Such a Pretty Face

How exciting! Glamour‘s website references the Jezebel piece in a post called, “When Dating, Do You Let Looks Hold You Back?” One thing that stuck out is this:

[Jen] also lives in NYC, which I’m now convinced makes dating 5x harder.

As someone who also lives in New York, I have only one correction: I think it probably makes dating 10x harder. Like, fer reals. I used to think that I was so lucky to live in a city when it came to dating (and I am NOT hating on my city; I am a New-York-o-phile through and through). I just didn’t understand how people in suburbs ever met anyone, thought that if I lived anywhere other than a city I’d wither and die a hermit–and not even a hermit with cats because they make my head swell up like you ain’t never seen. (And, I’m sorry, they give me the creeps just a touch.)

But then I was in a restaurant in the Berkshires once and saw a couple on a date. And I realized: When you live in a small town, there are fewer options. But suddenly, instead of being a drawback, that seemed like a good thing. There are fewer options! So maybe when people meet and like each other enough, they, I don’t know, keep going out. Whereas in New York, there’s always the potential of something better around the corner.And if you’re online, forget about around the corner, there’s a thumbnail just below the guy you’re currently looking at who is probably the man of your dreams. And if he’s not, then hell, there’s a guy under him! I mean, my god–there are people (not me, certainly not me) who line up windows of Gilt Groupe and Ok Cupid and go shopping for fab reduced designer shoes and boys at the very same time! (Ok, me.)

Wow, was that a rant? I think I’m just wired. 14-hour workday + amazing response on Jezebel + Cookie Crisp (don’t judge) dipped in Nutella (well, whatever passes for Nutella at Whole Foods) = giddy. So.

Right. the Glamour piece. Exciting! I’m going to go prep for my inevitable sugar crash by crawling into bed and watching reruns of Family Ties (which ohmaga, Alex P. Keaton, where have you been all my life?).

Night, night.

PS: That picture? That’s my view. I wanted to give you a feel for New York. All those cars down there are filled with boys!

Here’s a pickup I blogged a while ago, from the Times Union. It’s lovely in the way a lot of the sites that picked up my essay have been, but I’m re-noting it now because it’s gotten some comments. It continues to blow my mind the way certain people view me in light of my essay. Everyone is of course entitled to his or her opinion, it’s just been kind of trippy to read that I am conceited, shallow, hypocritical or that I don’t sound fun to be with. Gah! I object! I am tremendous fun to be with!

Ok, ok, I’m digressing. Anyway, I can see where certain readers are coming from (and it’s important to say these kinds of comments are far fewer than the supportive ones, the readers who say the story resonated with them, which is of course my hope), and I’m glad people are responding regardless of what they have to say. But I thought it was kind of obvious that I am not HAPPY that I have walls up, that this is in fact something I am working on. Writing is a process that can elucidate the process we go through in life.  My guardedness does not come from a place of superiority but extreme vulnerability. (Unless the guy’s a jerk, then yes, the other thing.) I find it so baffling to have my insecurity attacked. It’s a defense mechanism, people!

Anyway, this first struck me when AOL picked up the story and more than 500 people commented on it. This Times Union item reminded me of it.

The sun is finally out. Get out there and enjoy it.

xo c.