Tag Archives: Sex and the Single Girl

The List Part 2: “The Don Juans”

“It’s not only that he doesn’t want to get married–it’s that you know all the time he’s unworthy of you.” Helen Gurley Brown Sex and the Single Girl.

I call these guys cadsbut they’re also referred to, by themselves, as “nice guys” and they’re the absolute worst kind of man.  As soon as a guy says he’s a “nice guy,” run, run as fast as you can.  Also, he will probably either wear a fedora or a bowtie.

My first encounter with a “nice guy” was Joe at Binghamton University.  I was young and naive and still into musical theater, so I thought a guy in a fedora who sang Frank Sinatra tunes to me during fire drills must be absolutely in love with me . . . until he kept trying to dry-hump me–after I pushed him away–while we were watching Lord of the Rings.  Not okay.

Musical Theater guys are the absolute worst because they’re all cads.  I just met one during auditions for Little Shop of Horrors (he was reading for Seymour, I was reading for Audrey in the scene right after “Suddenly Seymour”) who almost kissed me in front of everyone, including Ian, who was auditioning (and landed) the part of The Dentist.  You’d think that the dumb cad would have noticed that I walked in and am sitting next to this guy I keep snuggling up to, hmm, maybe we’re dating.  But I, like the bimbo I can be, assumed he understood this arrangement and offered to meet him for coffee.

We hung out a few times and had some really great conversations, but he kept trying to grab my ass even though he was sitting on the couch in the home I shared with my boyfriend.  Apparently, he couldn’t stand the Friendzone he’d voluntarily placed himself in and ditched me for some other blonde.  My pride was more wounded than anything, because I hate that kind of garbage from men.  I make my position known right up front–you have no right to act like I went and broke your little heart.

But here’s the kicker, dear readers.  I didn’t get the part (it went to a 16 year old moron who managed to not go completely flat on at least 1/64th of her notes) but on opening night, I wore my Betsey Johnson booties, a belted black tunic and leggings, and when he saw me outside, he pushed his girlfriend out of the way to get to me.  Yeah, I’m that good.

I never saw him again and I’m fine with that.  I mean, really, who needs a cad?

But in all fairness, some of them can be very sweet.  Dan’s a good example of this–Dan is a good friend and a sweetheart, but he is an utter and devoted cad.  He loves women too much, I’m afraid, to keep his hands (or his lips) off a pretty one that drifts by.  He’s not mean spirited or dishonest . . . just a silly romantic still chasing that perfect love.

The List of Men

“You probably have quite a collection (of men) yourself, if you just count them” Helen Gurley Brown, Sex and the Single Girl.

Technically, I’m not married, so I guess I fit into HGB’s definition of a single girl, which means I’d better make my list of men I could, in theory, marry (just in case).  She divides them up into several categories, and I’ll address one each day for the weekend.

The Eligibles: (Men I could marry, maybe)

Ian:  My boyfriend of 8 years.  The first thing I noticed about him when my friend Anthony introduced us was that he looked like Ewan McGregor.  Ian is funny, tender and generous.  He likes adventures, works hard and celebrates all the wonderful beauty of life.  He also loves me, which isn’t always easy to do, spoils me (he built me a fully-functioning Tom Servo puppet!) and is an amazing artist who designs our award-winning Halloween costumes every year.

Image

That’s The Man I’m Going to Marry

Mike:  Mike and I have been friends since senior year of college, almost a decade now.  Mike has good hair, a well-curved New Jersey mouth and really great eyes.   He’s funny, a straight-shooter and knows me probably better than anyone, even the parts of me that I can’t stand.  Mike is the ultimate example of “knows everything about me and loves me in spite of it.”  Also, he puts up with me talking about Walton Goggins.

Sterling:  Sterling is one if Ian’s closest friends, smart, well-spoken, nice looking.  We keep each other company and can talk for hours. The only downside is that he lives in Austin, and Austin is filled with dudes in cut-off jean shorts.

Geza: I dated Geza in high school and we’ve remained friends ever since.  He has silver eyes and jet black hair and has agreed to marry me if no one else will.

Chris: Chris was my stage manager on The Odd Couple.  He’s adorable, plays guitar and bought me Ryan Adams Heartbreaker on vinyl because he saw it in Nashville and knew I “had to have it.”  He could be, quite possibly, the sweetest person on earth.

