All in Good Timing

... Florida? He lives in Florida?

This, of course, being my reaction to a Facebook-stalking session of an ex, myself pretentiously gasping out loud while dressed in sweatpants and cupping a Manhattan on a Tuesday night. The guy I'm referencing, you see, was always the snobbish type -- nothing could be taken at face value, and everything was cliche. Florida? Pft, that's reserved for two-dimensional 65-year-olds in Boca Raton, I can imagine him telling me. Snottily. Jokingly, too -- with a smile that would make it sound endearing, even. But still snotty. Like, "mucus everywhere" levels of snotty. Hence, why we're not holding hands and slurping a spaghetti noodle from opposite ends of the table under the moonlight.

And now, there he is. One big ol' pompous queen gracing the clear-water beaches of America's beacon locale of retirement. And the funny thing? I love Florida.

If I'd brought up the fantastical prospect of living there four years ago, he would have ... well, to be quite honest, I just wouldn't have brought it up. I'd have scoffed at the notion, too. Not because I felt the same way, but because I was a placating, self-conscious twat who knew zilch about what it meant to be in a relationship, date, etc. (Not to discredit everything I've blogged about during that time -- we'll pretend all of that was right on point, y'all.)

My point being that time changes people. The truth is that I wouldn't lie about that now. And apparently, he wouldn't deny it either: Florida is kind of awesome. Disney World? Hello, nostalgia! South Beach? Salutations, beach bodies of the world! Universal Studios? Fucking rad, yo. Stripped of all of his hauteur, I can't think of a single thing that would have kept me away from him. (OK, so there was a slight body odor -- but that's workable.) I could have -- gulp -- actually been with this man.

Though my whiskey burns particularly strong at the thought, I'm inclined to believe that some things really are that simple.

I know, I know: I'm not saying anything new here. Timing is everything. That's a staple of the post-break-up, friend-consoling roundtable. But it also happens to be pretty goddamn accurate. Of the handful of men I've dated, I can point to each one and, without hesitation, say that the timing of each either made them more attractive to me than they would be now or, as is possible with Florida Guy, completely doomed the relationship from the moment my foot kicked dirt up from the starting line.

Is there a moral to be found here? Yes, and no. The long and short of it, is that the odds of finding someone on a parallel timeline as you are pretty doggone slim. I'd have an easier time trying to find real jewelry on QVC. But if you can -- in your inevitable trajectory of Tuesday-night drinking and Facebook-creeping -- point to someone you've since lost touch with (and interest in), and muse to yourself if it just might have worked today, then rejoice. Pal, there's hope for you yet. But also don't kid yourself during your next date when you chalk up a bad personality to bad timing: Be whoever the hell you want to be in a relationship, and dictate your love life by the merits of character first and foremost. Timing changes circumstance, not compatibility.

Meanwhile, I'm stuck with the harsh reality that as I'm here soaking up the bitterness of my Manhattan, he's off sunbathing in the saccharine sanctitude of his Miami. In which case, Father Time's got one helluva sense of humor.

The Rules of Party Attraction

Anyone who's anyone knows the game of party-hopping on a Saturday night, and anyone with a condom in their pocket or a yearning heart has their sights set on the night's crowd, seeking the time of their life. Lights, camera, dry hump on the dancefloor: Don't let your perfectly groomed hair and snazzy clubbin' get-up go to waste.

To the dismay of single folk everywhere, making the most of a party is a multi-step process more laborious than your mind might realize as you click "Attend" to RSVP on Facebook for the shindig you've been obsessing over. Beyond the surprisingly hefty amount of time spent preparing for a party (hair, outfits, make-up, cocktail hour beforehand - the whole sixty-nine yards), the checklist of matters to take care of upon walking into a party seems almost endless: Greet your gracious host, say a brief hello to those few people you recognize ("Oh, it's simply been too long!"), check your things in, and then assimilate into the crowd to get your groove on before you're quickly branded as the loser standing alone in a corner grinding against the wall.

From there, it's a matter of sex smarts and plastering enough smiles and sultry eye glances on your face to permanently fixate your expressions in one position for the entire night.

