Boondock Bride

I would say that I'm generally a romantic person. I go out of my way to set the mood for love whenever the opportunity arises. I attempt to make even the daily, mundane activities with a partner more fun, exciting, intimate, and add in affection as often as possible. My emotions are written all over my face and my friends tell me I have "HEART FOR RENT" practically tattooed on my forehead. Except that I'm not looking to rent it out. I'd like to meet someone who's interested in a lease-to-own option with a balloon buyout following the courtship. Anything to avoid foreclosure!

That being said, I know what I'm looking for in a partner and what I'm willing to offer. It's taken me a long time to say that I know who I am and what I will / will not compromise on. The bigger things in life. The important things. The stuff that really matters. Like his choice in movies.

I know that this sounds crazy but think about it: could I really be with a man who didn't laugh at Mel Brooks? Never in a million years! I'm sorry but if you don't find Spaceballs or Men In Tights to be the funniest movies of all time, I assume you have no sense of humor and I cannot date you. If you didn't practically pee your pants while watching Robin Williams: Live On Broadway, again, we have zero future. And if you don't consider anything directed by Rob Reiner in the most romantic movies ever category, just keep on moving.

I didn't think that this would be such a big deal to me until I started writing to a certain boy on okcupid. Things were going so well between us. Shooting back message after message, playing the get to know you game, firing questions at each other in the hopes of discovering those little commonalities that would become the basis for our relationship. We have similar tastes in ice cream flavors (mint chip), favorite months of the year (September / October), places we want to travel (cross country and up the West Coast), awesome comfort food (mac n cheese and pizza), and even how we prefer to spend our free time (weekend road trips.) Then I asked him what movie he'd pick if he could only watch one for the rest of his life. He answered Good Will Hunting. I'm in love already! Boston is my favorite city (besides New York...calm down!!!) and there are so many quotable lines from the film, it's just a fantastic choice all around. He asked me the same question and I said The Princess Bride. HE'S NEVER SEEN THE PRINCESS BRIDE!!!

I know what you're thinking. How can that be? Everybody and their brother knows "Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." There are even t-shirts with the Hello My Name Is... badge complete with that quote! (Thanks www.thinkgeek.com) The movie is filled with sword fighting, adventure, war, romance, comedy, a giant, four white horses and Fred Savage as a little kid. You can't ask for anything more than that! And yet my guy had never seen this 1987 masterpiece. I'm not sure I can date someone who when I say "Inconceivable!" does not automatically respond with "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

Alas, we seem to have gone our separate ways in terms of allowable time between internet messages but never fear, I always have a backup conversation going! This guy was really nice, an accountant (big surprise for me), and lived close by. We met for a quick bite to eat and started talking about the little things that make us happy. Of course, music, tv and movies are always mentioned in someone's "interests" columns and he told me that his favorite film of all time is Boondock Saints. Which, of course, I have never heard of.

He was pretty upset that I'd seen nor heard of this movie. Actually, upset is an understatement. He was angry, outraged, indignant and offended that I had never seen this movie. He told me that he couldn't date someone who'd failed to watch Boondock Saints and insisted that we head back to his house immediately to view it. He added that if I didn't LIKE the movie, we would never work out but if I did like it, there was even a sequel we could catch up on. Oh, and I could make him dinner while I was there.

My response? "And then you wake up!"

I mean, come on. Who doesn't date a person just because they've never seen your favorite movie? Oh... wait...

Copyright Kimberly Spice 2010

Cold Feet

I am not the easiest person in the world to sleep with, and by sleep, I literally mean share a bed. This is because I have the coldest feet on Earth. Something happens when I jump between the covers. I no longer have limbs attached to me. I have two blocks of ice south of my ankles and ten tiny toecicles. It's torture for anyone who dares to snuggle me and also means that the most frequent visitor to my bed is a heat pack. My father tells me that when he was little, they wrapped hot baked potatoes in tin foil to keep the foot ends of the bed warm. Then they'd eat the potatoes for breakfast. Personally, the idea of toe jam as my morning meal makes me more than a little queasy but it is a brilliant concept. Warm feet are far more desirable no matter how you get there.

The geek (Trekkie, Mets fan, virgin) and I met up one last time because I thought he deserved a fair shot. He's really quite good looking and I couldn't shake the image of his sweet face from my mind. His eyes appear as though God took a beautiful, bright, blue sky and added milk. I've never seen anything like them. He's got a great body, thin but athletic, muscular and strong. I WANTED to want him and I promise you that I gave it every last chance I could. Yet he's still terrified of me...

He made no attempt to hug me when I first arrived, nor did he make any physical contact thereafter. I noticed that he usually tries to keep a minimum of three square feet of space between us, kinda like the nuns at a Catholic school dance. If I encroached even six inches into his kinosphere, he'd back up slightly as though I was a vampire waiting to drink his blood. I can only imagine the fears going through his mind, worst case scenarios for letting me get too close. It became painfully obvious that this situation would most likely never improve and it was time to let him go for his own good.

You see, my mother recently told me that there are plenty of other fish in the sea but I've hooked this one now and am just letting him dangle. It would be cruel and unusual to leave him hanging from the pole, choking on the bait, floundering around the deck, bleeding from the gills, gasping for air. (You see where I get my flair from.) She insisted I throw him back into the ocean and let him swim away. Too much longer and he'd just float back up to the top of the water, never to recover from his wounds. There are some big fish you catch and keep. There are some fish that are simply too small and need time to grow. This one is a throwback.

