Wednesday, March 31, 2010

the Real Housewives BLOW OFF: You really need to get a hobby.

Any fans of Bravo's the Real Housewives of New York City as upset as I am over Bethenny and Jill blowing off their friendship?  The show just isn't the same without my favorite partners in crime bitching about the other ladies together.  It bums me out that Bethenny got married last weekend and Jill wasn't even invited.  Now, she's besties with Ramona and Alex?  And Jill is hanging out with Kelly Besimmon?  No, no, no, no.   This isn't right at all.

Forget Israel.  Forget Palestine.  How can we make peace between our favorite artificial redhead and our favorite skinny bitch?

From what I've seen so far on this season, I'm Team Jill.  Bethenny shouldn't be the kind of girl that ditches her BFF, because she's finally met a dude.  And she shouldn't have just sent flowers when Bobby was getting treated for thyroid cancer.   Just cause she's on a career high and Bravo gave her a spin off, doesn't give her the right to blow off the people that helped her along the way.  Plus, Bethenny's "you really need to get a hobby" comment was so bitchy.   I hope my favorite tacky New Yorker's find their way back to each other soon.  It's bad enough that the Countess is no longer married to the Count, but the break up of Jethenny on top of that is more than this little reality TV addict can handle. 

I BLOW OFF Booty Calls (and texts)

Booty Calls annoy me. It’s not because I think all this casual sex in the middle of the night will bring down the foundations of Western Civilization or anything like that – I just find them rude. Someone who can’t be bothered to call you during the week, finally finds it in himself (or herself) to text you at 2am on a Friday or Saturday night to see if you are around Right Now for some sex. Also, there is the scroll factor – by 2am most drunk, horny people just want A Warm Body, so the first person that responds… Game On. But the main reason booty calls annoy me is that they don’t involve food. Yes, I enjoy food with my casual sex, thank you very much.

So I devised this technique to deal with booty calls. First of all, I turn my phone off after midnight. Second, if I get a booty call, the next day I call the guy back and oh so sweetly tell him, “I’m so glad you were thinking of me, but in the future I need dinner before and breakfast after. Thanks!” You may argue that this no longer makes it a booty call. To which I would answer, “Exactly!”

The responses would usually vary from ignoring what I said, to indignation – “You’re not my girlfriend, so you have no right to tell me what to do, blah, blah, blah.” But the best response I ever got was, “What are you doing for dinner tonight?” Guess which guy got laid?

Glossary of a BLOW OFF: The Summit

Part of speech: noun

Definition: A companion to the SOTUA, a Summit is when you and your significant other are trying to come to an agreement on difficult issues in the relationship. They usually involve the larger questions of “Are we ready to step it up a level?” “Are we on the same timeline?” “Do we have the same life goals?” It is helpful, but not necessary to hold the summit at a neutral location.

Summits are excruciating because they are fraught with risk. Complete honesty is a necessity, which may, at any moment reveal an unbridgeable difference. A breakdown in negotiations and a rethinking of the entire relationship ensues. For example, if you want kids and he doesn’t (or vice/versa) – you have a problem. A big one. No matter how much fun you have, how great your chemistry is, how much you connect on multiple levels, etc., etc. will change that fundamental difference. And unless one person is prepared to give in, the relationship pretty much has to end. Like I said, excruciating.

On the other hand, the two parties may find there is a lot of agreement, and small changes just need to be made around the edges. I think at the end of the day, you have to lay all the cards on the table and trust that the outcome will be ultimately positive – even if it doesn’t seem like it at the time. Hey, if the US and Russia can come to an agreement on arms reduction, there’s hope for the rest of us, right?

The Pre-adolescent BLOW OFF

Ah, my very first blow off. Feels like it was yesterday. But in reality, it was somewhere in the mid-80s. There was a dreamy boy who I really loved named Sean. My first love was unrequited, as Sean had no interest in me and I knew it. Sean liked this other girl named Wendy who wasn't that pretty and wasn't that smart and I just couldn't for the life of me understand what he saw in her! But, I digress. Clearly I have no lingering feelings of rejection from elementary school. This story isn't about Sean, though he was the number one object of my desire. This story is about another boy who caught my fancy. A cute and popular boy named Lenny, whose mom was a teacher at our school. His mom liked me and Lenny was always nice to me, and for reasons I can't fully recall I thought there was a chance that Lenny liked liked me. 

After school one day, a girlfriend of mine was over at my house and we decided to start calling boys. My friend was too terrified to actually call anyone, and I was way too scared to call Sean but I figured that Lenny was a perfectly good substitute. So we got his number out of our school directory and I called him. I remember exactly the rollercoaster of emotions that accompanied this event. I remember feeling superior to my friend for having the guts to call someone. I remember how smug and confident I felt when he first got on the phone. And then I remember how it all came crashing down when Lenny, realizing who was talking to said "No offense, but I don't want to talk to you." And I swear those were his exact words. They are forever etched on my psyche. And I said "OK" and we both hung up and that was the end of it.

I was embarrassed in that intense way that you can only be embarrassed between the ages of 8 and 18. The kind of my-life-is-over-and-I-can-feel-the-last-humiliated-gasp-escaping-from-my-lips-and-that's-fine-because-I-rather-die-than-live-with- this-memory embarrassment. I was not only too embarrassed to ever look at Lenny again, I was even too embarrassed to look at his mother (thank God she wasn't my teacher). But in retrospect, Lenny didn't handle the situation that badly. To my knowledge, he never told anyone about it. And he did say "no offense" which of course guaranteed that I would be offended, but I think he was being as nice as he knew how to be under the circumstances. I've gotta hand it to Lenny - he didn't pull any punches. If only every guy who had ever blown me off had the courage to be so direct about it. Lenny, wherever you are - I hope you're still telling it like it is.

