Silverware and dishes go in the kitchen, clothes and accessories belong in the closet, toiletries reside in the bathroom, and books are kept on the bookshelf.  Everything has its place for a reason.  Ideally, these items all stay right where they belong.  …’Ideally’ being the operative word.

As I’m sure you know, keeping your house tidy and organized isn’t as easy as it sounds.  Sometimes you’re in a rush and you leave your shoes by the front door.  Maybe while multi-tasking, you forget where you left that book you were reading.  Perhaps you were too tired to wash the mug from last night’s hot cocoa, now sitting on your night stand.  Before you know it, your place is a mess, and you don’t know even know where to start the cleanup process.  After you spend the day cleaning, you promise yourself you won’t let it get so messy next time.  You tell yourself that you’ll keep things in order, remember to fold the laundry before it wrinkles, and put things where they belong.  Inevitably though, it’s a cycle that repeats itself over and over again, and you’re left making the same empty promises to yourself each and every time.

Though I’m not so great at keeping my house or my work space organized, keeping my dating life in order is a different story altogether.  In this realm, I compartmentalize.  I keep different parts of my life in different boxes; specifically speaking, I keep the men I date separate from my friends.  As I mentioned in a previous blog, “Friends or “Friends,” there are a plethora of reasons I enforce this policy, which is why I always (try to) follow it strictly.

So what do you when you spill one of the “boxes” and the two worlds collide?  Much like the unfolded laundry and shoes strewn about your room, things can get messy.  If you’re not careful, things will get out of hand quickly.  Before you know it, you’ve formed bonds with his friends, and he with yours.  You’re getting invitations to parties with an assumed “both of you.”  It’s a slippery slope into “we’s” and “ours” and unfortunately, the cleanup isn’t nearly as cut and dry as tidying up your house.

One of the main reason I compartmentalize my life like this is for self-preservation.  Simply put, it’s a defense mechanism.  By keeping the two worlds separate, I can stay detached.  I can turn my emotions on and off, and as each relationship inevitably comes to an end, there are no loose ends to think about or strings to detach.  Without emotional investment, there is no collateral damage.  By decompartmentalizing, I render myself vulnerable.  Letting someone into MY world…allowing them into the “inner circle,” is a scary thing, and not one that I take lightly.  Because now, a break-up isn’t just a separation, it’s the unweaving of webs.  It’s a top-to-bottom house cleaning, from scrubbing clean the shared memories, to sweeping up the dust your friends track in when they bring up his name or tag him in a newly uploaded Facebook photo.

Just like your disorganized closet, it’s bound to happen eventually, whether you to intend on it or not.  If you purposely merge the two circles, you can control the rate of integration and at least be prepared for a sort-of organized chaos.  But, when it happens inadvertently,  and your vulnerability catches you off guard, you have to adapt.  You have to break down the boxes altogether, and think of it not as a mess that’s cluttering up your life, but as an unexpected reorganization that just happens to make it look a little different.

And if in the end, you find yourself cleaning up the mess just like all the times before, hopefully you can look back and say it was worth it.  …It’s like hosting a party at your house; sure you might spend the entire next day cleaning up and there might even be some stains in the carpet, but how else would you know that everyone had a great time?

Often times as I’m constructing a new entry for My Vagina Monoblogs, I think to myself…”You know self, you think you’re pretty high and mighty, don’t you?  Hiding behind your lap top, (I’m a PC, by the way, but open-minded enough to give Apple a shot, for anyone so inclined to present me with a MacBook to change my mind,) entertaining the masses with your cutting remarks and witty commentary.”  (As you can see, even when thinking to myself, I take modesty very seriously.)

