outside the box

There’s a lot of advice out there on where to go to find “like minded” individuals. Like joining a gym or a recreational sports league if you’re inclined towards fitness (not a bad idea for anyone, actually), getting into a book club, volunteering, even asking friends and acquaintances for an old-fashioned setup.

None of these are bad notions. There are few things worse than pressuring yourself into situations just on the off chance you might find someone datable in the process. Its hard to look and feel your best when you’re self-conscious or uncomfortable. And if you do find someone and hit it off, eventually you might have to ‘fess up to not being so keen on bocce or Jane Austen or pan-Asian cooking or whatever the activity was in the first place.

That being said, life can be good when you surprise yourself. Think of it as controlled risk. Do something a little out of the ordinary, and in the process, revisit your mental checklist of what your “type” includes. If you’re a junkie for novels, try a nonfiction book club. Push yourself a little by trying a new sport. Even a Saturday night in a different part of town might rev things up a bit. Allowing some flexibility in who you might meet can leave you open to the unexpected – and you might be pleasantly surprised.

A few months ago I spent an evening at a country western karaoke bar. It was the kind of place where an import or microbrew wasn’t even an option, and I’m not sure what kind of response a request for a pomegranate martini might have raised. It was domestic longnecks and maybe, for the ladies, vodka n’ cran. But people sang their guts out at the mike, whether anyone was listening or not, and as a matter of fact, the listening was pretty good. It was enough to get me on my feet for a cover of the Dixie Chicks’ “Goodbye Earl” and later, a spin around the dance floor courtesy of a wannabe Nashville singer.

It was a blast. Shakespeare’s comedies have something called a “green world,” where protagonists step out of what they usually do and even, occasionally, act out of character. As a result (warning: a moral is coming!) they learn something about themselves, about the world, and usually, have some pretty tale-worthy adventures in the process. Maybe it was the Toby Keith I’d been listening to on the drive up, or having come fresh from Washington, DC’s prom/trade show/politico schmoozefest tribute to life below the Mason-Dixon line, Taste of the South, but I like to think of karaoke night at a certain bar off I-90 as my green world.

There’s something to be said for straight drinking and straight shooting (a refreshing change from the careful maneuverings of my home city) and getting outside of the box long enough to figure that out.

Escape clause

Earlier this summer I had promised myself a trip to Assateague Island National Seashore on the Atlantic coast. Growing up in a landlocked state, the ocean has always had a special fascination for me. I’d been to the island a few times as a child and loved the wild ponies and tiny deer that run rampant. As a grown up, it was the solitude that I craved.

My first attempt, over the 4th of July, was snarled due to some social engagements and unpredictable weather. But this past weekend I finally made it out there, new backpacking tent practically still in plastic and a few doubts in my mind on the wisdom of a solo trip.

There’s something about camping that shifts my perspective utterly. Suddenly, returning calls, planning strategy, writing reports are the furthest things from my mind. I’m not thinking about work. I’m not thinking about the life in the city I’d left behind mere hours ago. Instead, I’m hoping I’d find the camp site, that I’ve brought enough food, that the rain fly on my tent will live up to expectations if it suddenly pours. Worrying about hair, makeup, and hygeine go right out the door and are replaced with applying sunscreen and DEET and sleeping in my clothes. 

Suddenly everything was work, and at the same time, nothing was work. After trekking out to the site and setting up camp, I spent literally hours on the beach, watching pelicans flying low over the waves, snapping shots of wild horses as they stood motionless next to the surf, loafing on the sand and reading a paperback cover to cover. One couple who’d arrived in the backcountry via RV asked me, “Did you walk out here?” I answered yes. Their eyebrows raised.

In those 24 hours, I walked right out of my known world and into a different universe.  Reality became a moonrise over the ocean, and dolphins swimming offshore at dawn, and feeling the tide swirl and surge around my feet. It was quieting the noise of daily life and being in a different place altogether.

So what’s all this have to do with dating? Not much – but it has everything to do with living well and learning how to hit the reset button when you need it.

Know What You Want

Retroactive blogging on all the topics that have been buzzing around all these months is tempting, as is attempting to launch a platform to inspire a new generation of 21st-century Mr. Darcys. But the first – and most important – piece of advice I have to offer is this: know what you want.

It sounds so simple, so obvious. But its overlooked more often than one would think humanly possible. Its a refrain I hear time and time again. “Well, I can’t really make up my mind right now, so we’ll just see what happens.”

Usually, what happens is a lot of crossed signals, missed communications, confusion…you get the idea. Its not that I’m against casual dating or keeping things light. Its when “casual dating” runs into “looking for serious commitment” and neither one tells the other that things can get sticky.

Know Thyself

First rule of thumb. Who are you, right now? Not what you think your relationship persona is, or your ideal, down-the-road relationship. Honesty with yourself is the most important first step. If you don’t know where you are, how can you expect anyone else to?

Be realistic about how much time you have to invest in a relationship, how much initiative you’re willing to take, how much initiative you expect from the other party, whether you’re looking for something casual, or something long-term, or something in the middle.

Do you want someone to share activities with, someone who clicks with you intellectually, someone who’s great arm candy? You may even find you have a couple categories open – from a bar hopping buddy to someone who’d be great to take home for the next family get-together.

If this sounds like work, it is. But its better at the front end, and it may save one of these awkward, “It’s not you, it’s me” conversations down the road.

Hello world!

The idea for this blog came from a conversation one of my closest friends and I had over a year ago. We jokingly talked about writing a book. And the book would be called, How to Wreck it With a Girl.

If that sounds bitter, you’ll forgive us. We were both fresh out of rather bad breakups, and feeling a little punchy. And the more I thought about it, the more I felt we were on to something. Yes, the world needed to know. We had advice. We had insight. We had hilarious and unbelievable stories that needed to reach a wider audience than our gal pals, coworkers, and much put-upon platonic male friends.

And maybe, just maybe, it would help people out to get a fresh, unalloyed perspective. Learn from our mistakes. Share the adventure. And keep on keepin’ on.

Sure, there are a gazillion advice books on dating out there, and tons of online articles, etc etc. So, what makes us any different?

Well, we wear heels on Fridays, for one.