Unfortunately, he told me (while visibly shaking) that he's now informed his parents that he's seeing a girl. They were so happy to hear that he was dating someone they almost threw him a party. He was so scared to tell them because no one has ever taken as much time to get to know him as I have. And now I see why. Exhibit A) He almost didn't come out to meet me for our date because his mother insisted she needed new flower boxes made for the windows on her shed and sent him to Home Depot for the wrong sized brackets twice. Then he got into a fight with the table saw, escaping with huge bruises to his chest and ribs. Handy to have around when it comes to building stuff, but spooks easily when anyone approaches his work space...including his own father! Exhibit B) He told me (without looking me in the eyes) that he really likes me. His head knows it, his heart knows it, and he's just trying to get his stomach to come around. I teased him that I was hoping to graduate from water bottle dates and get a lunch or a dinner date with him soon. He shied away and said that it most likely won't happen because he's afraid of eating in public. Excuse me? Well on top of the nervous stomach, he gets STAGE FRIGHT in restaurants. Oh, and also he doesn't like to eat anything cooked by someone he doesn't know because he might get food poisoning and die. Seriously. He's eaten at Olive Garden and Applebee's before. That's about it. He doesn't know real Italian food or real any food for that matter because he's too freaked out to eat anywhere but home. This does explain why he cooks every night but offers little hope for a dating future.

With this, I know I have to end it with him. I'm a girl who loves her food, dining out, restaurants, the entire eating together experience. While I'd love a man to cook for me at home (and I for him) I can't imagine not being able to run to the diner together at midnight or grab a slice of pizza before a movie. I love dressing up and having a delicious meal and bottle of wine at a casually elegant place, not too formal or pricey: just good. He can't offer me that. When I think about the nerdy stuff, the lack of experience, the hesitation to get close to me, the mommy issues, and the fear of food in public, it's more than I can take. I know that I get cold feet at night but it's clear to me now that he has cold feet all the time. Besides, my cold feet are only in bed and that's just one more place we'l never be together.

Copyright Kimberly Spice 2010

Have Faith

There has been much activity on my facebook page lately from women who all want to know one thing: is HE out there? Does love exist? Is there really such a thing as a good guy? The honest answer is that I don't know. But I hope so.

The point of this project when I began it was just to get myself back out there. To see who else was in the world and give them a chance. To discover what qualities about a man I can and cannot live with. I've learned a lot about myself in the process and I think that the main thing that I've discovered is that I do believe in true love. Despite all the heartbreak, despite all the bull shit, despite all evidence to the contrary, the indisputable answer for me is YES. I know that love exists. I have seen it with my own eyes. I have felt it with my heart. And I've been lucky enough to bear witness to my friends and family as they experience it first hand.

I wasn't always a bitter, jaded, divorced girl on the brink of turning 30 with no job, no boyfriend, living back at my parents' house scraping money together to repay student loans. This is a whole new level of crazy for me. In fact, sometimes I still find it hard to believe that just five years ago, I was married to a wonderful man whom I thought was in love with me, living in Europe, running off to Paris, Rome or Barcelona for the weekend. We had a beautiful home, a sunroom, six kittens and a car that drove on the wrong side of the road. He'd sing me Beatles songs to help me fall asleep at night. Each morning when he rolled out of bed, he'd flip his pillow so I could snooze on the cool side. I remember watching out the kitchen window as he mowed the tiny lawn we put all of our weekend energy into fixing up. I made sandwiches and iced tea and we ate them together while sitting on the bench he built me for our second wedding anniversary. We drove out to his friends' homes on Sundays or hosted dinner parties at our place where I attempted making a full English roast. By the way, Yorkshire pudding is extremely difficult to master if you didn't grow up eating it and / or have an aversion to cooking with cow fat. But I didn't care. I was young and in love and wanted to make the national dish of my husband's country even if it freaked me out to do it. I now know that I don't like to cook recipes that call for "drippings" of any sort.

I fell in love with my ex husband when I was 20 years old. We were married just a few weeks after my 21st birthday. It's a very different feeling now, trying to date again, to get back into the swing of new relationships or just meeting people in general. I met my ex completely by accident. You see, I was doing an internship abroad and my plane left on September 10th, 2001. (I'll let your brain wrap around that math for a minute.) Another 24 hours and I never would have left New York. I remember the last thing that my mother said to me as she walked me to the gate (because you were still allowed to do that then) was "Don't come back with a boyfriend." So I didn't. I came back with a husband. Being 20 years old meant that when I met a man, I fell in love with him in three weeks flat. Happened every time. In fact, my mother was joking when she said it because those exact same words had come out of her mouth the day she dropped me off at college and three weeks later: BAM! Boyfriend. So it was no surprise to anyone how quickly he and I courted. Six weeks later, I found myself under the Eiffel Tower at midnight next to a boy with a cute accent holding a rose he'd bought off a riverboat on the Seine. I didn't know much then (I don't know much more now) but I did know that when a boy proposes to you at midnight under the Eiffel Tower, YOU SAY YES. That's what you do!

How that cute couple in Paris became two people who could hardly stand to look at each other a few short years later still boggles my mind. How we went from "can't get enough of each other" to mere roommates is still a mystery. How we managed to stop writing love letters by air mail every single day and wound up as man and wife who never really listened to what the other was saying astounds me. How did we get there from here? How come we could never find our way back?