The simple goal here? Don't look like a goober.

What I've recently come to realize, is that there's a legitimate reason why the popular phrase "catch of the day" exists in the [gay] dating world. At some point in your party experience - and it's normally very early on in your time at the party - you're going to inevitably find yourself escaping into a corner that gives you a panoramic view of the selections of the night, and you're going to scout the lake for the biggest fish, the smelliest one, the ugliest one and, if you're fortunate enough, the tasty, mouth-watering one.

And at this point, it's a matter of casting your line, and reeling it in.

As a result of some fruitful, enlightening discussion with one of my fellow party-goers, I've come to a (somewhat) life-changing realization that there are, in fact, four types of people you will encounter during your "fishing trip":

1. The guy who's just not that into you. Sadly, you will be incredibly and inexplicably attracted to this person, but their sights are set on someone else. Perhaps it's the lighting, or perhaps you just look like shit that night, but it's not going to happen - no matter how many drinks you grab for them or how many buttons you unhook down the line of your shirt. It's best to realize who this person is early on, so as to not waste valuable time on those who you don't actually stand a chance with. Get over it.

2. The second guy who's just not that into you. It shouldn't come as a surprise that there are more than one of these characters in existence at a party. If you run into this person twice in a row, your stroke of luck has probably ditched you for another party. But if you happen to casually stumble upon this person and acknowledge that they're going after another person fairly quickly, there might still be a chance for your sexual fortune.

3. The guy who's really into you, but makes you want to projectile vomit your cosmo. No, it's not a bad batch of cosmos or spoiled lime juice, it's that guy who won't stop staring at you while you're drunkenly grinding on your best friend. The easy way to tackle this, is to run to the other side of the crowd in hopes that they won't follow suit or will stumble upon a different dud stud to be infatuated with. Otherwise, you might try to hook them up yourself; or if you're suave enough, intentionally talk to them and make yourself seem about as appealing as Charlie Sheen on Twitter.

4. The guy who is "just right." OK, so it's not quite as romantic or ideal as the tale of Goldie Locks, but spotting this catch is the moment you should really whip out the net and dive it into the water. And contrary to what some might advise, "playing it safe" with this person is the absolute worst tactic you can employ. Instead of striking up conversation about what they do, talk about who they do. Instead of discussion about their day, talk about the events of the party. That doesn't mean appeasing them, per se, but do be politically affluent enough to know when you're being a kiss-ass. Just like a job interview, emphasize your skills.

As you strut your way into your next party, do try to be conscious of the four-person rule, and for the love of God, don't stand in a corner by yourself the entire night. Bring your fishing rod, and be prepared to get in the game - no matter how long you may end up waiting for a bite.

'Why so single?'

There aren't many questions I get asked by people that throw me for a loop or irritate the hell out of me, but there is one that continues to swerve into my consciousness and circulate an endless loop of question marks around my brain.

"Why are you still single?" he asks as his eyebrows curve downward with puzzlement and his eyes meet mine.

From my point-of-view, there are a million questions I could ask in response. "Why do you care?" is the first bold rebuttal that comes to mind, though even I can't tell you why my first instinct is to take offense.

My actual response could either be viewed as much kinder or much more passive aggressive, depending on how you look at things. I answer with a smile and a glance to the side, 'You're not the first person to ask that question, and you surely won't be the last.'

And while he took the hint and backed off the subject of relationship statuses, I got the sense that he assumed I was somehow repressing some deep character flaw or erecting a wall of defense against insecurity with my vague answer. As it turns out, a person's not allowed to be single without a reason.

I never cease to be amazed by the men I meet who manage to do a complete 180 on their feelings about relationships after only one date or a briefly engaging conversation. The date starts with, "Well, I'm not really looking for anything long-term," and transforms into "I'm looking for the love of my life" within a few hours of "clicking" after only a semi-decent coffee outing.

Apparently, the key to finding a partner is to lie and claim to not want one at all. Are single people really just lying to themselves to feel better about their lifestyles, or are we genuinely comfortable with our status - societal stigmas and all?