As I pondered this thought, I decided that if I was going to “talk the talk,” I’d better “walk the walk.” But how?  How could I prove to my audience that I’m not just as bad as all the people I critique?  Who is to say that I’m the authority on relationships?  What makes me an expert in the world of online dating?  (Other than 7 years of experience, of course…)

After careful contemplation, I came to the obvious conclusion that I am NOT the authority, and likely don’t qualify as an expert in anyone’s eyes but my own, (and maybe a few 35-year-olds who can’t even get laid as a character in World of Warcraft.)  In fact, what I AM is kind of rude – mocking these innocent men, when all they’ve done is taken an interest in me.  They put themselves out there, and in turn, I put them on blast.  These poor, unknowing, blameless fellows…

Right.

Anyway, I do feel that if I’m going to ridicule people for their dating techniques, emails, and profiles, I should at least give my readers the opportunity to ridicule me for mine.  (Or praise me for it, if you’re so inspired…)  So, here it is, in all its glory – the “About Me and Who I’m Looking For” section of my match.com profile:

About Me and Who I’m Looking For

Things I’ve learned from match. com…
1.) Every man here:
a. thinks they are honest, intelligent and/or funny…
b. “hates drama”
c. “loves to travel”
2.) If you don’t have a picture posted…there’s a very good reason for it.
3.) Winking is kind of a cop out…it’s like getting a girl’s number and then texting instead of calling.

You shouldn’t send me a message if:
1.) Your profile has less than 3 full sentences.
2.) You don’t know the difference between their, there, and they’re.
3.) You don’t have any pictures posted…please see above.
4.) You don’t live within a reasonable distance. …Virginia is not reasonable, nor is India.

That being said…
I’m just all about enjoying myself and who I’m with.  I have the attention span of a 4-year old, so I’m always looking for new ways to entertain myself.  I can literally have fun anywhere – and I do. It’s not easy finding someone who can keep up.

I’m pretty much over the whole clubbing-it-three-nights-a-week scene, but I definitely still go out with my friends.  I’m anything but a home-body. I’m down for going out anywhere that I don’t have to scream to have a conversation: “HI! YOUR NAME IS WHAT? MOE? No? BEAU? Ohhh…JOE! HI, NICE TO MEE…WHAT?? YOU WANT TO FIND A SINK? …OH! BUY ME A DRINK?” …doesn’t really seem very efficient to me.  I do love to get all dressed up though, so I’ll take any excuse to do that.

I’m a pretty outspoken person and I don’t apologize for who I am, (not that I need to!)  I can be kind of (read: really) sarcastic and some might even say abrasive…personally, I’d say that I just call it like it is.

I laugh at myself A LOT.  I’m not a stress-case; I take things in stride.  I don’t really see the point in getting upset over the little things…and most times, not the big things either.

As far as who I want to date…well, everyone has a right to be picky.  I’m into guys who can have a great time anywhere they are.  Humor is a given, I like to be around people who can crack me up – and laugh at themselves in the process.  I can be a big goofball, so you’ll definitely need to be able to laugh with me and often times AT me.

I like confident people, who value themselves…because if YOU don’t, well then…why would I bother?  Intelligent conversation is generally a priority – as opposed to mindless banter.  Don’t get me wrong, I love banter, as long as there’s something a bit more substantial to back it up.  Most importantly, I like a guy with a great attitude about life. I’m a really positive person, (almost to a fault!) so I’m not into Negative Ned or Debbie Downer (and yea…I really just said that.)

Also, I am a traditionalist with men; over-sensitivity is NOT my style…I’m not into guys who cry more than I do.

I like a guy’s guy, who isn’t afraid to make the first move and doesn’t think chivalry is dead — not that I need someone to take care of me, but it’s nice to be with someone who wants to.

An active lifestyle is very important to me – I’m not saying I won’t date a guy without a 6-pack and a track record of 1st place marathon wins, but I am saying that I’m only interested in people who like to be active and enjoy being outdoors.

As far as “relationships” are concerned…I’m not a subscriber to the theory that I need someone to complete me…I’m quite complete actually.  And my ideal “match” is someone who feels the same way.

In any case, I’m not someone who jumps into “serious relationships;” I’m just looking to meet people who want to have fun and see what happens from there.

Wow, that was lengthy…if you finished, I’m impressed. (That’s what she said.)