There are people out there who fight, gamble, drink, cheat, lie, steal, hit or in some other way abuse their spouses. I will not pretend that this was the case with us. We were supposedly trying to get pregnant for the last two years of our relationship. We left England to make a life on Long Island so that we could raise our family here and I could be closer to home. (His mother always hated me anyway. I didn't want to be anywhere near that woman.) Every month, it would turn out that I wouldn't be pregnant (again) and I remember my aunt saying to me each time "Have faith." What she meant by that was that I should just be patient and let it happen. But that's not what it equated to in my head. I literally translated "Have Faith" into my quest for a baby girl...named Faith. I wanted it so badly that I thought I could make it happen. I figured that if I threw everything I had, everything I was into our marriage, I could save it somehow and we'd have a beautiful baby together and live that happily ever after we'd been chasing for 6 years. He had a different plan.

My husband came home one day and told me that he no longer wanted children. This was a shock above shocks to me. It was the final blow among an already straw-heavy camel. His drinking too much and working too much had been a problem lately but I overlooked all of it as best I could. He neglected me at every turn and no matter how loud I cried out for attention, he ignored my pleas. But this? This got my attention. His bags were packed and out of the house in a matter of three days. I've seen him twice since, both times in court.

Many of you reading this have similar stories. Perhaps you were with someone and simply fell out of love. Perhaps you were with someone who had an addiction, or stopped noticing you, or decided they didn't want to be a parent (sadly for many, after you'd already had the child!) Perhaps you were with someone who just wasn't who you thought they were. And you broke up. And you lost faith.

But here's the kicker: You can have that faith back again. I know that your heart has been broken. I don't know how many times or how or why but I do know that it has. I know that it sucks completely and totally and this may be the hardest fight of your life. It doesn't matter how old you were when it happened. It doesn't matter how long ago it was. It doesn't matter how many days / weeks / months / years you've allowed yourself to grieve / mourn / eat pints of Ben & Jerry's. If the three greatest things are faith, hope and love (thank you cliche wedding reading) than you have to have faith. You have to be hopeful. And you have to believe in love.

I know that a lot of the dates I've been on don't seem like they're going to be the man of my dreams. I will grant you that nose picking guy isn't on my short list of possible Prince Charmings. I can see how many of you might think that I should just give up right now, join a spinster club, take knitting lessons and buy the entire series of House on dvd. I choose to carry on. In the face of all the losers, geeks, nerds, dorks, dweebs, psychos, crazies, druggies, liars, midgets, stalkers and heart breakers, I still believe that there is that needle in a haystack if only I'm patient enough to keep searching for him.

So many of you reading this are in the same position I am where you just don't know if he's out there or you're ever going to find him. So many of you are tired and want to give up and I GET THAT. I know, believe me, I understand and I'm right there with you. There are days when I want to throw in the towel. Five minutes later, I'll get an email from a reader who says that I'm so brave or I'm an inspiration or that I motivate her to go on and you know what? That's why I'm doing this. You are not alone in the world of terrible, horrible, no good, very bad dating. I'm in it too and it sucks. You know it. I know it. But that's what my aunt was saying all along. You have to have faith. Faith that it will all work out someday. Faith that there is a person out there who will love you just for you, exactly as you are right now. Faith that your dreams will come true if you believe in them hard enough. Faith that all the Disney movies we watched as young girls weren't complete lies and that he may not ride in on a white horse, but there is a man out there who's ready to sweep us off our feet if we are prepared to let him. Faith that I will be a mother to a beautiful baby girl someday and no matter what her name is, she will exist solely because I never gave up hope. Because I never gave up on love.

Copyright Kimberly Spice 2010

Revenge of the Nerd

Alright nerds, I've heard what you had to say and most of you think that I was entirely too harsh on my geeky little friend the other night. Most of the emails I've received in the past seven days are along the lines of "Dorks need love too...Give the poor Trekkie a chance." Never one to turn down an opportunity to be the bigger person, I have taken your advice and met the 32 year old virgin for a second date. See for yourself:

The day after the Mets games, I awoke to a text message that read, 'Good morning, beautiful.' Knowing that this man had never actually complimented me before, I responded 'Awww, you think I'm beautiful??? (Blushes.)' He replied, 'Of course I think you're beautiful. Hasn't anyone ever told you that you're beautiful? How do you not know that you're beautiful?'

Easy, killer. I was being facetious.

I have to drive way the hell out East on the island that night in the pouring rain. As if it being Friday at rush hour wasn't bad enough, throw in some inclement weather and you've got a recipe for disaster. By disaster, I mean that Long Island traffic is at a stand still. I call him when I get on the parkway just to chat and he manages to direct me on an alternate route where I take a few miles out of my way on a detour but manage to save about three hours of time driving rather than sitting in bumper to bumper. Who knew that dating a computer geek could come in so handy? He totally saved my ass from showing up late to work so now I owe him. Alright, fine, he gets a second chance.

When I ask if he'd like to catch up for an hour after work one night, he tells me that he doesn't consume adult beverages. I say that I know, we talked about how he doesn't drink any alcohol. I'll admit to loving a trip out to the wineries on the weekend but if that means arriving with my own designated driver, so be it! He says no, that's not entirely what he meant. Yes, it's true that he doesn't drink alcohol but he means ALL adult beverages including coffee, tea, soda, etc. So wait...what does he drink? Choices are apparently limited to water, juice, Gatorade, Capri Sun, and hot chocolate.

