Age of Love and Rock of Love Continue to Scare Me

Yes, I know I watch too much TV, and I don't even watch decent TV (although, once in a while, I do get a kick out of The British House of Commons on C-SPAN).

Last night and the night before, I joined the rest of the lowest common denominator in tuning in to two pathetic programs, NBC's Age of Love, and VH1's Rock of Love. Both shows feature a parade of surgically-enhanced females who compete for the affection of a substandard male. In the case of Age of Love, it's a slutty and confused 30-year-old named Mark. Rock of Love stars Bret Michaels, the slutty and no-longer-relevant frontman of a 1980s hair band.

I'm not sure which show is more revolting. On Rock of Love Sunday night, women lined up for their turn to engage in phone sex with Bret, who'd been hooked up to a device which measured his arousal level (yes, it is what you're thinking).

Last night on Age, Mark enjoyed a little tongue action (filmed way too close for comfort; thank God I don't have HDTV) with a person named Amanda, directly after a snuggle with a person named Jayanna (I don't know what kind of a name that is).

It's downright gross watching this guy move from woman to woman like some kind of farm animal. I know it's "reality TV" and, therefore, mostly fake, but check the show recap. Plenty of viewers are buying it, not to mention the sorry stereotypes the show reinforces.

Great Law of Attraction Resource

When I have time, I like to listen to Summer McStravick's Flowdreaming show on Hay House Radio. Just having it on in the background makes my day go better.

During the show, Summer offers a guided meditation to help you "get into the flow" to achieve whatever it is you want in life. Check the archives for the topic that interests you (money, relationships, and so on). You can listen when it's convenient.

The Hay House stable boasts several other interesting hosts, including Dr. Wayne Dyer, Caroline Myss, and Louise Hay herself (if you haven't read Louise Hay's You Can Heal Your Life, try it. I find that I take it off my shelf and reread it about once a year.)

On Meeting Men and Getting Married

At a party for my aunt's 74th birthday yesterday, I spoke to my cousin's wife, who told me that she and my cousin run a marriage preparation class for couples at their church.

She told me two interesting things:

1. That an average of three engaged couples per session met online.

2. That an average of three couples decide not to marry after taking the class.

"It's amazing how many couples meet online these days," she said. "Most of the people coming to our classes are marrying for the first time, and they're about 35 years old."

As for the couples who end up not getting married, she maintained, "That's a good thing. Better to know now than later."

My father agrees wholeheartedly. As we rolled up to the church for my wedding, he turned to me and said, "There's still time to change your mind, you know."

I didn't, and I'm glad I didn't. But I'm also glad I had a father who encouraged me to put my well-being ahead of the deposit on a reception hall.

How Not to Let a Good Day Go Bad

Slept in this morning and woke up happy as a lark. Read a bit of Henriette Anne Klauser's Write It Down, Make It Happen, which I found while cleaning out my basement last Saturday. It's one of my favorite books on the Law of Attraction, and it was high time I read something again on the subject. I've been attracting a bit of blah lately.

I got a call this morning from a good friend, who had a small wedding ceremony in April and is now planning a reception for friends and family. She sent invitations last week for "cocktails and hors d'oeuvres" at a yacht club.

She addressed the envelopes to include children, which was fine with me. But she's already gotten one call from a woman who gave her a hard time for using the word "cocktails" on a family invitation. "Are you sure I should be bringing my kids?" she wanted to know.

And this just put me in a bad mood: Because of course the woman understood that children were welcome, and that they would probably not be forced at knifepoint to consume barrels of Harvey Wallbangers. The point of her call was to make the bride feel as though she'd done something wrong.

I loathe women like this, women who live to belittle other females and to compete with them in the pettiest contests.

From then on, the day got a bit darker, and here I am at 12:51PM trying to shake it off. And I'd better, too, because we're expected at a party this evening, and I can't show up there in my current frame of mind.

A bad mood always results in crappy circumstances.

And it's true whether you want to attract a great guy, or a job where they show you the love instead of tossing you 2% raises, or just a good time at a party.

Which means I must strap on my headphones, hit the treadmill, and shake off this ennui. Then I'll do an exercise from Henriette's book.

