Perfect Date Movie (for guys)

One of my guy friends thinks that horror movies are the perfect date flick. His strategy? "She gets so grossed out or scared that she cuddles up to you and begs you to turn the movie off. Then you have your way with her!"

Men can be so devious!

When looks can kill a date

Once I was three hours late for a date--but my potential suitor was more miffed that I don't look like my photograph than the fact that he stood outside all afternoon shivering in the fog.

Face it, looks matter in the online dating scene. A lot. Too much, I think. (Did I mention that you were a lot smaller and shorter than I expected? That your hairstyle was kind of conservative for my taste? Did that make me disappointed? No, but your crestfallen facial expression sure did. It was obvious that SOMETHING WAS WRONG.) Ooops, I guess I should have postponed this one until the my acne facial peel recovered. Ooops, I guess I should have blowdried my hair instead of appearing with it in its natural curly state.

But ooops-- dont' you think that you're idea, arriving just after running the Bay to Breakers race was a bad idea. (You did warn me you'd be "a little bit sweaty.")

Being thought of as a good looking woman most of my adult life, it's difficult for me to accept the idea that I get rejected on the basis of my looks so often when I meet someone in the personals. (I'm quite attractive. An online date fell flat...but the very next day a man asked me for my number in Whole Foods Market while I was standing next to the bananas.)

No, I think there's just something warped about meeting someone online. It warps the expectation meter.

There was one man who hit on me constantly at a dance event. A few months later we stumbled on each other in the personals so we went out, and it fell flat.

He said: "I'm not feeling any chemistry." What? You were trying to put your hands all over me when you met me "out there". But then we do the standard, uptight internet date and it just whithers and dies. There's just something downright toxic about Internet dates.

The expectation level is ridiculous. Why does every man think he "deserves" a 10? Why do they all think they "deserve" a woman ten years younger? One man met me in a date and the first said: "Your hair isn't red! You lied!"

Looking good in a photograph is not the same thing as looking good in real life. As an image-creator, as a person who meets and mingles with and works with people in the public eye, we know this is true. At first, when I saw some celebrities I've met...oh my God. Some of them looked so shockingly, horrifyingly different than their glam airbrushed photographs. But over time, as their wit and personality and verve and life emerged...those frumpy middle aged women with the cavernous wrinkles and those middle aged paunchy men with the bags under their eyes became sexy and vital and attractive. Because beauty and vitality really come from within...from our confidence and our personality. And that vitality can vary greatly from day to day, depending on our moods, the weather, what we're doing, where we are and who we're with.

I've met some stunningly attractive men from these ads...but that didn't make the sparks fly. It all comes from within. It's ineffable. Indefinable. You can't put your finger on it but you know it's there...when it's there.

Unfortunately, I happen to be photogenic--but variably attractive (that is, sometimes I look great, sometimes horrible. I'm not consistently gorgeous from day to day and I know it). I have great photographs...all taken during those peak moments when I was in love, my hair was having a good day, on the beach, on vacation. Well of course I look better in that light than I will when I've been sitting in traffic for two hours rushing to get to a date, or I've been working all day, or we're feeling lonely and rejected. Rush hour isn't usually a Kodak moment.

Is that too much to ask? Do I have to be THE LOVE OF THIS GUYS LIFE to spend some time hiking and driving to the country and having some fun? Do we have to be lonely just because we're not perfect? If we all lowered our standards we'd be a lot happier -- and these websites would be out of business.

So I have a new dating rule -- no coffee dates. No sweaty hikes. I am only going to meet men in situations where I can dress nicely, where the room is intimate, where it's appropriate for me to wear a miniskirt and heels, where the mood is relaxed, where chemistry might have a chance to spark. The only successful Internet dates I've had (success being measured by the first date leading to a second and then a third) were drinks in a quiet bar, or intimate dinners, at night, wine served. The hit and run 25 minute job interview style coffee date has a dismal track record.

Learning how to be in your body

Yesterday I spent the day at the "Embodied Community Day." I know that sounds (groan) sooooo Californian.