So…there you have it.  This is my little way to show you that I’m willing to “walk the walk.”  I hope you agree that I present myself to potential matches just the same as I convey myself here…honestly.

Occasionally (read: consistently,) I get match.com messages from men who I am not attracted to in any way, shape or form.  Some of them are not altogether unattractive, per se; it’s just that I’m not attracted TO them.  However, some of them are…for the sake of diplomacy, let’s say “aesthetically unappealing.”

Now generally, I will simply ignore the message completely.  While this sounds rude, because of the way Match is set up, it actually gives the impression that I may not have read the email at all.  (To clarify, you can create a Match profile for free, but you cannot access your inbox unless you are a paid subscriber.  Since there’s no way to tell who is a paying member and who’s just tooling around for free, unanswered messages are a pretty normal occurence.)

That being said, I received a message recently from a man who can be most accurately described as a bald version of Phil Margera (Bam Margera’s dad,) seen here:

Phil Margera (Bam Margera's dad)

I’m describing what this character looks like not to wantonly make fun of him, but to set the scene for the following email chain between Phil Margera’s Doppelganger (PMDG) and myself…

PMDG: LoL …. Wow! You should prepare yourself for being single… for quite a while…. LoL

Now…I’m pretty sure he’s being rude here, but I’m going to need some verification.

Me: I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or a put down.

PMDG: LoL …. re-read your profile babe!!! …. would/could you respond to your own profile? *YIKES* LoL

….

….

….sorry for the pause, I had to take a moment to pick my jaw up off the ground.

I’m not even going to start in with my “bad grammar is a pet peeve” speech, but I’m sure you’re cringing, just as I am, due to the nails-on-a-chalkboard combination of an over-used, clichéd acronym AND sardonically referring to me as a pet name, when a.) he doesn’t even know me and b.) he is insulting me!!

**If you’re wondering about my profile, and what I could have possibly written to warrant that reaction, check out this  coming Monday’s blog; I’ll be sharing the content of it there.  For now, just know that I specifically indicate the type of person who I do NOT want to be contacted by, (i.e. people with no pictures, live across/out of the country, and/or cannot construct a grammatically correct sentence.) **

Me: Funny…I seem to get plenty of responses to it.  Though, you know, I suppose there IS a reason that you wouldn’t; my guess is you’re just the type of person I’m trying to ward off.  Also…emailing someone specifically to insult them?  Really? You felt that was necessary?  Is that really who you want to be?  …It’s called tact, go get some.

As you can imagine, I received no response.

This week’s question comes to us from a 30-something woman wondering how to handle an awkward situation.

Dear MVM,

I’ve had quite a full plate lately, lining up two or three different dates in the same week.  Of course, I’ve been completely transparent and have made these men aware of my non-exclusivity.  Everything’s been going swimmingly until a recent run-in that caught me a bit off guard.

I went out with Date #1 early in the week, and we had an incredible time, just as we’d had the previous few times we’d been out.  He was charming, as was I, and things couldn’t have gone any better.  From the romantic dinner to the evening night cap, it was obvious we were both smitten.

Date #2 was the very next night, and we too had already been on several dates.  After dinner, we decided to walk to a neighboring pub for a drink; on the way, I spotted Date #1 walking down the street with another woman!  In an effort to avoid an uncomfortable situation, I quickly stepped out of his view.

As the evening continued, I couldn’t help but wonder about Date #1’s “mystery blonde.” Was he on a date?  Was he having “night caps” with her too?  Was he saying the same sweet things to her as he was saying to me?!

More importantly…do I have a right to know?  After all, I was on a date too.  Am I allowed to ask him about it or is that taboo?  Does this pang of jealousy mean that I want to be exclusive…or maybe just that I want him to be exclusively mine?

Help!

– Justifiably Jealous

Dear Jealous Jezebel,

Quite a pickle you’ve gotten yourself into…though I can’t say I haven’t been in a few of those myself.  I’m going to give it to you straight, as things seem to be a bit askew for you currently.