Men and Women Are More Alike Than We Thought

I loved Ellen Goodman's column in today's newspaper, where she discussed the recent research that puts to rest the annoying myth that women talk too much.

I once read that women utter something like twice or three times as many words as men, but my own experience refutes that statistic. Anybody who knows me and my husband, for example, can tell you the guy easily out-talks me four words to one. (And his friends aren't much better.)

I nearly died of shock after I moved in with him and got our first phone bill; I'd shared an apartment with a female friend for two whole years, and our bill consistently came in at about half of what Peter could ring up.

So, I do object to the whole 'Men are from one Earth, and Women are from Pluto' theory. Sure, there's feminine, and there's masculine, and thank God for it. But in the end, we're all human.

Interestingly, I spoke to a woman today who has a 29-year-old son she'd like to marry off, but she says he's hit that patch in life where he's just not meeting new people. She maintains that a lot of the woman he's dated just aren't in a hurry to commit, a fact she attributes to the wider range of choices women enjoy these days.

She said she'd like her son to try the online dating route but is pretty sure he'll tell her to mind her own business. She is the second person I've met recently who's told me she has a son in his twenties who wants to get married.

So much for the stereotype that men don't want to commit.

This woman also mentioned that her 42-year-old niece met and married a guy she met online. The woman's crazy about her new husband, but unfortunately, he's an officer in the army and was sent to Iraq shortly after the wedding.

If you've done any online dating, you know that meeting and entertaining a stream of new people can get expensive. Here's a cheap date idea: Go out for ice cream and a walk. It's a relatively pressure-free way to get to know someone, and it can encourage warm and happy feelings.

Another 'Family Values' Politician Revealed to Be Scum

You really had to feel for Louisiana Senator David Vitter's wife, Wendy, when she stood at his side on Tuesday, announcing she had forgiven him for visiting prostitutes. I can't imagine what it must be like to wake up every morning next to this hypocritical jackass, who not only committed adultery but paid somebody to commit it with him.

What's really galls me is that Vitter billed himself a champion of family values. I really, really resent these guys and their phony passion for the hallowed American marriage, especially when we find out they've been out banging everybody they can get their hands on.

During the Clinton/Lewinsky scandal, the upstanding Senator Vitter called the former president "morally unfit to govern."

Wendy Vitter claimed that she would not forgive Bill had she been in Hillary's shoes. "I'm more like Lorena Bobbit," she was quoted as saying.

So it killed me to watch her standing there in her animal print dress, swearing that she'd forgiven the sleazebag. I don't know how she can even look at him, let alone live with him.

Leonardo DiCaprio Is a Tall Man

Yesterday's post suggested that Leo was shorter than his ex-girlfriend, Gisele Bundchen. A sharp-eyed reader immediately wrote in to correctly me.

She's right. I'm wrong. A quick Google search revealed that Mr. DiCaprio is actually 6'1.

Please forgive the error.

I guess Leo is one of those people who doesn't "read" tall; the two women I had coffee with yesterday morning believed him to be quite tiny.

As for Colbert, I've seen him in person. HIs incredible sexiness notwithstanding, he, too, comes off as someone who could be carried around in a pocket. A Google search reveals his height to be 5 10 1/2, which I think might be a slight exaggeration.

Apparently, Stewart is 5'7.

Which means nothing as far as I'm concerned. If he were single, and I were single, I'd date him.

Short Men Are Sexy, Too

A few years ago, I knew a tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to a young Mia Farrow. Yet she rarely had a date and was known to spend more than one New Year's Eve alone, crying herself to sleep.

She seemed like a pleasant enough person, though, and so I hoped to set her up with a well-employed, fun-oriented cousin of mine. I invited them both to a party and casually introduced them. Later, I asked her what she thought.

"I would never date that guy," she said. "He's too short."

It didn't matter that he was friendly enough, decent looking, shared her religion and her passion for sports, had a great job, and lived in a desirable neighborhood. He didn't meet her height requirement.

It didn't matter that he was my cousin, either (yeah, I took the rejection a bit personally).

So that was the first and last time I introduced her to any man anywhere. You just can't help a person like that.