The invitation promised: a day that is "fun, juicy, inexpensive and open to everyone who'd like to find out what’s possible when grounded, empowered, open-hearted people come together." There would be an "enliven your body playshop, where we would learn new ways to express your essence through movement, dance, yoga and touch and deepen our emotional connections. Then an Empowered Intimacy workshop led by Scott Longwell promising "new skills and new ways of being that will enable you to be connected, free, and empowered in romantic relationships, at work, and in Community." All capped off with an Intimacy Lounge of "Sultry Dance and Sacred Chilling."

I was introduced to this group a week ago when I attended one Whole Body's free David Deida video screenings. It was an interesting concept -- workshop leader Scott screened the Deida film to the group and then lead exercises from the video, or exercises that took a riff on Deida's renowned teachings on sacred intimacy and we experienced them first hand.

I have heard so much about Deida lately (maybe I'm just the last one on my block -- he's written ten bestselling books) and wandered into the seminar to learn what all the hype is about. I came away from the evening feeling a better sense of what it means to be a woman, to be fully present in my body and my femininity and how creating that presence and openness makes me significantly more attractive and available to the right kind of men.

I was impressed with this group of people. First of all, they were definitely far healther and more attractive than average -- very centered in their bodies, physical and fit. An uncommon number of them seem to be acrobats, contact improv dancers or yogis, and they exude a confident, self-assured presence.

At first the room seemed to be filled with people younger than me, but later I learned that most of the participants were in their mid-30s to late 40s and simply looked a lot younger than their actual age. The ages ranged up to a man in his 70s.

It was raining here in the Bay Area so I decided, hey, why not -- and made the long drive south to the light, airy white loft in a run down block of Oakland where Whole Body Wisdom has it's events. A girl named Jamie Love with a sparkly heart painted on her cheek greeted me, and I deposited my shoes in the heap at the door, and padded across the patchwork of thick oriental rugs and sat on a cushion in the packed room.

As I arrived, the group was concluding the playshop where they were doing acroyoga and contact improvisational dance exercises.

Then workshop leader Scott was moving into the Deida-inspired intimacy sessions.

Scott said: "Remember a time when you weren't fully empowered." He's sitting on a futon in front of the group, flanked by a thin, athletic man in his late 40s and a beautiful younger woman with waist length blonde hair who strokes his hand as he speaks and "holds space." She beams radiantly as if just being in this man's presence is energizing for her, though I have to wonder if it's just an ego trip for him to have the loveliest girl in the room practically sitting in his lap as he lectures.

Scott has a confident, self-satisfied air about him, and a big enigmatic cheshire grin. He's a big man with a powerful build and a shiny shaved head. He reminds me of a New Age Mr. Clean, here to clean up our karma and scrub our inhibitions away. He tapes our answers to that question with a small silver electronic device that beeps on and off.

"The thing that we think is ugliest about us...when we share it, it's no longer hidden, and that in turn makes us more attractive," Scott says. One woman in the room says her weakness is rescuing drug addicted men who end up living in her house and taking her money. An attractive silver-haired elderly woman says her fear is that her body will never make love again. In turn, we confess to strangers, our deepest weakness. When it is my turn, I say: "My pattern is that I get in relationships with fixer upper men -- and buy fixer upper houses." The room giggles nervously.

"A lot of us choose a relationship based on the question: "Do I feel safe?" he says. "Choosing someone weaker than us makes us feel more powerful, but it's a lie. We want to be in control so we hire someone not as smart as us." Scott, who formerly was a management consultant in the corporate world, and still exudes this confident executive power over a room, says: "It takes a lot of confidence to hire experts who are smarter than you in areas where you are weak. In love, and work, you want someone with different skills, but more powerful."

Scott then confesses to us that he was picked on as a child, and very relf-conscious as a young man because he was bigger than everyone else. In confessing this secret to us, he did become more human, more real, and in turn, more attractive. (Perhaps this is why we like to learn the relationship woes of celebrities and relish in the marital distress of stars. It makes them more human, vulnerable and thus even more attractive to us.)