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

the religious BLOW OFF

Short Jewish boys love me.  It's not just because I'm usually the only girl in the bar shorter than them, but it's also because they think I'm Jewish.   And when they find out I'm not Jewish (usually after they ask me what my name is) they make a quick getaway.   I may as well have told them I'm a hermaphrodite.   If they'd just stick around long enough, I could tell them I already have a boyfriend and that he's 6'2", but the conversation never gets past the religious blow off.

My boyfriend was raised catholic.  My family is "technically" muslim, but I was raised by atheists (or agnostics depending on the day).   If we were to have kids together, he'd like to have them baptized.  Me...not so much.  I'm amenable to it, but then I also think we should do every other baby ritual for every other religion (you know, just in case).

Two of my friends in high school that were dating eventually broke up because she was christian and he wasn't.   My friend's sister just broke up with a guy for the same reason. Another friend of mine got blown off by a guy, because he decided not being Jewish was a deal breaker.  Another close friend who practices Santeria nearly didn't marry her current husband, because he shied away from her religious beliefs.   My old co-worker met her husband on J-date.  My sister's husband is Jewish, but it didn't matter to him if his wife was Jewish too.   And now, even Tiger Woods is trying to go back to being a Buddhist to hold on to his wife.  

It's hard enough to meet cool people out there, but when it comes to trying to match religious beliefs, the pool just gets smaller.   I've even had to blow off some friendships, because I couldn't deal with the fact that my friends thought I was going to hell unless I found Jesus. Maybe we all need to be a little more open-minded or maybe it's better to let God get in the way of a love connection?   Jesus Christ, readers, what do you think?

Monday, March 29, 2010

Glossary of a BLOW OFF: Busybusybusy

Part of speech: verb

Definition: to blow someone off without saying you are blowing him/her off. You claim that you are so very busy, work/other stuff is crazy busy, and really, it’s quite overwhelming. Oh and did you mention that you are ridiculously busy? Then you hope desperately that the other person gets the hint and leaves you alone.

Usage: This guy I’m dating just busybusybusy-ed me. Bummer.
I couldn’t bear to tell him I didn’t want to see him, so I busybusybusy-ed him.

However, due to the laws of karma and social networking, an instance of busybusybusy-ing is usually accompanied by a facebook and/or twitter posting that shows the busybusybusy-er to be not so busy at all. Anger and hurt feelings usually ensue.

Maybe it’s better to be honest in the first place? Thoughts?

Sunday, March 28, 2010

The Don't Try to Trick Me Into Dating You BLOW OFF

I am sensitive to the pressure put on men in our society to make the first move. I know that it must be hard to have to feel like you must always be the initiator in romantic relationships. But that's no excuse to try to trick someone into going on a date with you.

For a time, I was a regular practitioner of yoga. I could faithfully be found, five to six mornings a week at my neighborhood yoga studio. New people came and went, but I usually recognized most, if not all of the faces in my yoga classes. One day in class I noticed a new addition. He was basically non-descript, a bit on the scrawny side. What was most notable about him was that he took off his shirt and went bare-chested throughout class. This was a bit of a pet peeve of mine, but I let it slide. A couple of days later he's back in class, shirtless, and this time late. And while there was plenty of room in the back of the class, he came and put his mat next to mine in the front row, causing me and the person next to me to shift ours to make room for him. This is another pet peeve of mine.

A couple of days later, the same thing happens again. He is late, shirtless, and insists on setting his mat next to mine. By now he's introduced himself to me. His name is Dan. OK Dan, whatever. Wear a shirt and come to class on time, OK? I've also noticed that Dan has taken to staring at me throughout class. This makes me very uncomfortable and Dan might have seen it on my face, because he very craftily comments "I'm sorry I keep looking at you. But you're so good and I'm so bad and I like to watch you to see how it's done. " Call it my yoga ego, or my general like of flattery, but this softens me a bit to Shirtless Dan. And while my guard is down, he asks me if I live in the neighborhood. Yes, I tell him. I don't tell him where and he doesn't ask, but unfortunately he catches up with me on my walk home and strikes up a conversation. He lives down the block, and for once I am cursing the fact that I do, too. "Oh, we're neighbors!" Shirtless Dan proclaims. "We should go get a cup of coffee sometime."  

Now, this is very, very crafty of Shirtless Dan. How could I turn down my neighbor and fellow yoga student for a harmless cup of coffee? It's not like he asked me to dinner or anything. So I reluctantly say "Yeah, sure." Now this is a huge pet peeve - the stealth date attack. He proceeds to ask me for my phone number. I tell him I don't have anything to write with, suspecting he doesn't have a phone on him, so I think I'm off the hook. But he replies "It's OK, just tell it to me and I'll remember it." So I tell him, hoping he won't actually remember. But wouldn't you know it - he remembers. He remembers and calls me the following day leaving a long, rambling, and above all presumptuous message in which he tells me that he has a day off coming up and rambles on about all the things we can do together on his day off. What the downward dog? Shirtless Dan was clearly a crazy person, and the coffee suggestion was obviously a ruse.

