bed) and have a think. And then, a revelation.

There’s no “elation” in relationsham. Read more

Jun

3

The Relationsham Menu: Now Serving Jerk Chicken

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Lion Piven

I gotta commend the Cowardly Lion. It knew it didn’t stack up to much, but it wanted to change that. Get a spine and a have no fear. Maybe stand-up to a person or two. Improve upon its quality of life. Seek professional help even.

Who cares if it was a wizard! It’s a start, right?! Right!

Not today’s new man. Today’s new man is yesterday’s Cowardly Lion. Today’s new man is Jerk Chicken. Read more

Apr

16

Handful or Handbag: The Beginnings of Relationsham

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Apple Ashley and Accessory

Over the weekend, I was persuaded to accompany a friend to a small fête attended by people I hadn’t seen in almost ten years. The get-togeth was incredibly fun; catching-up with old friends, picking up where we had last left off as if no time had passed among us.

Well, for some of us.

For some of us, not only was there time among us, but a baby too. Big, beautiful, sighing, gurgling, sleepy-eyed babies, shaken and stirred, to stay up past their bed times with the rest of us.

Throughout the eve the babies, were coddled, caressed, cooed, blown on, bobbed and twirled around in front of the childless, for amusement. The men especially held the fort with folded arms in makeshift swings for baby, moving around the party in total jubilation of their new pride and joy.

That’s when the disconnect happened. Seeing boys with babies instead of married couples with children. Seeing boys with accessories instead of new families. Read more