Pete: Pete can reduce me to tears of laughter.  I knew Pete briefly in college and remembered him as being somewhere around 8′ tall.  He graduated well before I did, but we got better acquainted after my friend Eeon’s wedding.  An epic storyteller, Pete can tell the same story ten times and every time, it will have some new element to make it even more hysterical.  Pete has also signed to direct James Cameron’s Titanic 2: Dolphin Quest.

Image

Say Yes To the Dress: Day 4

Embrace the manufacturer whose clothes consistently do nice things for you.”  Helen Gurley Brown, Sex and the Single Girl.

I got into Betsey Johnson only recently in a perfect storm of rediscovering Cyndi Lauper and a TJ Maxx opening in my town.  I had two Betsey Johnson dresses in my closet that I’d all but forgotten about; one bought for me by a creepy roommate I had in Brooklyn in hopes that I would model it for him (and leave it crumpled on his floor–I did neither) and another given to me in a bag of clothes from the daughter of a friend of my F-i-L.

Image

I’ll pretty much wear anything my dollies come dressed as

I like Betsey because her clothes are fun, flirty and sophisticated and casual, a rare combo indeed.  It’s hard to find something that meets all three.  Flirty clothes are usually fun but rarely sophisticated, and sophisticated clothes are rarely casual.  I rarely give my loyalty to a designer, but as I began to acquire more and more pieces, I saw the quality, and decided that if I was going to spend money on a purse or shoes, they had better be nice ones.  When I wear my spike-heeled black and white booties (which I bought because they reminded me of shoes worn by my Monster High Dollies) I get more compliments than on anything else in my wardrobe.

Betsey DressAll my Betsey dresses are black.  My office is pretty casual, but I can’t exactly show up to in an off-the-shoulder skull-print party dress.  My favorite is a vintage piece from the 90’s that I got for $30 on ebay, with short sleeves, a drop waist and a full skirt.  I live in it during office hours in the summer, but it looks just as cute with a sweater in the middle of a New York winter.

Now if only they made Betsey Johnson dresses for Dollies . . .

“A wife, if she is loving and smart, will get her husband back every time . . . if she doesn’t get him back, it’s because she’s lazy, blind or doesn’t want him”  Helen Gurley Brown, Sex and the Single Girl (1962)

This isn’t exactly ladylike, but it’s still early enough in the project to be a little coarse:

I hate Helen Gurley Brown.

She goes on in the chapter to say that it’s perfectly fine to date married men.  Their wives are horrible and stupid, so why shouldn’t you savor their company?

But Helen never mentions the kids.

This is the part of this project where I get all confessional and weepy.  My stepdad, who helped my mom raise me for 15 years (not that I didn’t have a dad, I did, he just didn’t live in the same house as us but was and is still awesome), who fathered my extremely awesome sister Beth, cheated on my mom with a nurse he worked with.  Apparently, my mom, who is awesome and funny and smart, “wasn’t loving” enough to “keep her man,” so he had to take up with some skanky nurse who still reads Twilight and cheats on him all the time

Pictured--still too classy to date my ex-stepdad's girlfriend

Pictured–too classy to date my ex-stepdad’s girlfriend

with dudes who would make Jimmy Buffet say “Whoa there on the pencil-thin mustache.”

When he left, our family fell to pieces.  I reacted by shutting myself off from everyone except Geena Davis in Earth Girls Are Easy.   We’re only now really getting ourselves back together, but the pain is still there, every single day.  One of my parents abandoned me.   His marriage didn’t work out, whatever, neither did my mom and dad’s, and both of them raised me just fine, stayed active in my life, loved me to pieces and, with major kudos, sat through way too many terrible high school musicals.   But this guy,  who coached my softball team, who helped me move into my first dorm, who I welcomed into my life even though I already had a dad, I just wasn’t “loving” enough for him to keep around.

(Mom, Dad, I love you.  Thank you for everything.)

That shit doesn’t stop hurting, ever.  And this is the first time I’ve ever been able to write about it, four years practically to the day from when I got that phone call saying that he’d walked out.  So thanks, HGB, for making me hate you so much that I was able to finally direct that rage.