Apparently, she is not alone in her disdain of shorter men. One columnist claims that most women will not date fellows they deem too short due to some holdover from evolution. As far as I'm concerned, that's a lot of crap.Women who don't date shorter men aren't biologically programmed that way; they just care too much about what other people think.

You know, my husband does happen to be taller than me, but I did date a couple of diminutive fellows before I met him. When I decided I wanted to get married, my requirements for a man were that he be:

Loving
Loyal
Reliable
Successful
Fun

I didn't really care how tall he was.

Women who avoid shorter men owe it to themselves to take another look. If short guys are really so undesirable, then somebody better tell Stephen Colbert (do a Google search; both women and men call him a sex symbol) and Jon Stewart (he once dated Tawny Kitaen, the model/Whitesnake-video-hood-ornament, before eventually marrying another attractive woman).

Dating Coach Ronnie Ann Ryan, another colleague, and I had a fine time smashing the short-guys-are-unattractive myth over coffee this morning. Skyscraper Gisele Bundchen never had a problem being seen with Leonardo DiCaprio, that's for sure.

Peter once knew two guys who didn't quite make the 5'7 mark. One of them believed in his soul that his small stature rendered him deformed and hideous, and guess what, he was right. The few women managed to attract capitalized on his insecurity and took him for cash and prizes.

The other guy, who was even shorter, wasn't nearly as intelligent as the first. He called in sick to work as often as possible and, at the age of 30, remained a major aficionado of Bugs Bunny and other prepubescent TV fare.

Yet he always had a date. Despite all evidence to the contrary, he believed he had something to offer. A lot of women picked up on it. He married a pretty blue-eyed blonde with five inches on him.

When you want to meet a decent guy, go for qualities that matter. Height doesn't.

And when you find a kind, fun, successful man who's shorter than you, keep your shoes on.

Is Pole Dancing the New Feminism?

Some weeks ago, I had something to say about media reports touting pole dancing as the key to female empowerment. Last night, Stephen Colbert took on the subject, but he did it so much better.

On August 16th, the video will expire and should disappear from this space. Enjoy it until then.

Does He Like You?

I know I keep repeating myself, but it's not your job to convince some guy that you are the woman for him. It's also not your job to analyze every syllable he utters, his every facial expression, or the deep-seated cause of his compulsive knuckle cracking.

If he says he doesn't want a relationship, take him at his word. Keep moving until a braver man appears. If he wakes up one morning and finds he didn't mean it, he'll be sure to let you know.

Trust me.

VH1's 'Rock of Love'

Tonight at nine o'clock will mark the premiere of VH1's new reality series, Rock of Love, starring Poison lead singer, Bret Michaels. According to the show's website:

"Since 1986 when MTV introduced the world to the blue-eyed lead singer of Poison, women around the world have worshiped Bret Michael's as a veritable Rock God. Never out of the spotlight, Bret's career is still rocking with Poison and as a successful solo artist and the women are still lining up in hopes of a lying down with the sexy star. But the demands of life-on-the-road for the ultimate rocker have taken a toll...on his love life."

I have some questions.

1) Bret's career is still rocking? Really? In which mall?

2) Where are these women who line up in "hope of a lying down with the sexy star?"

3) What kind of an expression is "a lying down with," anyway?

"Twenty lucky ladies will get their chance for an All-Access pass to Bret Michaels' heart and to share in all his superstar lifestyle. Bret will invite twenty handpicked beautiful women to move into his rock and roll palace in the Hollywood Hills and compete for his heart. They must win over his mind and his body by proving their love for Bret, their passion for rock and their potential to be the perfect 'Rock Star Girlfriend.'"

4) What the hell is an "All-Access" pass to Brett Michaels' heart?

5) How can one can compete to share a superstar lifestyle if there is no superstar in the equation? (While Brad Pitt qualifies as a superstar, the leathery lead singer of an 80s hair band does not.)

6) Who writes VH1's web copy? Better yet, who comes up with the ideas for their shows?

7) Is 'Rock Star Girlfriend' a goal I should encourage my children to shoot for?

Gee, it's already 9:10, and I could use a good laugh. I think I'll tune in.

Dating Advice From Dianne Brill

Peter worked today, so I decided to clean out the basement.