Scott points out a sign on the wall: "Often others see us more clearly than we see ourselves. Our deepest gift is often underneath our biggest fear."

We then moved into an exercise where we were asked a question by a partner and then in turn, had to answer the question first as if we were coming from our head, then as if we were centered in our heart, and finally, as if we were one big genital. "Come on, answer this one as if you're one big dick or one big juicy yoni," Scott joked. The room roared with laughter as put our whole bodies into answering that question. My partner was a thin, nervous guy who seemed forever stuck in his head, and I instantly "got" how that when we respond to a sexual need with an intellectual response we're not able to communicate effectively to our partners and then just come across as wimpy and unattractive. (I found myself totally turned off by his rigid, almost robotic responses.)

Later that night, we moved into the sacred chillspace -- which by the end of the night had steamy windows and was starting to look more like a high school dance, with couples making out in the shadowy corners of the room on floor cushions. A beautiful man taught me how to do contact Salsa dance (a variation on Contact Improvisation, which is depicted in the photograph above.)

I've been opening myself and my heart more to intimate energetic connection with others, and now that I am less self conscious and defensive I'm surprisingly a much better dancer. I was able to feel my partner's energy and sense what direction he wanted to lead me. Instead of stepping all over his feet, I was flowing, utterly in the moment of what we were doing. I suddenly understood why dance is the ultimate seduction, and the best way to feel out a potential partner for compatibility. Somewhere along the line we've become too intellectual and too centered in our heads and thus unable to listen to our hearts. I guess the Whole Body Workshop was at it's core about learning how to return to this kind of playful presence when we interact with each other.

The community playground that Scott creates promises the "opportunity to be playfully serious and seriously playful, an expansion of your ability to be open, loving and powerful in the face of real world challenges." I think one could be cynical and say that's all just a bunch of West Coast new age double speak, and there were a few newcomers to the event who uncomfortably admitted they felt that way about it, but in the end, I'd say his words just about sum it up. By the end of the night, I felt more alive and present in my body than I have in a long time, and less self conscious about my inadequacies.

To learn more about Whole Body Wisdom and the Church of Soul, visit: www.wholebodywisdom.com

Save the Internet

Freedom of the press belongs to anyone who owns one. With the Internet, we are no longer passively watching the media, we're actively making it. We're no longer just consumers, we're producers. Unfortunately, the big telecom companies don't want us to continue this freedom free for all and have a plan to choke our access by making their "approved" sites load faster than those that are disapproved.

What Can You Do To Help Save The Internet?

* Sign the SaveTheInternet.com petition

* Call your representative today and demand that Net Neutrality be protected

* Encourage groups to please the SaveTheInternet.com Coalition

* Show your support to Internet freedom on your web site or blog. Tell your friends about this crucial issue before it's too late.

* Add SaveTheInternet.com on MySpace.com

Men on blind dates are so deceptive.

Blind Date from Hell

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Some guys will do anything to get your sympathy.

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Confessions of a former infantile, self-absorbed commitment phobe

I posted the previous essay in an edited form on Craigslist and got a deluge of mail from men who commented on it. This was the most astute comment I received:
I wanted to give you my feedback in response to your post. Up until
a year ago (43) I was definitely the guy you describe; infantile,
childified adult, self-absorbed, active-running thrill seeker, rode
(red) motorbikes like a madman, was looking for commitment-phobes
just like me and was also striving for more adventure than I could
handle.

Then, a funny thing happened. I met this woman of about 36
who was exactly the SAME as me. She subscribed to all of the
behaviors that I and (you) have listed and more. I took on the
passive pursuer role and she took the active running role. I got
emotionally attached and she became highly ambivalent.

Then I ran, again, because I could not stand to face my fears. But this time it
was totally different. I spent many nights pondering what happened,
consequently breaking down dramatically. I tried to make sense of it
all not really realizing that all along, the issues were deep within
me. I spent the last 3 months doing serious self-analysis and finally
understanding and reconciling my actions.