You said it yourself, and I’ll repeat it for you here: you were also on a date! You definitely can’t be upset with Date #1 for hitting the town with this mystery blonde who, by the way, you’re not even sure if he is dating.  What you have here, my dear, is a textbook case of hypocrisy.

If you looked up double standards in the dictionary, you may very well see a diagram of yourself standing in betwixt Dates #1 and #2.  I hate to break it to you sister, but this one’s an open and shut case.

You can probe for information if you want, but it will likely do more harm than good.  If you want exclusivity, then make your intentions clear, but know that this intention will also limit your own dating spectrum.

You can try to have your cake and eat it too…but I imagine all you’ll be left with is an empty plate and lingering guilt.

Happy to help,

MVM

Remember: If you’d like to submit a question or funny story for the Mid-Week Meltdown, send an email to myvaginamonoblogs@gmail.com, with your name, age, gender, and a little something about yourself.  I try to answer all questions in a timely manner.

I’ve been doing a bit of traveling the past month or so, (hence the lack of blogging,) and have a recommendation for anyone with an upcoming trip.

One of my favorite places to people watch has always been the airport, for a number of reasons.  Have you ever noticed that almost everyone at the airport thinks their time is more important than anyone else’s time?  (FYI to the obnoxious guy who is sighing loudly behind me while I take off my jacket and shoes at Security: if you’re THAT annoyed, you probably should have sprung the extra $100 for business class to get in on that VIP Security lane.)

Aside from silently laughing at impatient business travelers and silently cursing at screaming children, there’s also something really exciting about traveling.  You never know who you might meet in the airport or who you might sit next to on your flight.   For this reason, I always dress to impress while traveling.  Since most people dress for comfort, in their favorite hoodie and sweats, I figure my efforts are doubly effective.  Plus, the hotter you look, the more you can get away with – at the airport or otherwise.  (You can’t deny it; I’m speaking the truth.)

Need to get your seat switched to a window or skip to the front of the security line when you’re running late?  Your chances are a lot higher when you’re rocking heels and a short skirt than track pants and tennis shoes.  Hoping to get bumped to first class when you find out your flight was oversold?  It doesn’t hurt that the gate agent has a thing for tights with boots.

Think I’m being ridiculous?  Tell that to the handsome pilot I had an impromptu lunch date with on my recent 90 minute layover in Chicago.  Though I’m sure Steve the Pilot has a girl in every city he flies to, I bet none of them were wearing sweat pants and sneakers when he met them.

Remember, you only get one chance to make a first impression.  So, next time you’re packing your carry-on with ear plugs and a pillow, take a look in the mirror and ask yourself: Am I bringing the hotness? Steve the Pilot sure hopes so.

When I logged into my Match.com inbox today, I immediately knew what to blog about.  Here is the message I woke up to:

Subject: (none)

Message: “hello how are u i like your pics lol nice”

Now, I know that I can sometimes be overly critical of these match.com-ers…but COME ON!  Where do I even begin here?

1. We ALL know how I feel about bad grammar, but this guy’s disregard for punctuation, capitalization, and general linguistic structure blows me away.

2. “LOL?” What are you laughing at?  My pictures? Is that a compliment?  I don’t understand.

3. Nice?  You’re nice? I’m nice? Who’s nice? WHAT is nice?  Certainly not your haphazard attempt at a pick-up line.

It’s not easy to render me speechless but I think this email nearly leaves me at a loss for words.

As opposed to ignoring the message altogether, I’d like to take suggestions on how to respond!   Comment on the blog with your ideas; I’ll choose one of your suggested responses and post the winning reply on Friday’s blog.

…This should be fun.

Remember: If you’d like to submit a question or funny story for the Mid-Week Meltdown, send an email to myvaginamonoblogs@gmail.com, with your name, age, gender, and a little something about yourself.  I try to answer all questions in a timely manner.

I spent a few days in Vegas this past weekend, and this is just one of the stories that made it out.  What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas…unless it’s blog-worthy.