I'm not the type of person who would ever set out to do such a thing without prodding, so Peter gently suggested that I go through my 48 boxes of books I haven't opened since we moved here four years ago, sort them, and decide which ones to keep and which to donate to the libary. I started at 9AM, didn't take a break until 2, and there's still a boatload of stuff for me clear out down there.

During this session, I came upon two interesting items.

The first was a letter from an old friend apologizing for making out with my then-boyfriend. Now, I haven't seen this girl in years, and I actually kind of miss her. The guy (obviously) turned out to be a jerk (in numerous ways), and I don't miss him at all. Never even think of him.

Her letter said that he'd led her to believe our relationship had ended, which she soon realized was a lie. After she went home to England, I told him to get lost. He resumed pursuing me ardently (some would call it stalking), but by then I'd moved onto a marginally better guy.

The other interesting item I found in the basement?

It was Dianne Brill's how-to book, Boobs, Boys, and High Heels or How to Get Dressed In Just Under Six Hours. In case you don't know Dianne (she's on the right in the 1986 photo with Ozzy Osbourne and Janis Savitt), she became known as Queen of the Night in the 80s due to her constant presence on the NYC club scene. I liken her to a benevolent Paris Hilton without the destructive tendencies.

I hadn't thought about her for years until I happened upon her book. Then I did a search and found her website. Apparently, she's selling her own line of makeup these days.

Boobs, Boys, and High Heels sparkles with Ms. Brill's wit and wisdom. Here's one highlight:

"The bad date does not exist. Believe me, I've been on all kinds, and I've discovered that all are love experiments, learning experiences (even if what you learn is what you don't want), and good dating practice. I've survived a lot of dates a lot of you babes probably dread."

The joker who made out with my friend certainly qualifies as a learning experience. In retrospect, I'd call him less a love experiment than a science experiment. What a doofus!

Single and Loving It!

At one point in my disastrous dating career, I made a vow to stop going out with men altogether until I met a guy worth my time. I concentrated on my friends and my career, traveled, and generally enjoyed life until my husband showed up.

And, even then, I wasn't too enthusiastic about dating him. When he asked me out for the following Saturday, I answered, "How about Wednesday?"

To this day, he teases me about that. It certainly didn't turn him off, though. If anything, it established the fact that I had a life of my own and enjoyed it (healthy men tend to be attracted to happy women with full lives).

But, hey, I figured all the guys I'd dated so far turned out to be duds (or heartbreakers), so why blow a perfectly good Saturday night with some guy I'd probably have nothing in common with? Especially when I could be out with my friends.

After all, Saturday only comes once a week.

How to Keep a Man Faithful

A lot of women ask me how they can keep a man from cheating. They believe that some magic formula must exist, but the only formula I know of is to only ever get involved with a faithful man.

Yeah, I know you've read the crap in the media that men are "hardwired" to "spread their seed," and they can't help themselves from sleeping around, but it's garbage. Talk about lowering expectations!

Men are no more hardwired to cheat than we are. Recent data shows that women today step out on their mates much more than we used to. We work outside the home, so we have ample of opportunity for something on the side. Plenty of women go for it, but it doesn't make it right.

Some people cheat.

Some people do not.

It's that simple.

Unfortunately, often when a woman learns her partner's been slipping between the sheets with another lass, she blames herself. She thinks perhaps she's not pretty, sexy, smart, interesting, or whatever enough. She believes she's failed.

Or she blames the other woman. She reasons that a guy has a biological imperative to be unfaithful, and it's the female's fault for throwing herself at him: The girl's a slut.

(It's a terrible idea to call another woman a slut, by the way. If the guy cheated on me, I'd call him a slut.)

If a guy is unfaithful to you, please take comfort in the fact that he suffers from a major character defect: cowardice. Real men end relationships before they begin new ones. A coward will probably always be a coward. Say a prayer for the next woman he gets involved with.

When a woman cheats on a man, the guy rarely blames himself. Sure, he's hurt. He's probably closed the door and cried about it, but he usually ends the relationship and moves on.

Take B, a good male friend of mine and Peter's. After he learned his longtime girlfriend had a lengthy affair with her auto mechanic, we spent a lot of time talking him through it. The man was heartbroken. (I can't imagine what the hell she was thinking; he's funny, good looking, an excellent cook and gardener, handy around the house, a whiz at finance, and, oh yeah, faithful).

