Chasing the Unattainable

Staff writer LeeAnn Yops discusses repeating patterns in dating and relationships.

Last week while I was talking to a friend, he told me that I always go after the same type of person – the unattainable. What is the unattainable, though? It’s not like I’m seeking out my Funky brand poster of Bon Jovi circa ’86 or that boy with the piercing blue eyes I eyed over a cup of WOP at a frat party 12 years ago or even my favorite married man with children. I guess it’s not so much the unattainable, but the unavailable. I’m not talking about unavailable as in celebrity crushes or people in happy marriages with offspring, but unavailable in mindset.

When I was in college I was all about the chase. As soon as a boy showed interest, I was no longer interested in them. As I’ve grown older these feelings aren’t quite the same, but they are still there in some form. These feelings are kind of like buying that skirt that’s on sale that is a size too small. You know realistically that you will probably never look that good in it, but you buy it, think about the “what if” and then it sits in your closet for way too long not being thrown out until the next time you move. I want to change this mentality, but how?

How do you break the pattern of going after the same person? You know what you like. For example, I love Peanut Butter Cap’n Crunch, but does it love me back? Nope. It just likes to add on to my fat ass. I don’t need that extra baggage. So do I try the bland, fiber cereal knowing I’ll probably just want to douse it in sugar? No, because it’s not about going after something completely different, but finding that common ground between things you can tolerate and things you want to try. Do I become an astronaut and seek a widowed vet? I’ve never dated someone like that before. I don’t know.

As much as I’d like to believe I don’t have a type, I do. My friends tell me to keep doing what I’m doing and something will eventually fall into place. Does that mean you have to make a bunch of crappy choices leading up to it? Sure, but how many is the real question. I honestly feel a part of me will always be attracted to the unavailable. The chase can be fun, but when it comes down to it I think a lot of those chases were because I was unavailable too. I’m not getting any younger. Maybe I’ll take the advice of MJ and start with that (wo)man in the mirror. He may have been talking about starving children, but I’m talking about my starving dating life. What’s more important here? If anything, I need to learn to make that change or force my friend to sing “Man in the Mirror” to himself in the mirror again. It’s very entertaining.

Thank Ya Ma’am

Staff writer LeeAnn Yops discusses how a small word can give many impressions.

I’d like to take a moment to address a dirty, hurtful, 4-letter word. When said, it makes you feel used up and makes you question yourself a lot. It shames you, berates you, teases you and worst of all ages you. That word is “ma’am.”

How is it that a word that derives from the word “madam” (which actually sounds kind of sexy in that whole stringy haired, black book, prostitution ring kind of way) sounds so mean? As cited by Dictionary.com, “ma’am” or “maam” was the colloquial shortening of “madam” which was used as a title of respect, especially when addressing female royalty. I do not feel anything close to royalty when the cashier at Kmart repeatedly shouts “ma’am” at me. In fact I ignore it until it’s said so much that I eventually have to realize that they are talking to me. Sure the years of binge drinking and late nights have aged me a bit, but in no way am I a ma’am. I’ve actually repeatedly been told I look younger than I am. I’ll stick with the latter.

I think we should lay the term “ma’am” to rest. Maybe we should follow suit with Al Bundy and bring back the group NO MA’AM (National Organization of Men against Amazonian Masterhood). Sure his group was an anti-feminist group that existed so that men could still have bowling nights without their nagging wives, but I think he was onto something. Instead of taking away guys night out, I say we take a stand and form NO MA’AM (Nation Organization of Mademoiselles against Moth-Eaten Maxims). I am not a ma’am and you are not a ma’am. Now who’s with me? We will have monthly meetings where we read old issues of YM (Young Miss), prank boys and shop at Contempo Casuals or maybe Forever 21. Please recite the following and stand up for the greater good: only a Miss can be a thang. NO MA’AM!

Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot


This week, staff writer LeeAnn Yops gives us a humorous post for upcoming New Years Eve.

2013 is a hop, skip and a jump away and with that comes the dreaded New Years Eve plans. NYE isn’t really anything special for me, yet I feel like I’m too young and too single to stay home eating pizza-flavored Combos while I wait for a frozen pizza to bake.

Simply put: New Years Eve sucks. It sucks so much that there was a crappy movie made about it with 9,000 characters that you couldn’t keep straight. It’s expensive, there’s too much hype and it’s a commitment I’m not ready to make.

As a very single lady, I could go a couple of ways with NYE plans.

Stay in, drink 5 buckets of champagne, pet my cats, watch every single “because you watched The Good Son” recommendations on Netflix, and be mad I’m not out.

Pay for a stupid bar package, have a few cocktails, enjoy my friends’ company, and be mad I paid so much money for a place that’s so crowded.

Go to a house party, have fun, be mad that the boy I like isn’t paying enough attention to me, and then get mad at myself for caring at all that the boy isn’t paying attention to me.

If these were my college years I would be daring a friend to make out with both of the boys she’s seeing and I would be dared to kiss 10 people in return. Although fun back then, that seems exhausting, plus I don’t want to get pregnant by the mouth. That’s how it happens after all.