Though I came home with a menagerie of stories and misadventures from the weekend, the most interesting so far has been with the Stage Five Clinger.  I met him playing craps and it seemed his luck extended past the tables because he ended up with my number.  We texted a bit throughout the afternoon and evening but weren’t able to cross paths again that day.  The next morning at 6am, he texted to see if I was still awake, as he was getting ready to head out and catch his plane.  It’s Vegas…so of course I was still up and ready for a mid-morning date.  We met up for coffee  (his was Starbucks, while mine was Irish,) and chatted for over an hour.  He asked if he could whisk me away for a weekend, and I HAD to say ‘yes.’  (Like I’m going to say ‘no’ to someone offering a weekend getaway…that’s like saying, “No no, I DON’T want stories for my blog…”)

We parted ways and that’s when the mass texting started.  At first, it was innocent enough:

“It was great to meet you, have a great day.” (That’s a perfect follow up text – much appreciated.)

“You are incredible.” (I’ll take it.  I mean, no one is arguing with him here.)

“I hope to see you again.” (Ok, you’re confirming this weekend getaway business, I get it.)

Then, the unnecessary status updates and pointless texting started:

“Boarding my plane, I won’t be able to talk for awhile.” (Um…yea, I know, you DID say you were headed for the airport.)

“Just landed.  Are you home yet?” (No…but why does it matter?)

“Miss me yet?…LOL.” (Umm…are you being serious or ironic?  Either way, superfluous.)

“Good morning sunshine!” (Yes, I’m awake…does this warrant a response?  I need to get ready for work.)

Though this was a little more than slightly annoying, I decided to deal with it because I knew the weekend trip would make up for the over-texting.  Plus, that could likely be easily fixed in one conversation.

That night, during what I can only describe as a textaholic overdose, he asked me what happens if we “get serious.”  (Obviously, he does not know me well.)  I told him to slow his roll; if we wanted to pursue something (which, let’s be honest, is highly unlikely, not only due to my conflicting schedule with his Textaholics Anonymous meetings, but because I can barely commit to plans for a Friday evening, much less a cross-country relationship,) we could figure out the how’s and why’s later. Otherwise, I just wanted a fun weekend in Napa.

Then came the incessant texting…I was sitting at work the next day, and a text came through.  I didn’t check my cell because I was on the phone with a client.  Then I heard the alert again.  …Again, I ignored it.  A minute later: another alert.  Then another, and another.  Finally, I got off the phone with my client and checked my messages to see who had the emergency.  This is what I saw:

“Hi there!”

“Hello?”

“???”

“Crickets”

“…..?”

“U there?”

My response?  “Don’t be clingy. It’s unattractive.”

Later that night, after returning home from the gym, I saw two messages.  “I miss you” and five minutes later, “Hello???”

My (final) response: “You’re creeping me out.”

The idea of someone flying me out to Napa Valley for a whirlwind romance IS tempting and I’d loved to have gone.  Plus, the blog fodder from that weekend would have been priceless; I’m sure.  However, when dealing with a Stage Five Clinger, it’s best to cut your losses as soon as you’re able.  Otherwise, Stage Five Clinger turns into Number One Stalker.

To my Stage Five Clinger, because I know you read the blog:

A piece of honest advice – and please don’t take offense – you’ve got a lot to offer; you shouldn’t give it out so easily.  Playing hard to get is a necessary evil.  Flattery will get you everywhere, but too much of it will get you a restraining order.  The line between not enough and too much isn’t exactly a fine one.  There’s plenty of room for variance; in the future, just reduce your standard deviation.

Remember: If you’d like to submit a question or funny story for the Mid-Week Meltdown, send an email to myvaginamonoblogs@gmail.com, with your name, age, gender, and a little something about yourself.  I try to answer all questions in a timely manner.

This week’s question comes to us from a 20 something woman who gets carded to buy candy cigarettes.