There were so many things I wanted to say to him - what in the hell makes you think I would want to spend an entire day with you? And what makes you think I'm going to make myself available on your day off? And what are you smoking to make you think that I am even remotely interested in you to begin with??? I was just horrified, and then angry, because now I have to see him at yoga? At my sanctuary? I'm the regular, he's the newbie! I don't need this stress!

I don't return Dan's call. And I switch my usual class schedule to take an earlier class than the one he had been attending. About a week goes by and then one day the receptionist at the studio tells me someone left something for me. It was a note from Shirtless Dan, with his phone number and his email address. He instantly goes from being Shirtless to Clueless. But at least I now have his email, and I decide that will be the blow off format. So I send him an email that basically says I got his message, and that when I agreed to have coffee with him, it was as a friendly, neighborly gesture. However, I now see that he was actually looking for more and that I was not interested. Straightforward, right? Clueless Dan responds to say that we can still get coffee as friends. I don't reply, and eventually I venture back to my usual class. It takes a few weeks of dreading seeing him for the memory of Clueless Dan to fade. I never saw him in class again. Maybe he wasn't so Clueless after all.

Though I never saw him again, I did hear from him one last time. It was many months later, and I get an email from him with a blank subject line that says in its entirety: "I still think you're beautiful". There wasn't even a period on the end of the sentence (this is actually another peeve - you're in such a hurry you can't punctuate? Give me a break!)! It was so creepy and it made me feel like he was potentially stalking me, but blessedly that was years ago and I never heard from Shirtless/Clueless/Creepy Dan again. And lesson learned about being neighborly - there's always at least one creepy guy in the neighborhood. When you see him, just nod and keep on walking.

the sometimes it really isn't you BLOW OFF

Hi! So I'm a new contributor and this is my very first blog post EVER. First, I want to say thanks to saaara for giving me this opportunity to share my breakup/relationship stories. Fortunately for this blog I have a lot of them! And second, I hope I am able to make everyone feel a bit better about navigating the dangerous waters of dating - or at least be able to laugh about it! Now, without further ado... the sometimes it really isn't you BLOW OFF.

I think one of the worst aspects of being blown off is the embarrassment factor. You feel like such an idiot for even believing something could happen with that person in the first place. And if you've shared your excitement with friends/family, it just compounds the embarrassment - exponentially. Then, if you're anything like me (my melodrama level goes to 11), it quickly spirals down into the dark pit of despair - I must have some FATAL flaw that will keep me alone and single for the rest of my life. I will be 85 and living with my 20 cats, which sucks even more because I'm allergic to cats...

However, despite what some books like He's Just Not That Into You proclaim, sometimes it really isn't about you at all. I was dating this guy, "Mark" and we had an amazing connection. It got hot and heavy pretty quickly and people around me remarked that I was "glowing." Which was interesting as I was not getting a lot of sleep at the time. As things seemed to be going very well, I invited him to a friend's birthday party. On the night of the party, I was doing a script reading, so we agreed to just meet at the bar around 9pm. I arrive at the bar, so excited to introduce my fabulous new man to all of my friends. At 9:30, he's stil not there. I call and leave a message. 10pm, 10:30pm, still no Mark. I call several times. 11pm. 11:30pm. Okay, now I'm worried. Maybe he got in a car accident and is lying dead by the side of the road (melodrama meter steadily rising). Several phone calls with no answer and a half an hour later, I decide to go over to his place. At least if he's dead, his roommates should know, right?

I buzz his apartment and his roommate answers. I ask for Mark and the roommate yells out, "Mark, some girl for you." Um, some girl?!? Really? And Mark's been home - this entire time?!? I ask him why he blew me off. He answers that "he forgot." I mention the multiple phone calls. He says he never got them. Um right. Worse still, he is totally unapologetic. I think he even mentioned something using the words, "It's no big deal." Oh, and did I mention that when the melodrama hits 11, the temper shows up? There is a reason why I do A LOT of yoga. Anyhow, the temper arrived and I yelled back at him (through the intercom!) that he was a big jerk and I never wanted to see him again. Ever. Then I stormed off, went home, cried myself to sleep, and seriously contemplated dating women.

About three months later, Mark shows up on my doorstep. Before I can say anything, he launches into a long apology about that awful night three months ago. He said his ex-girlfriend (who had broken his heart a year earlier) showed up on his doorstep begging forgiveness and he didn't know what to do. Worse still, this ex-girlfriend lived in Arizona, so he couldn't just tell her to go home and they'd talk about it later. He said it didn't end up working out with her and would really love to try things again with me. However, I was already dating the man who would become my husband, and then my ex-husband, and then my non-ex husband (all blog posts for another day), so I politely and graciously declined. But I did feel a sense of vindication, that in this instance, it really had NOTHING do with me.

Friday, March 26, 2010

the BLOW OFF song of the day: Say My Name by Destiny's Child

"Say my name, say my name.  If no one is around you, say 'baby, I love you' If you ain't runnin' game.
-Destiny's Child, 1999 

(Hold up.  This song is eleven years old already?!)

In case you're wondering who the 4th member in the video is, that's Farrah Franklin.  She was in the group for five months before they blew her off.  