I know what you're thinking. I miss those little foil pouches with the lethal straws too but we're in our 30's now people (alright I'm 6 months away but it's still pretty close!) This means that we are a minimum of two generations too old to be drinking out of juice boxes. I'm sorry to break it to you. Kids today think that the 1980's are retro and cool in a way that we thought sock hops were kitsch and classic but that doesn't mean you're going to see me walking down the street in a poodle skirt or sharing an egg cream at the soda fountain anytime soon.

But I digress.

We get to Starbucks and I order a Venti (that's a large) hot chocolate with a shot of peppermint and whipped cream on top. Whoever thought up mint chocolate as a combination should be sainted. Are you listening Catholic church??? (On second thought, I kinda hope you aren't...) He orders a Tall (which is actually small) hot chocolate with no other flavors and no whipped cream. Hold the phone. You're telling me that you only drink beverages for people typically under the age of 6 and yet you're not even going to get the works? Forgive me, but I don't trust ANYONE who doesn't have their hot chocolate with whipped cream and mini marshmallows. It's unAmerican. And I'm pretty sure illegal in at least 48 states.

Alright, fine, I will TRY to stop judging men based on food and beverage consumption but it's not easy. We sit down and I swear I almost choke on my first sip because he takes off his jacket to reveal a baby blue t-shirt sporting a picture of a ship in a bottle. But it's not just any ship. It's the StarShip Enterprise. In a bottle. He tells me he bought it on www.thinkgeek.com so for those of you who are reading this thinking "Where can I get an Enterprise in a bottle t-shirt?" ... that's where! They have all sorts of apparel in the category I like to call Geek Chic. My teammate's boyfriend just bought her a shirt that says "I <3 my geek". No, the symbols don't make a heart. They're just the symbols. Which is what makes it dorky...duh!!!

Oh, and then he tells me I should probably do some shopping on there because if I ever accompany him to a geeknic, I'll want to dress the part.

Yes, I was scratching my head at that one too. A geeknic is where his friends who are all Linux system users get together for a picnic, talk computer stuff and play horseshoes. No, I could not make this shit up if I tried.

Where was I? Oh right, we had gotten started on talking about his family and his sister is getting married next weekend. He's already invited me to the wedding. I politely declined as I really do have to work (and thank goodness for it!) He told me that his sister started dating the man she's about to marry in August four years ago but he didn't meet the family until November. Point being, should this develop into a relationship, I ought not to get my hopes up about meeting anyone he's related to anytime soon. If his mother were to meet a girl he was seeing, she would immediately start planning the wedding and naming future grandchildren (hopefully not Tiberius!) He's never brought a woman home to meet his parents before. No pressure...yeah right!

My favorite part was when he hinted that I could come over when his parents were away and he'd make dinner for me which sounds incredibly sweet. But, he added, "You can't sleep over because I have a twin." Me: "Brother?" Him: "No, bed."

32 and still sleeping in a twin bed??? Yes, well apparently he could have gotten a larger bed but it wouldn't have left any room for his dvd collection which takes up massive amounts of space. "Oh, and when you come, you can see the 18" Yoda I made entirely out of Legos! It's on my headboard."

Is anyone else picturing Steve Carell right now? Cause I'm getting kinda scared.

I find that I do more listening than talking during this meeting and an hour passes by without me even realizing the time. I've got to run off to a business meeting so he walks me to my car and I notice the plate on the back of his truck says LCARS. What the hell does that mean? According to Wikipedia it stands for Library Computer Access / Retrieval System. Yet another Star Trek reference. Big surprise.

By now, dear readers, you're thinking one of two things: 1) Run away screaming and never look back! or 2) So the guy is passionate about sci-fi. Who cares?

I vacillate between agreeing with both of these sentiments and can't seem to choose either as a definitive statement. On the one hand, his dorkiness overwhelms me. On the other hand, his eyes are the same color blue as that t shirt and I find myself inexplicably drawn to him. There's some sort of nerdy magnetic forcefield pulling me in that I can't seem to ignore. My girlfriend told me that I'm not attracted to him. I'm intrigued by him. I'm like Jane Goodall watching monkeys in the wild. I want to observe nerds in their natural habitat as though on a dating safari. And while I've met my share of wild animals, geek is a whole new beast with much of his behavior waiting to be explored further. Is it possible that he not only dresses like a human occasionally but holds the capacity to act like one?

Copyright Kimberly Spice 2010

Warped Romance

I have a warped sense of romance.

Tonight I watched Zac & Miri followed directly by the last half hour of Shakespeare In Love. I'd wager that if you asked "most" people which movie was more romantic, they'd choose the latter. Obviously, Shakespeare knew what he was doing when it came to writing love stories but I'd like to throw it out there that he is followed in close second by Kevin Smith. Hear me out.

In Shakespeare In Love, Will and Viola are forbidden from seeing each other due to their place in society, the taboo of his profession, and her engagement to another man. None of their circumstances prevent them from developing feelings for one another though and despite all the obstacles in their way, the passion never subsides. Their relationship is short-lived as she is sent off to the New World with her new husband, a man whom she can barely tolerate (although I'd argue that any girl reading this now would swoon over Colin Firth himself!) Perhaps their story seems so incredibly romantic because they are so swiftly parted without Viola every knowing that Shakespeare spends most of his time divided evenly between the playhouse and the pub. She never has time to see his faults or let his annoying habits (like biting those ink-covered nails) get on her last nerve. Their love remains pure, her face un-aged, sweet memories preserved in a bubble forever, ne'er to be tainted by time or treason.