He broke off the relationship immediately. He gave himself time to mourn the loss. After a couple of months, he signed up for a cooking class and the Adirondack club, where he met new new people.

Today he's happily married to a woman who loves him. As far as we know, she resists impulses to sleep with her mechanic.

Have you ever seen the movie Father of the Bride with Elizabeth Taylor and Spencer Tracy? There's a scene where Elizabeth and her fiance have just had a fight. Spencer, who plays her father, asks if it was over another woman.

Elizabeth replies something to the effect of, "No, but I wish it was. That would be something I could sink my teeth into!"

For the life of me, I don't know what she meant. Why would anybody ever want to fight for a disloyal man's affection?

What a colossal waste of time.

Bald Guys Are Sexy

While watching TV last night, I was subjected to one of those ads designed to make bald guys feel like unappealing losers that no sane woman would touch.

The ad demonstrated how bald guys could achieve never-ending joy, sex, and success by submitting to a procedure that would have them sporting a scalpful of nubs like Granny's old sweater in no time.

Then I was treated to some footage of women crawling over the formerly bald losers.

I have to say, I hate ads that make people feel inadequate (although that is the function of most advertising). In case you haven't noticed, many bald men are incredibly attractive. The fact that they can even go bald is evidence of their masculinity.

Fortunately, a lot of balding guys are beginning to get this. They're forsaking the pathetic-looking (and sympathy-inducing) plugs, drugs, and transplants and just shaving off whatever's left.

I know one great-looking balding dude who, for years, painstakingly arranged the hair he had left into a horrifying comb-over. Then, one day, the light went on and the razor came out. He looks like a million dollars (maybe ten, after inflation).

Every now and then, he lets that little wreath of hair grow in a bit too long, and I remind him, "Think Ed Harris, not Ed Asner."

Check out the hilarious BaldRUs for fun facts for bald men and the women who love them, as well as the dirt on what really goes on in some of those ridiculous "hair clubs."

The Peril of Wearing Too Much Perfume

Stayed up last night to watch Craig Ferguson, who, like Colbert and Stewart, interviews people who write books instead of, say, people like Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan who just get their pictures taken a lot.

Last night, Craig talked to an Irish guy named Ken Bruen, the author of Priest, the latest in a series about an alcoholic ex-cop from Galway. I will probably give it a whirl once I get through the stack of books on my coffee table.

Yesterday at the library I added Donald Spoto's Joan, the biography of Joan of Arc, to the stack. It will be chock full o' laughs, I'm sure. Nothing like a true story about burning a 19-year-old girl at the stake to put a smile on your face.

Good thing I'm also reading Nick Hornby's Housekeeping Vs. The Dirt to fend off utter despair (Hornby, the author of the book that became the Hugh Grant movie, About a Boy, is hilarious and gives me reason to live).

Now for my dating-- or human relations--tip of the day: The temperature here in New England hovered around 93 yesterday with the humidity coming in at about 900%.

And then, in the faintly air conditioned library where I dampened Joan's pages, a lung leadening odor wafted into my sphere, which I came to recognize as women's perfume.

Despite the implications of the seductive gatefold ads in The New York Times Magazine, bathing oneself in a powdery flowery fragrance is unattractive at any time of the year. In the choking heat of summer, it's downright repellent.

Less is more! And even less is even better!

If you must wear perfume during the summer and want to attract men and the goodwill of the general population, resist! Until sundown, anyway.

Which brings me to the subject of fragrance for men. Perhaps you've seen the ads, which promise that women will be compelled to spray themselves with whipped cream upon catching a whiff of a fellow wearing Tag Body Spray.

Even though I don't know any women who've ever succumbed to the mysterious powers of Tag, the advertising clearly works in getting guys to buy the stuff.

Every single man I know has a couple of cans in his bathroom.

Oh!

The Naked Truth About Strip Clubs

The New York Daily News ran an expose on strip clubs yesterday. I have to say it was a bit of an eye-opener, especially this quote from the Erik Langan, the CEO of Rick's Cabaret in Manhattan:

"For guys, it's male bonding, or an escape from reality," Langan said. "You want to believe this 19-year-old girl really loves you, is listening to you and maybe in another time, she could be your girlfriend. So you can spend $3,000 here and say 'Hey, I had a good time.'"