So, what is all this leading to? Basically, don't give up. I
learned first that I jumped in too deep, too fast with someone who
was also not emotionally available (a reflection of me), and
consequently, was terrified at having to face my own fears of
inadequacy, abandonment and infidelity.

You are echoing the feelings of our generation. Especially those who
have finally matured and are ready to face reality. I feel and have
felt exactly the way you do and now I am trying to just relax and
become more introspective.

I liked the line you wrote:

"The cul de sac and barbecue are finally not the big boring threats
they once were"

I agree....

Peace

ABin

Is cyberspace better than your place?

I was wearing a red shirt and a black mini skirt that night. I felt gorgeous. I felt alive. It was the way you were supposed to meet the love of your life--with 20 of my friends there as witnesses, surrounded by everyone I love, surrounded by people who should have known better than to invite us both there.

He was standing in the kitchen. And the moment we saw each other it was like, POOF instant recognition. Sparks. Lightning bolts. The kind of spontaneous combustion that happens two or three times in your life. My life at least.

Within hours we were on the couch, and I was crying in his arms. He felt like someone I knew already. Someone I could trust.

He later told me that the smell of me was intoxicating. He would dream of that smell.

And I thought: "Yes, this is the way. This is the way it's supposed to happen. In the real world where the pheremones are there, where all the senses are engaged and you can touch and taste and smell and see, where the attraction is obvious, where you're one degree of separation apart because you both know the same circle of people.

Yes, this was the real world, not an Internet Personal so it had to be better. It had to be right.

The next day he wrote me a long letter. He said he was really interested in getting to know me better, and that he was glad that I could trust him like that.

As we walked back to the car, a homeless man said: "You two are beautiful together."

And people always said that. You two are beautiful. You look like you are so in love. We seemed to be rolling on the same cloud. I guess I forgot that clouds eventually swell and burst and the rain comes.

I was thinking: Yes, this is the way it's supposed to be when you meet someone in the real world. This is the way you fall in love.

He was calling every day and every night. He was driving 200 miles round trip, twice a week, to see me.

By our second month together, he joked, if we kept seeing each other at this rate, within two weeks we would be living together.

And then, something changed. I can't put my finger on it, but reality intervened. And we finally learned the ugly shocking truth about each other:

We wanted the exactly the opposite things from life.

He was a hardworking single Dad in a house on a cul du sac with a lawn and a barbecue who was finally on the home stretch, looking at freedom ahead, plotting his escape -- early retirement and a freewheeling life of rediscovering the adolescence he never had. Parties, concerts, raves, drugs, a different woman every night...this was the light at the end of his frustrated, middle aged tunnel. Somehow he thought I was the perfect woman to explore the world and head off on this existential journey with.

I'd sown my oats and then some -- free and unencumbered, Lonely Planet book in hand, exploring any and everything I ever wanted to discover, nothing tying me down, no responsibilities but to myself. And I was sick of all this freedom -- I wanted to take care of someone. The cul de sac and barbecue were finally not the big boring threats they once were. I was a grown up and ready to take on some responsibility and drill some roots into the turf and nurture something beside my own self indulgence.

I was attracted to that hardworking dedicated single Dad and thinking, wow, I'd love to settle in and help him raise his kids, be the woman that his ex couldn't be.

We wanted not what each other was becoming, but what each other had been. Once this realization emerged, it was over. The cloud burst and it rained and rained.

But what if we had met online, on the Internet?

The big, nasty ugly questions:

- Do you want (more) children?

- Where do you see yourself in the next ten years?

- Are you looking for a casual short term fling or a life partner?

On the Internet, you didn't even see a man's profile before those questions were out of the way. You didn't even click. You didn't even stand a chance of accidental spontaneous combustion with someone whoose path was only crossing yours because you were just getting ready to do a u turn.

So here I am, a bit humbled. Wondering if, indeed, the Internet might be a better way.

Or if finding someone on the same path is indeed such a monumental task that we just have to keep bouncing back into cyberspace, keep clicking, keep hoping, keep that flicker of fearless irrational optimism alive in our hearts that makes love possible.