I wonder if she would have minded being married to a drunk pauper for the rest of her life, scrubbing the sweat from other women off of their marital bed as he scraped by for rent money while posing as a poet.

Then we have Zac and Miri, two friends who have been by each other's sides through thick and thin (he's thick and she's thin.) They have survived living together for many years, much of that time spent working minimum wage jobs, scrounging up whatever spare change they can find in the hopes of not getting their power turned off the night before Thanksgiving. They know every last embarrassing detail about one another, from her granny panties to his lack of ambition. It takes being apart for them to realize just how much they really do love each other and how much they hated being apart. I argue that finding someone you can stand even when the water isn't running and there's no heat in the apartment is a far better fate than a fleeting affair that ends with an urgent kiss and a sweeping exit.

You see, real love isn't like the movies and if it is, it's closer to Zac & Miri's version than to Shakespeare's. (Yes, I know that he wrote plays but I'm referring to the entertainment media in general.) While real romance exists, it happens on such rare occasions for most people that a floor picnic with takeout Chinese food passes where once only sonnets under a balcony would suffice. No one makes grand gestures anymore. We're lucky to be graced with thoughtful consideration.

Last night, my mother and I came home from a long day in the city to find that my father had put a fresh pot of coffee on and set up her mug so it was ready when she walked in the door. That's considerate. My dear friend just gave birth to triplets (God bless her) and her husband stayed by her side through the entire process, tending to her and all of their brand new babies' every need. That's considerate. My sister's husband leaves a note for her every morning saying that he already fed the dogs or washed the dishes or cleaned the snow off her car so she could sleep in a little longer. That's considerate.

My new friend today told me that her date Friday night took four phone calls from another woman during their dinner together. That's NOT considerate. My ex used to throw his dirty clothes in the vicinity of the hamper, never quite making it actually into the actual laundry basket itself. Again, NOT considerate. Then there is the story of the boy who greeted his wife when she walked in from a fourteen hour day at work by asking what she was making him for dinner. Sooooo NOT considerate.

You see, men, I don't think that you realize what woman really want from you is not necessarily romance but simple consideration. Do we love getting flowers? Of course we do. Do we appreciate when you make an effort to seduce us instead of assuming sex will happen whether or not you've showered today? Yes, we're definitely more in the mood when you don't smell particularly offensive. Do we enjoy little gifts or surprises for no reason? Absolutely. I'm not telling you to stop those things. What I'm saying is that if you ask a woman what her idea of romance is, she will likely not say making love under a waterfall. She will say that you putting the toilet seat down so she doesn't fall in during her 2 am bathroom run was romantic (aka considerate). That you making her a cup of tea, listening to her when she talks, or sending a text message that simply says 'I'm thinking about you' is the most romantic thing you could do.

In my latest poll, I asked you all to vote on the most desirable quality in a partner. Not one person said attractiveness. Sexy got a couple of votes, outnumbered by smart and funny. But considerate was the most popular answer by far. We love it when you plan a night out at a fancy restaurant with wine and chocolates, dinner and dancing. We love when you get dressed up in your good suit and take us to a Broadway show. We sincerely appreciate the rose petals on the bed and Frank Sinatra on the iPod. But the thing we want the most is just for you to notice us, make us feel special and important, treat us nicely, and let us know you care.

Dear Mr Shakespeare, I have always been a fan of your works but I believe that you may be the root of much disappointment in this world. Young girls who read your plays have a skewed vision of romance. They believe that it is all sonnets and prose and iambic pentameter. They think that men's tongues should be flowery and overflowing with poetry. These girls do not understand the way you painted life in Elizabethan England has no place in modern New York. Therefore, dear bard, I believe that were you alive to write now, your scripts would take place during the commercials of the Jets game where a man takes out the garbage without being asked for that is the most romantic...nay, considerate thing a person could do.

Copyright Kimberly Spice 2010

Double Header

I am a baseball girl. I know I've said this about a thousand times before but it's the cold, hard truth. Sure, I'll watch the SuperBowl but I'm only watching for the commercials and Drew Brees (omg, baby Brees - cutest moment in football history!!!) Frankly, I find basketball boring and hockey is a little too fast paced for me. I love that baseball balances out the extremely exciting moments with plenty of time to eat a hot pretzel. It's not a sport full of violence so girls don't get grossed out during play. The rules are fairly simple to understand. And then there are the uniforms...

But I digress.

Point of the story is that when a boy messages me about missing Shea Stadium, I (as a Mets fan) completely connect to what he's saying and we hit it off immediately. Now, I realize that I just lost half of my audience by admitting to being a Mets fan but let me say for the record that I root for BOTH New York teams when they are playing. I love the Yankees as much as the next person. It's just that I have a soft spot in my heart for the underdog, the little guy, the dark horse, in other words: the Mets.

This boy and I have comparable predicaments. We both come from families where our parents and siblings are Yankee fans and do not understand our compassion for a losing team. Why on Earth hold on to the belief that we may, possibly, one day, not totally SUCK for an entire season? Well, as Tug said, Ya Gotta Believe. That's our motto. It's gotten me through life as a Mets fan and now through post-divorce dating. I know that I may have struck out the last few (82) times at bat. But I believe that this time up is my time to shine. It's my ball game. I might head into extra innings but I'll go there with a heart open to the possibility that today, I will win!