Thursday, March 25, 2010

The "Marriage Benefit Imbalance" or BLOWING OFF the M word

An excerpt from Elizabeth Gilbert's book Committed.  (P.S. after reading this, I'm thinking prop 8 is even more of a joke.  What we really need is a proposition that overturns heterosexual marriages):

"Married men live longer than single men;...married men accumulate more wealth than single men; married men are far less likely to die a violent death than single men; married men suffer less from alcoholism, drug addiction, and depression than do single men."

NOW according to the same book, when it comes to women marrying men:

"Married women are not as successful in their careers as single women.  Married women are arguably less healthy than single women.  Married women, until recently, were more likely to die a violent death than single women --- usually, at the hands of their own husbands. "

Thus, "Women generally lose in the exchange of marriage vows, while men win big."

Then WTF are men known for being commitment-phobes instead of women?  Dudes, it's a win-win for you.  If only the words "let's be like Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins and never get married" still rang true.  Goldie and Kurt, don't screw it up.  

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

the mutual BLOW OFF

Once every hundred years or so, a break up happens between two people who amicably agree they should no longer be together.  When their family and friends ask what happened, who hurt who, who said "uncle" first, they smile and reply "it was mutual."  

*COUGH* bull shit*COUGH*

Really?  Does the mutual blow off really exist?  Isn't there always one person that wants to try a little harder to make things work, but gives in b/c it's so clear their other half can barely stand to look at them?  None of my break ups have been mutual, unless circumstances (like moving to another part of the country) got in the way.  And even then, I think one person may have been willing to try an LDR, but was too afraid to admit it (not me).   My six month blow off was basically mutual, but only b/c I wore the poor guy down enough by continuously telling him I didn't see myself falling in love with him.  Ever.  This might be the case for a lot of mutual break ups: one person makes up their mind to end it, but instead of pulling the rug out from under their sig other, they're a total asshole until their sig other does the blowing off for them.

Has anyone out there ever truly had a mutual break up?  Are you sure?  Are you positive? Prove it in the comments section below. 

Monday, March 22, 2010

Pop Culture BLOW OFF of the day: Elaine!!!!!!

Before there was The Breakfast Club or Garden State, there was The Graduate...quite possibly the best coming of age movie ever made.   If you haven't seen it, stop reading, hit your head against the wall five times, and log onto Netflix asap.

The best part of the classic ending below (aside from the zooms and extreme close ups) is watching the expression on Elaine and Benjamin's faces go from "yay, I heart you" to "WTF did we just do?"  

Plus, there are so many BLOW OFFS here.  Elaine blowing off her WASP-y groom, Benjamin blowing off Mrs. Robinson, Elaine blowing off her parents, the two of them blowing off the establishment.   But don't take my word for it, watch the link my bitches.

Glossary of a BLOW OFF: The Roto

The Roto
Function: noun
Short for: the rotation
Origin: since my little brother used it in a sentence

1. Dating multiple people at the same time until you decide who you're most interested in.  
("I think I'm going to blow her off, because I've got three other girls in the roto that are hotter.")

I've had a few "when it rains, it pours" moments in my dating history, but I'm sad to say, I've never had my very own Roto. So, readers-- have you ever dated more than one person at the same time to figure out who was really worth your time?

Friday, March 19, 2010

the Best Actress BLOW OFF?

It's all over the blogosphere...if you win an Oscar for Best Actress, your relationship is totally fucked.  Thank Jesus I was the weakest link in my Young A.C.T. acting classes and quit that shit when I was fifteen.  Although, the same year Sofia Coppola won the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay, she and Spike Jonze filed for divorce.  (That's gonna really put a damper on writing my masterpiece.)

So, maybe what the Oscar curse really means is that women are capable of happy and solid relationships, unless they have the misfortune of being more successful than their significant others?  This totally bites.  Especially since female breadwinners and stay at home dads are becoming more common.  If the scales are tipped for good, will the world end up with a bunch of uber successful single chiquitas and a bunch of emasculated men?

Let's hope there are dudes out there that can deal with us Type A females and won't stick it in the next stripper who makes them feel like hot shit.  I for one was really bummed out to hear that Jesse James cheated on Sandra Bullock and many of my facebook friends teased me about it.  I know, I know, I shouldn't be surprised when a guy is unfaithful, especially if he has tattoos and used to be married to a porn star.  Sigh.  I guess the ambitious female in me really wanted to believe that a woman's career peak doesn't have to be followed by a romance low. I feel bad that Sandra's loving acceptance speeches are gonna come back to haunt her.  It's humiliating.  

But if this is the outcome that societies forced on us, then I offer this solution to the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts & Sciences: start making Oscars that vibrate.  

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

the Inadvertent Email BLOW OFF

I love email.  It's convenient and fast, and more importantly, it's the perfect way to avoid telling people how you really feel face to face.   With a click of the send button, even the socially awkward can flirt or blow someone off with ease.  Sure, it's all fun and games until an email gets in the wrong hands thanks to the evil FORWARD option.  A few years ago, I learned that the hard way.

It all started when I forced myself to go to a volunteer meeting for the new McSweeney's store that was going to open in Brooklyn.  I didn't feel like interacting with new people at all, but I was single and lonely, and I knew I needed to "put myself out there."  So, I went.  There was a cute boy in attendance that I was immediately taken with (he def fit in my "type matrix"). Somehow, I found out that he liked Bob Dylan, so I opened a Yahoo email account with tangledupinblue as the user name.  Totally pathetic, I know, but I figured it would be the perfect conversation starter once volunteer emails circulated (and for the record, I did like Bob Dylan).   Listen up ladies, it worked like a charm.  Soon, he was lending me Bob Dylan CDs, we were going out for drinks, and exchanging witty and thoughtful emails.