Considering I like my friends I’m sure I’ll have fun in some way, but for now I will dread the end of 2012 while perusing the “because you watched Dinosaurs” recommendations. If I do go out, I hope the boys take a fine notice to my all shape wear dress. It is beautiful.

My Life is Watching a Lifetime Movie

Staff writer LeeAnn Yops gives us a comical post about Lifetime and the lovely bond of hormones and crappy(but entertaining) tv.

 

I’ll admit it. I’m a 31 year old, single woman who watches Lifetime, regularly and sometimes not even ironically. Admitting it is the first step. For years, Lifetime provided entertainment for a hangover. I would watch Tori Spelling as a call girl and snicker through an ibuprofen and dehydrated daze. Then something changed. I started to seek out Lifetime movies on my own and then I started watching more than one per day. It turned out that I wasn’t the only one. A friend was once late for brunch because she got caught up in a Lifetime movie. Then I said “cheerleader movie” to another friend and without missing a beat she replied, “I DVR’d ‘Fab Five: The Texas Cheerleader Scandal’ too.” It’s a common ground amongst women, kind of like menstrual synchrony. If you release enough pheromones, you won’t only bleed together; you’ll also watch crappy TV together. For the guys who are reading, congrats for making it this long and sorry for the period talk. I don’t Always do that, I’m just Play(tex)ing around.

 

Back to Lifetime, I blame my mom and sister. They didn’t watch Lifetime per se, but they used to watch the made for TV movies about babies switched at birth and cheating husbands with beds on fire. I needed to see what happened. Then when I was in high school there were made for TV movies I would watch about sorority sisters circling each other’s cellulite and sorority sisters sabotaging one another to be the lead singer of the band while wearing floral dresses with combat boots. These were really important issues. I needed to see what happened.

 

Now my Lifetime viewing goes in spurts. The beauty of On Demand is that it allows me to choose my Lifetime on my time. While watching a show about real life stories that became Lifetime movies, reruns of Dance Moms, and that show about Jennifer Love Hewitt’s boobs, I see previews for new movies with Jessie Spano and Rob Lowe (with or without a mustache). My friends and I will talk about the movies and set dates to watch them together while eating as many carbs as possible within a 2-hour timeframe. I’ll even set online dates with a friend back home where we drink wine and Facebook chat about how dumb the Lifetime movie is. Not sure if it’s the sheer absurdity that keeps us coming back or the camaraderie, either way I’ll keep watching. After all, I need to learn how to seduce a student once I become a hot teacher that was formerly involved in prostitution ring that started out as a pregnancy pact.

 

 

Throwing in the Towel

This post, brought to us by new staff writer LeeAnn Yops, discusses persistence and the need for a positive attitude in life.

After receiving yet another rejection letter from a job that I really wanted, I sit here typing with a sense of defeat. Throughout my job search, I have tried to stay optimistic and think that something will have to work out eventually. I would like to think the same of my (lack of) dating life.

The job search is a lot like dating. That’s not a new revelation, but it’s funny how much the similarities come up between the two. Just last year I thought I found the job of my dreams. They contacted me after I sent my resume and cover letter and thought that I was really special. Well, special enough for a first date of a phone interview and promise of an in-person interview. That second date/interview never happened. I was crushed. I took that initial phone call while lying on my bed as if I was a teenager talking to a cute boy. Turns out the boy who interviewed me was cute, I stalked him on the Internet to find out. Trudging through and looking for a paycheck (besides the possibility of the corner), I continued to apply elsewhere, just like I have continued to date after being disappointed by the fellers over the years.

Determining the post-interview/post-date etiquette is a tricky one. You don’t want to seem overeager, yet you want to express interest. Weighing in on a job is a little different as you would hope the company would have the decency to at least give you a tender, computer-generated no, but that’s not always the case. You sit there wondering what they didn’t like about you and if you did something differently maybe the circumstances wouldn’t be the same. The uncertainty simply blows.

It’s much easier for me to put my dating life on hold as that doesn’t pay my rent (or maybe I’m not doing it right). Honestly, I think being unsure in your career is just another excuse. It’s different if there is a lack of drive, but if the person is actively searching I don’t see it as a red flag. In fact, if you surveyed most people they would probably admit that they’re not happy with their careers. I’ve had friends who would use their distaste for their jobs as an excuse not to date saying they have to find that part of themselves first. That can be translated as insecurity. I’m insecure with my dumpy body, but I’ll still squeeze into a pair of Spanx and go on a date here and there. Heck, if it’s going well, I might even go to the bathroom and throw those Spanx in my purse. It wouldn’t be the first time.

As frustrating as it gets, you have to push yourself to keep going, both dating and job wise. Whenever I feel like I’ve hit a wall, I try to remember that it really could be worse. I might have been rejected by something I was really excited about today, but I am also not dating my childhood crush, Anthony Kiedis. I did apply for a few more jobs today and even have phone interview set up later this week. Even though this company isn’t my first choice, maybe they will surprise me. I’m not expecting my love life and professional life to be all roses as I know both will take work, but I would settle for something that I at least enjoy most of the time to feel some sense of self worth. Or I guess I’d even settle for some handholding over the pants. Whatever’s clever. Either way, I hope I get more than a computer-generated response soon.