Dear MVM,

I have been blessed with genetics that make me look years younger than my actual age. I love it, don’t get me wrong, and I realize that I’m going to look like I’m 30 by the time I’m 50, but with the good does comes the bad. I’m currently 27, but I look like I’m 19…23 at the most. Because of this, I attract all the 23 year old boys, or the 40-somethings who “like ‘em young.” As a girl who’s ready to settle down, you can see my dilemma. How do I attract the upper 20’s – mid/lower 30’s crowd and let them know that I am, in fact 27, and not, ahem, 17?

Sincerely,

Child’s Play

Dear Young Blood,

Ahh…the “age old question”…sorry, couldn’t help myself.

Yes, you’re right – you are VERY lucky.  Most women would kill to look years younger than their actual age – you can thank those genetics for saving you thousands of dollars in plastic surgery down the road.  (Imagine if Joan Rivers had your “dilemma;” the world would have 15 more pounds of plastic and collagen to work with.)

I have a pretty simple theory about this, but you may not like the answer.  Yes, looking young can attract younger men…in the same way that looking slutty can attract dirty men and looking frumpy can attract NO men.  Though it may seem that your genetics (and several statutory rape laws,) are the reason you are attracting younger men, I think there’s a lot more to it.

Have you ever said to another person, “Wow, he/she doesn’t carry him/herself like a (fill in the age here)-old.  He/she is much more mature?” Or how about, “I’d never have guessed he/she was (fill in the age here,) he/she doesn’t act like that at all – he/she is so young at heart!”

Of course you have.  You may look like a 12 year old, but maybe you’re getting mistaken for a 17 year old because of the way you carry yourself.

Let’s start with the external – what kind of clothes are you wearing? Are you in t-shirts and shorts the majority of the time?  When you’re shopping, do you see a bunch of teenagers in the same store or department?  That might be a clue to change up your style.

What about your hair and makeup? Is your main style a pony tail?  Do you toss it up straight from the shower?  Is your makeup nonexistent?  Do you see girls who are ACTUALLY fifteen who have a better sense of style than you do?  I’m not saying you need to spackle your face with 3 inches of foundation, but picking up a blush brush and some eyeliner might just do the trick.

Who are you hanging out with? If the average age of the friends in your inner circle is below the legal drinking age, I think we’re starting to see a pattern.

Where are you hanging out? Look around at the clientele.  If you see video games or a large costumed mouse, and a “pizza bar,” it’s time to find a new watering hole.

Your genetics may play a role in your pattern of suitors, but you can affect that pattern by making a few simple changes.  The clothes you wear, the words you choose (you may note the fact that you call yourself  a “girl” in your initial question,) the way you carry yourself – all these things are factors in your “presentation.”  Stop blaming your “damned good looks,” and start attracting the crowd you want by acting the part of a person who attracts that crowd.

Forever Young,

MVM

Remember: If you’d like to submit a question or funny story for the Mid-Week Meltdown, send an email to myvaginamonoblogs@gmail.com, with your name, age, gender, and a little something about yourself.  I try to answer all questions in a timely manner.

Men are like….shoes.

You can invest in a quality pair of sensible shoes and they will last you a lifetime.  They may not be the hippest pair around, but after you break them in, they’ll always be comfortable.  After a few years, they won’t be shiny and new, but they’ll still go with pretty much anything.

OR

You can get plenty of cheap stylish pairs.  They catch your eye in the store, and you can’t help but try them on.   They will look fantastic with your new outfit, but don’t match much else.  They can be a little uncomfortable and sometimes hurt you, but will make you feel fantastic when you’re out on the town.  After two or three wears, they will dull and possibly break.  They’ll go out of style quickly and you’ll be shopping again in no time.  You’ll always remember them fondly, and may even keep them in the back of your closet, in case they come back in style.  You know they were an impulse purchase, but you still feel it was money well spent; it was an addition to your collection, if nothing else.

Men are like…drinks.