Then, one night, the unthinkable happened.  I realized I didn't like him like that.  I don't know what changed-- at that point, I didn't even know if he was interested in me.  I just knew if I wanted to stay friends with him, I'd have to tell him sooner or later that my feelings were platonic (or start excessively using the word "buddy" every time we were together.)   Turned out, I never had to give him that speech.

After getting a funny and witty email from him, I made the mistake of forwarding it to one of my good friends with a message like "cute email from ________.  I wish I liked him."  For those of you that have yahoo accounts, you know that forwarded messages are sent in the form of an attachment, so that means when the recipient hits reply, they actually reply to the person who sent the original message, not the person who forwarded it.  So, my friend replied to my forward and said something in the vein of "this guy is totally in love with you, but I can totally see why you think he's pretentious.   Poor thing, he totally wants to be marry you and be a Saedi (my last name) son in law"  except she sent it to him, not me.

My poor friend called me totally frantic after she realized what she'd done.  It was an honest mistake and even though I was mortified, I couldn't be mad at her.   I could have easily done the same thing.   I immediately emailed the boy and pulled a mea culpa.  First, I confessed to being dorky enough to forward his email to my friend in the first place, but then I also had to admit that while I didn't want to be presumptuous,  I wasn't interested in dating him.   He couldn't have been nicer about the whole thing, but the email from my friend definitely forced the "are we dating or are we just friends?" issue.

Monday, March 15, 2010

SAF: Blowin' Off My Type Matrix

My customers often ask me, "Why are you single?" It's an obnoxious question, but I admit it deserves some consideration. I'm smart and charming. I can also be funny when prompted. But I've been single for a really long time! Is nearly five years a long time? Yes, Kayoko. Yes it is.

Then, I thought about it: maybe it's my TYPE.

Over burritos one night, my girlfriend and I put my theory to the test. I drew a matrix, lining up the boys I've dated down the rows, and named common traits (however superficial) along the columns.

This is what I've come up with for the last five guys I've been with, starting with my last serious relationship:

Isn't this crazy? The cat's out of the bag: I have a type. Tattooed, socially awkward, glasses-wearing, internetz-obsessed, artist-musician-writer types seem to win me over EVERY EFFING TIME.

But then I thought... what about me?? I couldn't just blame it on these boys I have been with, this so-called type. Self-reflection took over me: WHY do I fall for boys like this?

Answer: because this is ME.

Glasses. Writer. Internetz-overly-obsessed. And yes, I can be awkward. I checked off everything except for "tattoo" and "mommy and daddy issues" (which I don't think I have, cross my heart).

The clouds parted and bright fluorescent lights poured down over me. Could it be true? Have I been dating myself for the last several years?? Is this the most narcissistic, vain thing you've ever heard of? Yes, it is.

Now, let's dig deeper. Out of these five lovely gentlemen, I was blown off, in one form or another, by four of them. One being the Magical Blow Off, and another being a dude who ended up getting back together with his exgf. And MARRYING HER. "It's not you," they always say, "it's me."

[Well, fuck you. Oh, and your sleeve is fucking cheesy and I'm sorry you have to live with a picture of a giant deer on your arm for the rest of your life. Love, Bitter Betty.]

All this to say that I'm changing it up. I can't keep living this conundrum of a life forever! 30 is right around the corner like the Smoke Monster, waiting to grab hold and pull me into its darkness. Yes, it's time to blow off this Type Matrix of mine.

This means no more tattoos, glasses or facial hair. No one who can't hang with my friends without me having to hold their hand through it. Extra credit if I can't find you on Facebook or Twitter.

For my birthday next month, I'm gifting myself some contacts. And a Freudian psychoanalyst.

Kayoko tends bar in the Bay Area, CA. Find out what she's eating and drinking on her food site, Umamimart.

RIP: Sam Mendes and Kate Winslet

Another Hollywood BLOW OFF....Another PR statement:

"The split is entirely amicable and is by mutual agreement. Both parties are fully committed to the future joint parenting of their children."

BLOW OFF song of the day: Just a Friend by Biz Markie

"Oh baby, you, you got what I need, but you say he's just a friend, but you say he's just a friend."

-Biz Markie, 1989

Friday, March 12, 2010

Blow Off By Proxy, #2

They'd been fighting a lot lately and the weekend camping trip with his friends seemed to be the beginning of the end. We all knew Jen was about to break up with Donnie.

Jen was (and continues to be) my best friend. So obviously, I was on her side. But I liked Donnie. Over the course of their long distance relationship, we'd become friends. He'd drive into town on the weekends and stay in our tiny dorm room. He didn't hog the remote or mind if I tagged along to the movies. He was sweet and funny, but as hard as they tried, he and Jen just didn't fit.

A couple of days before she actually pulled the plug, Donnie called while Jen was out. Several of our friends were hanging out in our room and after I'd chatted with him a little longer than usual, I said, "Hang on, Lori wants to say hi," and I passed her the phone.

Whether Donnie knew it or not, he was a boyfriend with a rapidly approaching expiration date. And that date would mean the end of our friendships with him too. This was a few years before Facebook insured you'd be connected to even casual acquaintances (provided your friend doesn't insist you de-friend her ex). So we passed the phone around the room, each saying goodbye.