Why am I telling you all of this baseball imitates life philosophy? Because this boy I've been messaging...it's all he talks about! Like I said, I'm cool talking about sports, at least more than most girls. But come on! I'm still a girl!!! Honestly, the Giants score from two Sundays ago does not affect my life in any way. The play-by-play of the 1987 division league, game 6, 10th inning is not in my trove of useless facts and information. Mostly because I just don't care. Is it time to go shopping now?

Which is how I know I'm in trouble when all Mets fan wants to do is talk sports. I now know his bowling league average, which Devils games he has tickets to this hockey season, and the Giants standings in the NFL but I couldn't tell you his last name, his hobbies, or what he does for a living. This is going to be one very interesting date!

The first time we talk on the phone, I discover that he (like me) is a fan of country music. If I haven't just lost the other half of my audience, you'll note that (just like the Mets fans) we are a dying breed in NYC. I am thrilled to find we have another passion in common. We talk about our favorite stars of country music, which concerts we've both attended, how many times he's gone to Nashville. I'm just about getting excited to meet him when he tells me he has to cancel the date we had planned. His mom left him a "Sonny - Do" list which I'm assuming is similar to a "Honey - Do" list those of you with husbands have hanging around.

Seriously? You can't go out with me cause mommy gave you a list of chores? Wow, dude. Grow a backbone!

Alright, I know I'm being harsh on him but sad is the plight of the grown-up child who depends on their parents for a roof over their heads. Several of us have had to return to our adolescent homes post - divorce, post - job loss, post - economic crash. I'm right there with you and I get it. But my parents have never told me I can't go out on a date because I have to clean my room or fold the laundry or vacuum. His mom made him re-shingle the roof the weekend of our rendez-vous. Ridiculous!

Attempt at dating, Round Two: he gets tickets to the Mets game from a friend in his bowling league. I'm super psyched to go but the game is three weeks away! I suggest meeting up for coffee beforehand just to get to know each other but the scheduling just never works out and we wind up after a rain out with eight hours of a double header at the ball park as our first date! Holy scariness, Batman.

I decide that we'd be better off skipping the first half of Game 1 and just meeting at the train station when he gets home from work. He almost missed the train because his mother (again with her) sent him on errands and threw a shit fit when he told her he wouldn't be home to make dinner. Talk about indentured servitude!!! I had invited him out to lunch before the game but he said that first dates make him so nervous, he'd do better not eating at all during the day for fear of anxiety plus a weak stomach acting up on him. Yeah, I've already had one guy puke on a date so I'd rather not risk a repeat of that performance!

At last, I arrive and hug him hello. He seems perfectly normal (I always say that, don't I?) We ride the train to Citifield together and in that hour, he regales me with stories from his Star Trek convention days and the time he spent in Vegas at Star Trek: The Experience. Ho. Ly. Crap. Most people go to Vegas for strippers, shows and slot machines, not to mention copious amounts of liquor. He was there on New Year's Eve and wound up as the designated driver because he doesn't drink. At all. This is a Klingon nightmare.

What is it about me that screams "Nerds wanted!!!" Honestly, every boy within a hundred mile radius who has a hard on for Dungeons & Dragons, World of Warcraft, Heroes & Villains, Star Wars, and Star Trek manages to flock to me like geeks to ComicCon. I don't know what sort of Legend of Zelda / Xena, Warrior Princess vibes I am giving off here but I don't think I can take too much more of GeekFest 2010. I'm sorry, I know that nerds need love too. But sitting at home watching MythBusters on a Friday night is not getting you laid. You're single because you say things like "I can curse in several alien languages" and "Don't worry, sometimes I dress like a human." There is no way you're getting lucky by tuning in to Futurama! I really hate to break it to the nerds, dorks and geeks of this world but a degree in computer science is not a turn on to members of the opposite sex!

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Where was I?

Oh, right, I was up to the part where my date tells me that he'd like to have children someday but he doesn't want to give them standard, boring names like his own. He'd rather name his kid something like Tiberius. For those of you non-Trekkies, Tiberius is Captain Kirk's middle name. No, seriously. Do you want your child growing up with Captain Kirk's middle name??? I wouldn't want to be that kid trying to survive kindergarten! Let alone junior high. Why don't you just send him to school with a sign on his back that says "Please flush my head down the toilet!" It's the newest form of childhood cruelty. But it doesn't stop there. He actually has a book of science fiction inspired baby names. I think I'll stick with Chris and Emily, but thanks anyway!

Once we're at the game (and the lesson in Trekkie history has ended) I am positively starving. I decide on a hot pretzel before I spot the zeppole cart. If you aren't Italian and / or don't live in New York and / or don't have a street fair near you, you just might be missing out on some of the best food ever invented. First of all, there's dough. Second, the dough gets fried. Finally, the hot, fried dough is doused in powdered sugar. Can you think of a more delicious creation? Sure, they're golf-ball sized heart attacks in a bag. But that's half the fun of eating them! The other half is trying not to choke on the powdered sugar as you inhale your dessert. Lesson: Never breathe in while eating zeppoles. Never.