I don't know about you, but my feelings would really be hurt if my husband were out spending three grand to pretend a teenager was in love with him.

But then the sting would wear off, and I'd lose respect for him. It would be hard to press from my mind the image of him moaning about his horrible life to a stranger who couldn't care less about the poor bastard.

Here's what Raquel, a young woman who dances to finance her Mercedes, her property on Long Island, and to pay off her student loans, says about the fellows she entertains:


"Most of the time is spent listening to them talk. They talk about their marriages, they talk about work, their kids, their problems. I mean, I feel like a psychotherapist. A lot of them seem very lonely, it's pretty sad sometimes."

Pretty sad, indeed.

What about you? Do you think it's okay for attached guys to hang out with strippers?

A lot of wives and girlfriends are fine with it (or to pretend to be), but, for me, it doesn't quite mesh with "treat others as you would have them treat you" rule of happy relationships.

For some reason, I don't think my husband would appreciate me going off on a business trip, getting drunk, and jamming dollar bills into some strange man's underwear. So I when I used to go away on business, I didn't do it.

I expect no less from him.

A Masochist In Love No More

Today's New York Times Style section ran this fabulous and instructive piece by a former doormat in love. This woman dated (and put up with) the creepiest men, until she flouted the advice given to her by her father and the authors of the dating manual, The Rules.

I never read The Rules, but I did catch the pair who wrote in on Oprah a few years back. I objected to a lot of their advice, particularly that a woman should never call a man back. It's one thing to remain a bit elusive; it's another to be downright rude.

I do think (although the author of the Times piece will disagree with me) that it's better to let a guy phone first: He will usually ask for your number and say, "I'll call you." Or he'll drop you off after a first date and say, "I'll call you."

In which case, I think it's wise to see if he lives up to his word. Unfortunately, too many women choose not to take the wait-and-see approach and call, text, and email the guy to death.

And that amounts to relationship suicide.

Will an Office Romance Jeopardize Your Career?

Interesting piece with Today's Meredith Viera and Lissa Coffey.

Lessons From a Master Flirt

My friend is an amazing flirt.

Here's what she's not: Trashy, vulgar, in-your-face, or desperate. Here's what she is: Attractive, kind, and confident. She has an open and pleasant face, but after two children, she doesn't possess a figure like any of the women on NBC's fright fest, The Age of Love. She looks like a woman, not a girl.

A couple of weeks ago, she and I and a bunch of other female friends headed to a tapas bars for, well, tapas. Oh, and mojitos.

The host came over to seat us, but he refused to make eye contact. So Master Flirt made a joke (nine times out of ten, she gets people to loosen up this way), but he was resolute. He wasn't going to look at us.

At that point, I admit, I'd have given up. Hey, she tried. But the girl did not give up. Instead, in an act of sheer genius, she sidled up to the guy. She was careful not to invade his space frontally, but moved over to his side gently in a way that conveyed, "Hey, Buddy."

And guess what? He smiled at her. He smiled at her all the way over to the table.

Then the waiter came over. He, too, refused to make eye contact. So she made a comment about the weather (I'm an idiot at small talk; while I'm trying to come up with something clever to say, she blurts out something benign, and it usually works. But this guy, like the last one, was a tough customer). When that didn't achieve the desired result, she brought up the subject of the bandage on his arm.

"Hey, what happened?" she asked.

The waiter involuntarily arched his back, surprised that she even noticed. "Eh, I just scratched it pruning a tree," he said. And then he smiled. And he smiled at her for the rest of the evening.

At the school where she works, she's known as the "hot teacher," even though she doesn't own a provocative article of clothing. She's also over 40.

The woman knows how to draw people in and make them feel important.

At her house for lunch one day, I spied How to Win Friends & Influence People by Dale Carnegie in her bookcase. While I've read that book, she absolutely lives it. Winning friends and influencing people is not about manipulation; it's about making people feel good about you and, more important, themselves.

And that's what a master flirt does. Everybody just loves her for it.