And we never spoke to him again. Because he died. Just kidding. At least I think I'm kidding. I really never heard from him again, so I assume he's alive. Actually he's probably on Facebook. Now if only I could remember his last name...

the "I should have just made out with her" BLOW OFF

The one downside to having a blog called the blow off is having friends remind you of blow offs you'd completely blocked out.   Yesterday, I was gchatting with my friend Shawn from grade school, college, and beyond who is also an avid reader of the blow off (one of our five male readers in fact) and he took it upon himself to remind me of the time I tried to kiss his friend and got totally DENIED.

His friend (we'll call him Ben) was the love of my life in second grade.  My best friend and I both had our sights set on him and even invented a secret language to express our affection (I-I loo-loo blah= I love Ben).  Flash forward to 12 years later.  I'm in college at Cal and run into my old friend Shawn who is living with Ben who I haven't seen since he left our grade school in 4th grade.   Somehow through mutual friends, we all end up at a dance or semi-formal for Cal's athletes, even though none of us played sports.   Shawn reminded me yesterday that I had too much to drink at the party and while dancing with Ben, I either told him I wanted to kiss him or did try to kiss him.  (Author's note:  Back when i was single and would have a few too many, I had a bad habit of telling guys I wanted to kiss them.)  Shawn and I couldn't remember how it all went down, so he decided to go straight to the source.  Ben.   Here's how their conversation went (clearly, I have no shame when it comes to this blog):

"Ben": there is no story man
  you probably have a better one in your head
  I don't even really remember it
 Shawn: dude
  i dont
  come on
3:21 PM did she try and kiss you or did she do it?
  i mean did she ask or did she do it or did you kiss or not
  you have to remember that
 "Ben": I really don't
  I think she just asked if she could kiss me
3:22 PM Shawn: and you did what
 "Ben": didn't kiss her
  I probably stammered off some dumb excuse
  I should have just made out with her
  what an idiot

How embarrassing. So, readers--- tell the truth, have you ever just made out with someone, because it was easier than rejecting them? or do you blow off responsibly?

Thursday, March 11, 2010

Pop Culture BLOW OFF of the day: No calls, No crying.

Since I'm in a New York state of mind and it's March, it's time for our monthly Sex and the City shout out.  Holy Manolo Blahnick, Batman!  Boys, close your eyes and plug your ears.

Inspired by the Blow Me Off Twice, Shame on Me post, here's a clip of Miranda and Carrie getting into their first "big" fight after Carrie admits to Miranda that she's meeting Mr. Big for lunch (this show is just one pun after another).   Anyway, Miranda's reaction is priceless.  I think we've all been on both sides of this argument.  

Take a look, readers and tell us if you're team Carrie or team Miranda in this clip?  

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Blow me off once, shame on you. Blow me off twice, shame on me.

The only thing worse than getting blown off once?  Getting blown off twice by the same person. It can happen to the best of us.  You're madly in love with a person, they break your heart, and you try to move on.  It could be days, weeks, months, or years later when they worm their way back into your life and promise things will be different this time.  So, what do you do?  You tell yourself rejecting them would actually be taking the easy way out.  That love is all about taking risks and that you'd rather get your heart broken then wonder "what if" for the rest of your life. That maybe this time, things really would be different.   When your friends warn you you're making a mistake, you secretly tell yourself that you'll no longer let them in on the ups and downs of the relationship, and that if you get hurt again, you won't cry on anyone's shoulder.

We're all for second chances at the Blow Off, but how often do they really pan out?   In my own dating history, I've given two different guys second chances and both fucked it up.   I probably would have granted a few other guys another shot, but they just never asked for one.

One guy was a friend of my college roommate.  He wasn't the kind of guy that could stop traffic, but he was the first boy that ever made me feel HOT.  Plus, we had banter.  Not only did he get my sarcasm, but he could combat it with witty responses.   I was so taken with him that after months of severe sexual tension, I broke up with my high school boyfriend to date him.   I even made him a hemp necklace.  And then he pretty much freaked out, left school a quarter early, and disappeared.  Three years later came the resurrection.  This time, he had a girlfriend, but swore he was going to break up with her and that we would finally get a chance to be together. He didn't and we didn't.  I was so mad at myself for not learning my lesson and told him never to contact me again.  Another three years went by and he looked me up in New York.  We met up and he called me "bitter" when I wouldn't make out with him.   He was right if "bitter" meant being in love with someone else.

So, readers--- have you given anyone multiple chances before?   Did it work out?  Or did you have to get your heart stitched up all over again?  

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

The Stand By Your Man BLOW OFF

My two favorite things about Tiger Woods and Mark Sanford's cringe-worthy press conferences was the fact that there was no tight lipped wife standing behind them.   For once, the strength of a woman wasn't represented by her quiet stance a few feet away from her pitiful husband. Instead it was represented by her absence.

New Rule: the term stand by your man does not apply to sex with prostitutes, sex with other men, sex with Las Vegas cocktail waitresses and porn stars, sex with your Argentinean soul mate, sex with your baby mama videographer when your wife has cancer, oral sex with an intern in the oval office, or sex with a girl in a Utah hotel room who later accuses you of rape.   Stand by your man in many instances is total bull shit.    That's right, Tammy Wynette, you heard me.