Alas, I sit with my pretzel and we enjoy the end of the first game. By "enjoy" I mean that we cheer for a losing team who was winning until their relief pitcher gave up the lead. Big surprise. When we get up again to walk around the stadium, he points out all the cool moments in Mets history, the retired numbers, the players' jerseys, the remnants left of Shea. We grab a couple of bottled waters and head back to our seats for the second game. When Ike Davis gets up to bat, I say "that's my baseball boyfriend." Mets guy looks at me and says "Oh, like in that episode of FRIENDS where they list five celebrities they're both allowed to sleep with?" Yes, exactly like that! And since I know you're wondering, here is the rest of my list:

My baseball boyfriend: Ike Davis

My music boyfriend: Michael Buble

My cooking boyfriend: Guy Fieri

My TV boyfriend: Matt Bomer

My Movie boyfriend: Orlando Bloom

*It used to be Heath Ledger, RIP*

My overall boyfriend whom I would trade in the other five for: Christian Bale. He's hot in Batman (love a man in a vinyl suit) but I actually fell in love with him in Newsies circa 1993. Yes, the one with Doogie Howser's little buddy in it. Coincidentally, that same kid was also in 10 Things I Hate About You with Heath Ledger. Are we sensing a theme here?

Point being, I ask him who's on his list and he says he doesn't have one. Bull shit. Everyone has a list. I even make suggestions and he doesn't bite at a single one of them. He just doesn't have a list. Wow, ok. How about a fantasy? There's got to be someone (other than Princess Leia in the gold bikini --- also a FRIENDS reference) that turns him on. Nope, no fantasies.

It is at this point in time that I ever so gently ask if sex has been a part of his life. He shakes his head no. Wow. Did not see that coming. Partly cause I was half kidding and partly cause he's 32 and it's just very surprising! His longest relationship only lasted 5 months. He tells me that in the beginning, it was a conscious, moral decision that he thought he wanted to wait until marriage but recently, there just haven't been any opportunities. No girlfriend, no chance at sex.

I refrain from laughing. I refrain from making snide comments. I refrain from running away screaming. Instead, I spend the evening trying to get to know this man because I am genuinely interested and I do not try to figure out what the hell is wrong with him because it's not a matter of "wrong." He's kind and considerate and funny and smart and has cloudy blue eyes I can't quite read. Yes, he has a nervous stomach which means he is not eating on tonight's date. Yes, he wants to name his future kids after Star Trek characters. Yes, his mother leaves him lists of chores to do thus canceling our dates. And yes, he's a 32 year old virgin. But when he got home that night, he texted me to say that he was sorry I hadn't gotten any zeppoles at the baseball game but there is a street fair setting up at the train station. He'd love to take me if I'd like to go. He owes me fried dough covered in sugar. Now that's what I call sweet!

Copyright Kimberly Spice 2010

Message Me If...

Dear Kimberly,

You asked what our first date would be like: Here's what I envision...

Moments after we meet, you'll feel the unmistakable urge to run home, pull that lovingly-worn Hello Kitty diary from out beneath your mattress, and furiously put ink to paper. You'll initially choose the word "cute" to describe me, but then scratch it out and go with "handsome" instead. You'll mention how I'm equal parts intelligent and funny, and more than a little bit charming. You'll reproduce, word-for-word, our brief conversation, and then realize (for the second time that day) that our exchange had the kind of breezy chemistry only found in the trailers to one of those coming-soon-to-a-theater-near- you high concept romantic comedies. When you're done writing, you'll clutch your diary and giggle a little bit. And then you'll look out your window and notice that giant rainbow that just appeared in the sky. Awesome!

You should want to get to know me better only if you are The Coolest Girl In Town. You nimbly walk the line separating style from vanity. You're well-versed in the fine art of exchanging knowing glances across a crowded room. You understand the difference between sarcasm and wit, and deftly navigate between irony and sincerity. You get bonus points if you can play an instrument. (Points are subtracted, however, for admitting participation in an a cappella group...) If you are a regular watcher of Fox News, I'm sorry -- we have no future.

I'm seek someone nice and looking for friendship, a long-term relationship, long-distance penpal, an activity partner, short-term relationship, or casual sex. Until I meet the right woman, I don't mind going wild.

So what do you think? Should we meet for coffee?

~Brian NYC

Shit That Makes Me Crazy

The following message was copied and pasted from my online activity last night. It does not bode well for the menfolk who simply refuse to evolve. Here is my issue: men claim not to know what women want. Women are not the complicated algorithms men perceive us to be. We pretty much tell you everything we need and it's just up to you to listen. Can we be cryptic? Occasionally, of course. But I'm talking about when we sit there and SPELL IT OUT for you and you STILL don't pay attention. When we specifically ask (or, most often) tell you how to make us happy and you still sit there, bitching, whining, moaning and complaining that your woman makes no sense. Listen to me, men! I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Are you paying close attention? No, of course you're not but I'll tell you anyway. When your wife kindly asks you to take out the recycling on Tuesdays and you tell her she'll need to remind you again ON Tuesday, that is NOT being helpful and co-operative. You should know what day of the week it is. There are only seven of them to choose from and chances are you at least recognize which two comprise the weekend which narrows it down greatly. You almost definitely know Friday from Monday which leaves three days you can pick from. You've got a 33% chance of getting it right so GO FOR IT. Throw those plastics, metals, glass and newspaper out to the curb without your woman reminding you! She'll be grateful she doesn't have to treat you like a child and you'll be grateful she stopped "nagging" you to take the stupid recyclables out because you've already done it! It's a win / win!!!

