Dating Nirvana

I've been on the fringe of dozens of relationships.

I mean that literally.

Not the verge, not the precipice, but the fringe. I've been a kind of "fly on the wall" for countless friends' relationships. An amateur therapist of sorts for pals: guys, gays, and gals, alike. And it seems to me that the bottom line is this:

Relationships are hard work.

But hard work is rewarding as hell, so saying relationships are hard work shouldn't really deter anyone who doesn't expect life to be handed to them with easy to follow instructions downloadable from iTunes. Then again, with every passing generation we get ever more dependent on the ease of instant gratification. You want to get ahold of someone? They are summonable from virtually anywhere on the planet at the touch of a few buttons on a cell phone.

This world is fast paced, gimme what I want, get it where you can, flaunt it while you got it, because in about the time it takes to minimize a browser window--it's gone.

So how can we be surprised that relationships are not working--not as successful as they seemed to have been a hundred years ago? It used to be standard for people to fall in love over years of penned correspondence, for crissake. Now that tradition has been transformed--or maybe mutated is a better word. Kids are having entire junior high romances via text. A winking emoticon in first period leads to "going out" by lunch. A series of half speak, misinterpreted short hand and electronic squabbling during gym results in the termination of relationship status on facebook by dinner time.

WTF.

Maybe the issue lies in knowing just how many fish there are in the sea. If any one little thing is wrong with whomever you're with--if any fingernail of doubt digs it's way under that paint chip of happiness it doesn't take much prying to break a chunk loose.

But what if that's alright? What if at this point in human evolution we're starting to learn that the best way to raise a family is by non-traditional means, such as, friendly co-parenting. A man and a woman become pregnant, but are not themselves involved romantically--though they still have the utmost respect and appreciation for the other. They enter into a partnership of parenting where each side trades off equal responsibility and share of the child's life and development. The child has two teams of dedicated parental figures guiding, nurturing, and caring for them without animosity or hostility towards one another. Meanwhile, the parents never get overwhelmed with all the child raising responsibilities because there are two different--separate but equal--teams pinch hitting. This leaves the parents time to pursue their own interests, hobbies, careers, romances, etc when they're "on leave" from active parent duty.

I'm sure, like any scenario, this could turn sour in any number of ways--but it's an interesting idea, I think. It fits better with our ever growing selfishness as a society. Our obsession with this idea of "purity" and what's "right". Instead of considering "traditional" the standard for how to live, perhaps we should think of it more in the way we use the term vintage to describe fashion purchased at Abercrombie and Fitch.

Mystery Date

What's wrong with me?

I'm being serious now. What's amiss up in my clock tower? Why am I only interested in men who are not interested in me in return? How is it that I seek these uninterested men out without realizing, and what is it about them that draws me so inexplicably to them?

Yes, yes, I know that it's no uncommon phenomenon that people are attracted to others who are not attracted back. And that this occurs millions of times a day to everyone. That doesn't make my lack of connections any less befuddling. By the age of 29 most people have fallen in love at least once. Most people have had a serious relationship involving living with someone with whom they're romantically ensconced.

Not I, said the fly.

99% of the men I've winked at or emailed on the match have either A) sent me a polite auto response denial B) looked at my profile and not bothered to respond at all C) responded only to flake or D) responded met up once and then disappeared off the face of the earth.

Only one has panned out, and he doesn't want a relationship. We're just working on being friends.

99% of the men who hit on me from the match (or in real life for that matter) are either A) boring morons B) have nothing in common with me C) no intelligent sense of humor or D) my dad's age

Now, I can't believe that I'm so fucking full of myself that I think I'm on some level way above my league. And I'm sick of hearing the "this town is ridiculously superficial" excuse because I'm not a huge ugly fat chic. Plus, I haven't lived in this town my whole life or anything.

There can really only be one logical explanation for this extreme unluckiness in love:

Reincarnation is real, and I was Napoleon in a previous life.

D-DAyTE

Uh oh. Here is comes. The big one. THE Hallmark Holiday event of the year:
VALENTINE'S DAY.

The match.com must be sprucing up it's weekend deals because one of the sidebar headlines on my "home" page said: "It's nearly boyfriend season..."
...

Boyfriend SEASON? This gives a whole new meaning to the term, "manhunt". I suppose this 'season' they are referring to revolves around Valentine's Day. Now I know in this day in age full of forward thinkers and PC pilgrims Valentine's Day is supposedly regarded as a the day to tell EVERYONE you love that you love them. Singles and doubles alike all rejoicing in a day full of love and togetherness yada yada yada...
Bullshit.
Valentine's Day is the day when all those who are coupled can rain down their superiority over those who stand alone. It's their time to look down at us from their towers of partnership silently proclaiming, "Look at us! We found someone to put up with our crazy!" The fear of this 'couples wrath' is very real for some singles out there--men and women. I think that's why the headline "It's nearly boyfriend season..." rang so soundly the alarm bells in my head. Because as the fateful 14th day of February looms closer, the Valentine's Day scramble starts to get more and more frenzied.

In early January the pressure is nearly none. The hype of New Year's Eve debauchery is just dying down, and resolutions are the biggest lies we're telling ourselves. Then all the sudden you look up, and it's the last week of January...Stores are starting to become infected with fake holiday decorations in all shades of red. By the first week of Feburary the commercials on TV have started to pop up. Jewelry ads, candy ads, vacuum cleaner ads...then, crunch time--the week before Valentines Day. Now weekly sitcoms are gearing up for their Valentine's episodes. Sappy romantic "date movies" show up in theaters, practically unannounced. Now the 'red scare' has seeped out onto the very streets. All over town window displays, flyers, and those odd roadside signs that advertise for "Christian Singles in LA" "Jewish mixers" "Gay gatherings" "Speed Dating" etc. with just a phone number underneath, crop up on every corner. And heaven HELP you if you accidently walk by a florist. All to dig the fear of singledom on Valentine's Day deep into your soul. As if being single on Valentine's Day equals eternal solitude.

Then the day comes. Those who have vehemently sworn their indifference to the day and all it stands for are usually hit the hardest. While those who have been scouring their 'little black palm pilots' for anyone AN-E-ONE, find themselves not so bothered by the idea of having a date with a hot bath, a joint, and a box of self-bought chocolates (at least you'll get the ones you REALLY like). Then everyone goes to bed and when we all wake up it's the 15th. It's all over. Maybe you'll have a day of suffering through recounts of other people's romantic tristes, fights, sexings, and/or trips to the hospital but other than that, the day of reckoning has passed. Boyfriend season has closed.