Maybe I'm naive and maybe too much raging feminist will scare off our five male readers, but I'm sick of all the media images of supportive wives and girlfriends.   At fifteen, I remember being really confused when Elizabeth Hurley walked the red carpet with Hugh Grant just days after he'd been caught getting a BJ from a hooker.  Ugh, and what about when Rihanna and Chris Brown had their Miami escapade just weeks after he'd beat the shit out of her?

I'm not in a place to judge any of these women, after all, it's the guys that are to blame.   Elin will probably take Tiger back and a lot of other women might do the same thing for the father of their children.   But it is refreshing that Jenny Sanford didn't make that decision.  I hope she sells a lot of books, makes a lot of money, and meets a guy that gives great head. 

Friday, March 5, 2010

The Long Distance BLOW OFF

I'm en route to NY as I type this (props to Virgin America for wireless internet!)  and got to reflecting on my old LAX to JFK trips to visit my Brooklyn boyfriend.  It's hard to believe we survived a year of living on two different coasts.  

Chances are most of us have taken the LDR risk at one point or another.  In the beginning, there's something uber romantic about loving someone so much, that you're willing to put up with lengthy airport security lines and limited leg room just to spend a week with them.   That said, there seems to be a sentiment that LDR's don't work and that couples shouldn't bother to attempt them, but according to statistics, couples that live in close proximity with each other are just as likely to break up.   Apparently, the emotional connection in a relationship actually outweighs the physical connection.  

Especially with the growth of technology (email, facebook, Skype, etc) it can be a whole lot easier to stay connected to a person even if they're thousands of miles away.   And it's becoming more common for married couples to suffer through long distance relationships due to career commitments.  So, do long distance relationships get a bad rap for no reason?   Do we brush them off as impossible, purely because it gives us a convenient excuse to blow someone off?  

My theory is LDR's are most successful when the relationship begins with distance and when the couple sets forth a game plan to eventually live in the same city .  My cousin and his girlfriend were long distance from the moment they met--- she lived in Paris, he lived in LA! After a few years of living apart, she left Paris for Dallas and they moved in together, while he attended school at Baylor.  Now, they're married and living in Los Angeles.

Another friend of mine was living in Boston when she met a guy that lived in LA.   They did the long distance thing for a couple years, got engaged, and are now married and living in Belgium.

My BF and I worked together in NY, but barely knew each other.  I moved out to LA and a few months later we crossed paths at a work function at Disney World of all places (where dreams really do come true.)  A series of emails and a couple initial visits evolved into a full blown LDR.   It was actually kind of nice to have a week long getaway and then go back to our normal lives for a few weeks in between.  The hardest part was the last day of the visit and the dreaded good bye.  But luckily, within a year, he got a job in LA, relocated to the west coast, and we've been together ever since.   I give him all the credit.  He was willing to change his whole life just to see if we had a future.  Thanks, boo!

The more complicated LDR is when the relationship starts with proximity, then circumstances force the distance.  When you're used to seeing someone all the time, it can be a shock to the system to wait weeks or months to see each other.  A friend of mine was in a serious relationship for a year, when her boyfriend got into a graduate program in Italy.  They decided to stay together, but eventually the distance took its toll.  The worst thing about those break ups is that you're always left to wonder if things would have turned out differently if circumstances didn't get in the way.  And sadly, there's no way to ever know.

What do you think readers?  Have you ever attempted an LDR?  Was it a success story or a total failure?  Comment below!

Best of the BLOW OFF: Well, now that song is ruined

One minute I'm an adult, driving my down Wilshire, worrying about traffic I really don't have time for, and then with the punch of a radio pre-set button, I'm 19 again. I'm sitting on the tailgate of a pickup during a summer house party and I'm getting my heart stomped on with breathtaking swiftness.

It's the damn song. Every time I hear it, I go right back to a moment when someone I loved (but let's be honest, didn't really trust) confirmed my fears and told me that I meant nothing. Playing like an ironic soundtrack to my pain was this stupid song from a stupid CD he'd gotten the day before. It blared from the inside of the truck we were sitting on and somewhere I could hear a friend belting out: "It's been a while, but I can still remember just the way you taste!"

That's right, the song that whisks me back to my most painful blow off is "It's Been a While" by Staind. Even more embarrassing, I listen to it every time. I'm not sure why. My dad has no qualms about changing the station every time he hears a particular Simon and Garfunkel song that reminds him of a break up years before he even met my mother.

Once my brother groaned when I popped David Gray's White Ladder into the CD player. He told me it reminded him, not of his own break up, but of mine. Apparently I spent one Christmas break home from college wandering around the house in my pajamas, listening to that album and generally acting like the before moments in an ad for antidepressants. I laughed when he reminded me. Though I'm sorry I ruined it for him, I just think of it as an album I listened to a lot that year.

So what's your song? What diddies serves as your own personal DeLorean to heartbreaks past?

Thursday, March 4, 2010

The Happily Ever After BLOW OFF

I may be totally late to the party, but I just got wind today of a photographer named Dina Goldstein and her series of work called "Fallen Princesses."  

Dina's photographs debunk the myth of the fairy tale ending where the "The 'happily ever after' is replaced with a realistic outcome and addresses current issues."  

These photographs are so hot.  They're haunting and poignant and even though most of us have enough baggage to know that fairy tales don't exist, it's striking to see a dark side to the Disney Princesses we grew up on.    

Perhaps the "fairy tale" and our romanticized notions of love are just making us miserable and lonely in the end.   If we all let go of our happily ever after expectations, maybe we'd suffer and/or commit a lot less blow offs.   What do you think, readers?   Do you still believe in fairy tales or is love a lot more complicated than that?  