A close friend of mine, who I will refer to as "Julie" for the sake of this blog entry, has a habit of saying one thing and doing another. She will declare in conversation that she has "written off" men, and by the time we next meet, have a plethora of dating stories to divulge with the eagerness of a hyena hunting down Simba.

It's not necessarily that Julie is a hypocrite or a fragile human being, it's more that it makes the idea of 'single and fabulous' that much less legitimate to the reigning members of the world. If you're single and happy, draw a line and stay on that side until the cosmos commands otherwise. If you're a dating addict that breathes new life upon indulging in a flowing stream of encounters, stick with it and hope for the best. There's no shame in wanting love, but don't pretend that you're a Miranda when you're actually a Charlotte. (Forgive me for the Sex and the City reference - I was bound to make one eventually.)

I don't know why I'm still single, and at some point it's better to realize that it just doesn't matter. I would rather endure the awkward moment of being asked the question on a date and loftily dodge the entire conversation than bother wasting time analyzing the details of why I can't find a person that sticks. Finding a "reason" for being single is nothing more than a scapegoat for the veiled insecurities you hide behind your hardened exterior - or at least that's how any vocalized explanation is destined to be perceived.

Live and learn, single people of the world: you don't need a reason to be single, and the closer you come to embracing your own identity as a singular being, the closer you may even come to never having to face the "single question" ever again.

Questions? Comments? Want to share your own calculated response to "the single question"? Brandon Baker can be reached at brandon.baker@temple.edu

Five (Optimistic) Ways to Feel As Good As You Look

I was relatively surprised to see one bitch dedicated reader describe my most recent blog entry as being very "dark." Now, I can recognize that the topics I tackle aren't always the most uplifting, but I do try and sprinkle in some inkling of optimism at the tail end of each entry to give readers (and myself) renewed belief that success stories do exist in the world of ooey-gooey love.

But as I walked down Walnut St. with my deliciously overpriced Starbucks latte in hand, contemplating whether I really am just too cynical about dating as well as whether I should grab Chinese food before going home, I stumbled upon a sign posted on the tiny construction site near the intersection of Broad and Walnut (pictured).

I'm a firm believer in the idea that things do happen for a reason, and today my conclusion was, like an epiphany to be had in the corniest Jennifer Aniston movie, that I found myself face-to-face with this ambiguously inspiring sign (that undoubtedly had a different meaning) for a bigger reason.

When date after date goes wrong, it becomes easier to sink into disheartened delusion than optimistic perseverance. Could it be that the singles are just cynics?

After giving it some further thought, here is what I've decided I'm going to do: below is a tongue-in-cheek list of five things I might ordinarily write for a Brotherly Love blog entry. Next to them (that is, the list of things I probably would more sincerely advise), are hopeful fortune cookie-esque bits of advice with a Utopian, "it gets better" spin put on them.

Without further adieu, let's try this on for size.

1. Stop slitting your wrist to "Someone Like You." Make the choice to actively listen to feel-good music. Feeling better about yourself means choosing to not indulge in music that finds strength in sorrow. Dust off your girl-power albums from the '90s and get to listening!

2. Burn your ex's things in a ceremonial bonfire. Make peace with your demons. Break-ups can be rough, but your mood doesn't have to be. Make it a point to be civil with your new ex; don't be the crazy ex-girlfriend if you don't have to.

3. Drink away your problems until you're passed out in the bathroom of iCandy. Find a healthy way to de-stress and move forward. Some people start going to the gym to work out anxiety as well as improve their body image, and that's more than OK. Developing a less self-destructive way of relieving negative tension is a fantastic first step to improving how you are perceived by others as well as how you view yourself.

4. Think about how much better you turned out than your high school classmates. Consider how fortunate you are to have the life you do. Opt to focus on the successes of your relationships rather than the failures, and never take for granted the support system you have around you. They can be more valuable than we realize sometimes.

5. Get laid. ...Get laid.


Still not optimistic enough? Send your thoughts to brandon.baker@temple.edu