You can get a fancy cocktail, full of sugar and juice.  It will make you happy immediately, maybe even light-headed; later on though, it will go straight to your hips. You might wake up the next day feeling guilty, but damn if it didn’t taste good going down…

OR

You can get a light beer, like Michelob Ultra.  It’s a smart choice; it will satisfy your thirst, but will leave you wanting more.  You’ll feel good about your decision, but would much rather indulge in something richer.

Men are like…cars.

You can drive an Italian sports car.  It will rev you up, make you look and feel sexy, and will always be able to keep up.  It’s not practical for your future, but you love to talk about it.  The sounds it makes get you hot and bothered and you love how other people stare.  You know it’ll lose its novelty eventually, and you probably won’t be able to afford the maintenance.

OR

You can drive a hybrid.  It’s quiet, sensible, and has financial benefits.  It’s a smart and safe choice, but you can’t help wondering what it would feel like to drive a big truck around once in awhile.

Remember: If you’d like to submit a question or funny story for the Mid-Week Meltdown, send an email to myvaginamonoblogs@gmail.com, with your name, age, gender, and a little something about yourself.  I try to answer all questions in a timely manner.

This week’s question comes to us from a 30-something woman, who is looking for some new spots to meet a mate.

Dear MVM,

Besides match.com and other dating websites, what places do you recommend for meeting people of the opposite sex?

Signed,

Looking for love in all the wrong places

Dear Love Locator,

Unfortunately, there isn’t a Google Maps for Men or a Widget for Women’s Whereabouts – though with Google’s inventiveness, I don’t doubt it’s too far off.  Regardless, my answer for you is simple, albeit vague.  Where do you meet people of the opposite sex?  Everywhere.

Yes, there’s the obvious – bars, clubs, concerts, etc.  When we (men and women alike,) are out at a bar or club, we’re basically on the prowl.  We know that these types of places are prime grounds for meeting and mingling.  Thus, when we go to these places, our state of mind is such that we are not only on the lookout for potential mates, but pursuant about it.  However, we often overlook and/or underestimate all the other opportunities we have to meet potential dates on a daily basis.

Going to the grocery store to pick up some ground beef?  You might notice the beefcake perusing the frozen foods aisle. Headed to the gym for a mid-day cardio blast?  Take a look at the guy who’s blasting his pecs on the bench press. Walking your dog at the dog park?  Walk it on over to the hottie with the French Bulldog.  Catching some rays at the beach or a friend’s pool? That guy in the Ray-bans has got potential. Checking out a book at the library?  Check out the cougar in the Non-Fictions.

All puns aside, I think you’re picking up what I’m putting down.

It’s not so about about where we are, it’s all about our state of mind. There are single men and women literally everywhere you look; you just have to be open to meeting them.

Next time you’re about to run some hum-drum errands, give yourself a second glance in the mirror. Women – are you wearing your “lounging” pants and an old sweatshirt that is not only circa 1987, but does about as much for your figure as a potato sack? Men – are you wearing that T-shirt with a hole in the underarm and those shorts with the paint-stains? You wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that stuff on a date, so why would you let that be your first impression for the cute guy/girl ordering a latte at your favorite coffee shop?

The better you look, the more confident you’ll feel, and all it takes is a simple comment to get things started.  Such as….

That beefcake in frozen foods…wasn’t he getting personal-pan frozen pizza?  No girlfriend in that picture. “Tomato-basil huh?  I had an incredible slice at Bronx Pizza last week – have you been there?”

That lady at the library…wasn’t she checking out Chuck Norris’ autobiography?! “Did you know that Chuck Norris is suing MySpace for taking the name of what he calls everything around us?”

You get the idea.

Open your eyes and you’ll see a world of opportunity.  All you need is to be (physically and mentally) prepared to seize it.

It’s not about being in the right place at the right time, it’s about being in the right state of mind ALL the time.

Opportunity awaits,

MVM

Remember: If you’d like to submit a question or funny story for the Mid-Week Meltdown, send an email to myvaginamonoblogs@gmail.com, with your name, age, gender, and a little something about yourself.  I try to answer all questions in a timely manner.