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

The Essential Blow Off Box Set: The Magnetic Field's 69 Love Songs

Last night, myself and hundreds of hipsters were lucky enough to see The Magnetic Fields play at the Wilshire EBell Theater (Thanks AC for getting the tix!).  During the show, I was reminded of St. Clare's music post.  How could I forget about The Magnetic Fields and their three CD box set 69 Love Songs?!

I first heard them when I was living in Berkeley in 2001.  A time when mix tapes were still all the rage and Ipods were yet to be invented.  My friend Genevieve (who could win a Grammy for best mix tape compilations) was the person who introduced me to them.  Stephin Merrit's voice was so low and deep, that I was convinced the batteries in my walkman were dying.  

Here's just a little sample of 69 love songs....the essential box set to surviving or committing a blow off.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Blowing Off the Bachelor

Forgive me father for I have sinned:  Last night, I watched The Bachelor.  Okay, so I really only watched the last half hour of the finale and the entire After the Final Rose, and I never really followed this season, until I found out I shared some mutual friends with Ali (the new Bachelorette!), but I did watch enough to know that Jake's final two girls were Tenley (the madonna) and Vienna (the whore).  I didn't have as much hate on for Vienna than the rest of America, but that's probably because I wasn't a regular viewer.   Although, I did bitch out loud to myself during the show that she was pretty busted (oxymoron, what up!).  Yes, this was shallow, but I was after all watching The Bachelor (and seriously, Vienna, if you're reading this--- stop with the bad hair extensions!!)  

The most annoying part of this show is how everything anyone says is weirdly cryptic and vague.   They should seriously use subtitles:

Jake tells Tenley the physical chemistry is not there.  Translation: Vienna gives better BJ's.

Tenley tells Jake during After the Final Rose that she didn't think it was fair for him to purpose to Vienna if he also felt passionate about Tenley.  Translation:  You shouldn't propose to one girl the day after fucking another girl.

Anyway, I digress.  My beef isn't with Vienna or Tenley.  My beef is with Jake.  Season after season, The Bachelor gives us one DUD after another.  Jake was a total snooze/douche bag with no personality.  Same goes for every other bachelor, except maybe Bob Guinney who was just annoying.   I realize most cool, funny, smart, and good looking guys wouldn't agree to do The Bachelor, but can't they at least try to find someone semi-witty?   The guy was such a bore.  

It's actually kind of shocking that this show is on TV in the year 2010.   There's something very 1950s about women that are dying to get married and have babies.   Where is the feminist outrage???  Female readers, if you want to make a difference, stop watching The Bachelor and start watching The Bachelorette (which doesn't rate as well, but gives the power back to us ladies.  Plus, I have high hopes for Ali).   Then, once we cross the cancellation of The Bachelor off our lists, we can tackle healthcare reform.   You with me?  

Monday, March 1, 2010

Sex with an Ex: Yay or Nay?

One of the hardest things about a break up is the realization that you will never ever be physical with that person again.  Even if you're the one ending the relationship, it can be a hard thing to wrap your brain around.  Suddenly, the person that's seen you naked won't even hold your hand in public.  The best you'll get out of them ever again is an awkward hug or a fist bump.  

Reminiscing about the last time you had sex with a person you really cared about can suck. Which is why I always thought people should have one more romp for old time's sake, just to see how much more effort you'll put in knowing it's the last impression you're gonna leave on a person.

Maybe the lack of goodbye sex is the reason a lot of people end up sleeping with an ex after a break up.  I've had physical "altercations" with exes a few times.  The first time was with my high school boyfriend who dumped me my sophomore year in college (to be fair, I dumped him first my freshman year).  On Valentine's Day he showed up at my dorm room with chocolate and flowers and begged me to take him back (sucker!)  I turned him down, but I made out with him. My bruised ego from getting dumped was now healed.  

The second time was with an older guy in college who I dumped my high school boyfriend for, only to get blown off by college guy once there was the prospect of things getting serious.   Older college guy paid me a visit my senior year and one thing led to another.  I was lonely and he was there and it was comfortable.   And yes, he had a girlfriend at the time, but that's a shameful post of its own.   

My last sex with an ex incident happened a few years back when I was living in NY and visiting my sister in SF.   I had dinner with an ex-bf that I still had feelings for, but who I knew had a girlfriend.  At dinner, I learned he was newly single.  At the bar, he started getting touchy feely, back at his place I ended up spending the night.  That was one of those "i can't believe this is happening" hook ups.  I was over the moon, especially when I learned he was moving to NY the next month.   I thought the stars were aligned, this was finally our chance to be together, I really did mean something to him, blah blah blah.   He moved to NY and told me he just wanted to be friends.  Weeks later, my good friend was devastated over a break up with a serious boyfriend so she consoled herself by sleeping with the boyfriend she had before him.  That's when it dawned on me, the ex sex I had in San Francisco which to me was a sign that we were meant to be, was from his point of view nothing more than consolation sex .  He was lonely, I was there, and it was comfortable.  

Sex with an ex is at times necessary closure, but based on my own experiences, I wish it came with a warning label: temporary euphoria followed by feelings of guilt, emptiness, and serious regression.  Side effects include, but are not limited to, low self esteem, binge eating and drinking, facebook stalking, and listening to Against All Odds by Phil Collins on repeat.

You've been warned, readers.  You've been warned.