The same goes for couples who are dating and perhaps not up to fighting over domestic chores but still in the getting to know you phase. I have been in enough relationships by now to know what I want, what I don't want and what drives me absolutely crazy! There are certain things that I'm willing to settle for and others that make me want to punch you in the head. I will admit that this is a two way street and am willing to listen to your cares, concerns, wants and needs as well. But when I tell you that THIS (insert pet peeve here) makes me insane and you continue to do (aforementioned obnoxious activity) please do not be surprised when I walk away! You brought it on yourself.

Exhibit A)

Smiley:hi

kimberlyspice:hi

Smiley:how r u

kimberlyspice:fine

Smiley:great

Smiley:what r u up 2 tonight

kimberlyspice:writing to you

Smiley:awww soo u pretty bored 2

kimberlyspice:no, i'm tired and need to go to bed

Smiley:awww ok

kimberlyspice:just waiting for the mint tea to kick in

Smiley:aww

kimberlyspice:can i be really picky for a minute?

Smiley:sure

Smiley:whats up

kimberlyspice:saying u instead of you seems like such a silly thing but girls REALLY appreciate when you don't abbreviate. it's the simplest little form of etiquette but it means a lot to us :-)

Smiley:oh i do apologize

kimberlyspice:no apology necessary

kimberlyspice:you didn't do anything wrong

Smiley:o ok thanx

kimberlyspice:it's just that guys don't always know what women want. felt like sharing a little insider secret with you

Smiley: sure definately

kimberlyspice:just to better your chances :-)

Smiley:thanx

Smiley:yes definately

kimberlyspice:same with thanks vs thanx

kimberlyspice:i know it's silly but every single woman i know says that it makes her crazy

Smiley:oooo thank u 4 the tip

kimberlyspice:you're welcome. i know it's hard out there

Smiley:it is hard

kimberlyspice:well silly as it may seem, spelling and grammar will get you into a girl's good graces pretty quickly

kimberlyspice:you'd be amazed at some of the awful messages we receive

kimberlyspice:politeness and proper english win you major bonus points!

Smiley: definately but i will change that

Smiley:are u looking 4 a man

kimberlyspice:as opposed to a woman? :-)

Smiley:no r u looking 2 date

kimberlyspice:yeah, i guess you could say that

Smiley:that is great

kimberlyspice:why is that great?

Smiley:bc we are both single

kimberlyspice:so are millions of other people, hence these sites are so popular!

Smiley:that is soo true

kimberlyspice:and why are you single?

Smiley:i havent met anyone substansial

Alright men, I'm gonna break it down for you. Here are the Top Eight reasons why this conversation SUCKED:

1) "hi" is a generic statement. It does not elicit any particular response nor does it show that you have even a hint of personality or creativity. I don't care what you say but make a statement!

2) "how are you" is a generic question. There are about a thousand things you can ask someone when first getting to know them that will lead you into an interesting, enlightening and fun conversation. This is possibly the worst opener ever.

3) "what's up" is the same bull shit as "how are you" because it means NOTHING. If you only have my attention for five minutes, is this really what you're going to start out with? I've already lost interest. There are hundreds upon hundreds of profiles online. Do something to make yours stand out. Same with initial greetings.

4) It's are, not r. To / too, not 2. You, not u. And for, not 4. What r u up 2? is not coherent English. If you can't be bothered to spell out a three letter word then I can't be bothered wasting energy and effort on you either.

5) Be polite and have some manners. I'm sure that your mother taught you not to speak with your mouth full and keep your elbows off the table. Would she be pleased to know that a dozen lines into a conversation with a woman you still haven't introduced yourself properly by name? It seems a bit rude when trying to get to know someone you may potentially date in the future if you only know to refer to them as bootylover_2000. Can you imagine bringing that gem home to your parents? "Mom, Dad, I'd like to you meet my boyfriend LuvDaBush." I think not. How about we just call him Bob?

6) Spelling and grammar count people. I'm sorry to say it, but it's true. The first time you meet someone in person, you glean their level of intelligence, sense of humor and distinct personality from the way they speak. Wouldn't you want to present yourself as the most highly educated, confident, funny, sexy being that you are? Well the same is true for online dating. First impressions are lasting impressions so if I see that you're constantly taking shortcuts and misspelling words on a third grade reading level, I'm going to assume you're an idiot and I will continue my search for love elsewhere.

7) When a woman confesses to you something that drives her bonkers and you continue to repeat that action anyway, it is a sign of either disrespect or ignorance. Possibly both. Unless you want us thinking that you really are just that stupid and don't care enough to listen to our wishes, I'd suggest taking note when a woman is kind enough to point out how you can score more points with her. Most women would list "considerate" on their top ten list of highly desirable qualities in a mate. This means you!!!

8) Ask me about something personal, something unique, something special. Make me feel like you took two minutes out of your life to NOTICE something about me and only me. Let me know that you want to be talking to me because you find something about me interesting and not just because I have female anatomy.

Gentlemen, I hope that you've learned something here. If you have skipped ahead to the end of the blog, I'll recap with the Cliff's Notes version for you:

First impressions are lasting impressions. Make a good one.

Listen, pay attention and take notice of a woman when she's communicating something to you. You might be surprised at what you can learn.

Be polite, friendly, and use good manners. In an age of short cuts and inconsideration, the simplest gestures can mean the difference between her taking an interest in you or not.

Spell check people!!!

And finally, the recyclables go out on Tuesdays. *

*Please note: garbage night varies by town. Check your local listings for trash times near you!*

Copyright Kimberly Spice 2010