Have We Flirted Enough Yet?

I've written before about being trapped in the friendship box seats, looking on to the love game between your dream beau and somebody else (who is not you). It takes trial and a whole lot of error to work out how to keep yourself out of the sidelines and on the playing field when it comes to a meeting of minds and hearts on the field of (dating) dreams.

This problem is one that we're all faced with at some point in our lives and having been placed on team friend one too many times (involuntarily), we women often wonder - how much flirting it will take for our hearts to beat to the same drum?

What is it about a woman that stirs a guy to see her as girlfriend material and how long before that thought materializes into you asking her out?

If you are flirty by nature with all of your friends, you'll either wind up friendless fast or future girlfriends will envy the friendships you have and your friendships or relationship will cease to exist! Rule #1 Be selective or your words will soon mean nothing.

My issue with that is how are you supposed to tell the difference between flirtation and friendship if there's a one size fits all approach? This was the cry of a friend who is trying to read a friend of hers.

He went as far as saying he wanted to kiss her but when confronted with the possibility of a relationship he cowered away from commitment. Kick him to the kerb I say. Rule #2  Ask for all or accept nothing. You can’t flirt and not be prepared to follow through. Somebody always gets hurt.

I have one mate who said if he was interested in a girl he asked her out. Period! No excuses, no confusion … (maybe for him) - but there's always confusion somewhere! He was a serial flirt. He never hesitated to tell a girl when she looked good, he didn't mind a contemplative chat on her good qualities, He didn't mind dissing her exes, lunch or dinner dates were on him and he paid close attention to everything she said. He was a dream and the idea of him was nirvana - he never asked her out. They were never more than friends. She would always wonder why.

I'm generally a flirty person too. So I understand the adrenalin rush you can get from a flirtatious chat but I believe it's the frequency of it with the same person that can cause the confusion.

We live in an age where everyone is wearing the pants so with women sending just as many mixed signals as our male counterparts, it's no wonder the world is sleeping around unattached - everyone's just as puzzled as each other on what the opposite sex wants, but most (aside from my small community) agree on the physical.

What women want long-term are answers! We want clarity! We want you to cut to the chase and we want you to take chances! If you're interested make a move rather than be perfect, omnipresent and unattainable to us.

The fact is most girls will find it difficult to sustain a boy to girl friendship with a guy if they are attracted to him so by all means pursue friendship with the opposite sex but don't blur the lines unless you want your girl friend to become your girlfriend. Girls are to friendship as boys are to relationship.  If this was clear there'd be nothing to decipher.

If the water appears murky, it's best not to swim in it but of course then I'd have no blogging material and we'd all have less to chat about. Have we flirted enough yet? Absolutely not – but gosh I’d love some answers.

The problem according to Steve Harvey (author of novel and soon to be released film, “Act Like a Lady, Think Like a Man) is that when it comes to relationships women can’t figure men out because they don’t understand the way guys think about love and sex. The easiest way to learn is to step away from your female cliques and head to the men for the dispensation of matter-of-fact advice.

Men enlighten us? When do you flirt for flirting’s sake and when is your flirtation in pursuit of a relationship?

This week I simply do not have the answers…. Sorry girls there are always firsts

Till the blokes who read this decide to share the inner workings of their minds, ladies keep swimming and men keep fishing but flirt with limits, choose your fish, bait her, catch her, keep her. Women in the meantime add Steve Harvey’s book to your reading list and please TELL ME EVERYTHING!

Under the Sea, darling it's better, down where it's wetter...

 

The little Mermaid taught us a valuable lesson in its theme song, “under the sea.” The lyrics read: 

Just look at the world around you
Right here on the ocean floor

Such wonderful things surround you
What more are you looking for

Under the sea, under the sea
Darlin’ it’s better
Down where it’s wetter,
Take it from me

Up on the shore they work all day
Out in the sun they slave away

While we devotin’
Full time to floatin’
Under the sea

I’ve never believed that the saying that there were plenty more fish in the sea was true. In the dating world, this was a response to some miserable newly single sod who couldn’t see beyond his grief but he continued crying because he knew better. He knew it would be a struggle to find, lock in and connect with a new person. 

Love is ridiculous and the risk of exposing yourself entirely to a stranger with hope of no judgment and security is petrifying and idiotic if you were to rationalize it but for the thrill of finding the person who’ll stay we risk embarrassment anyway. 

I had the search for a soul mate described to me through a Google Advanced Search analogy. He (for a change) said, if you go through the motions of doing a Google Advanced Search when researching then you run the risk of your search yielding no results. The longer your list, the narrower the results, the less likelihood you have of finding your ideal match. 

I didn’t like what he was suggesting because it would mean the end to specificity on my list. While we both agreed that everyone has a right to be fussy about their future, he decided he didn’t want love unless it was perfect while I considered the merit of making compromises on what is trivial or negotiable in order to find true love. 

I believe one of the greatest miracles in life is finding love because against all odds, one person finds you among billions sees all of your flaws and chooses to stay with you anyway. If there was a man willing to do that for me, I sure as hell was going to give him a chance….but not without my checklist (I still have standards). 

However, what I realized in days past’ is that when my checklist became less refined, I was swimming in a whole new ocean of eligible bachelors. 

For centuries men have argued the right to keep their options open, to play the field and as such have battled with the limitations of monogamy. Women began to embrace this mentality during the sexual revolution of the 1960’s but not without a sexual stigma. 

I haven’t cracked. This isn’t one of those posts. My polygamous thoughts have not been about being with many but about thinking of many… till one emerges as supreme. 

I do take issue with this free spirited thinking though even though it’s my own because the same treatment is being reciprocated to me and I don’t like it one bit!

It seems while I was diving to the depths of my ocean, other girls took a dip and we all ran into the same big fish that is currently testing the waters. Now my water is murky. Yuck!

He’s enjoying his leisurely paddle through paradise (it’s a pool full of women – of course he was) and so he should – he’s quite a catch and it’s been a while since he’s been allowed to enjoy this sort of attention.  With adoration from the starfish (me) the clownfish and the jellyfish (the others) naturally he’ll basque in the glory of his bachelorism and take his time to select a soul mate (me again). While he’s doing that, he’ll connect with the catch of the day (clownfish and jellyfish) with reasons unknown to me. 

However in case this big fish has saltwater in his eyes and fails to see how fabulous I am, I have a backup plan. There are some sharks bathing in Big Fish’s pool too and they’re worth noticing. 

None of them have swum into my net yet but they have brushed close by and indicated a bit of interest so they have my attention. While ordinarily I’d advise to keep your eye on the prize, for the first time I see that the ocean is in fact full of flirty fish and maybe there’s merit in meeting them too for a chance that they may be better suited to me.  

I’m not sleeping around, I’m swimming around and as a starfish, it’s my right to explore the ocean I’m in. Starfish before me have been doing it for centuries and we’re not extinct yet so the strategy must have worked.

The ocean is deep, the fish are many and the lessons are far from learnt. While I’m getting better at untangling myself from the seaweed and escaping the catfish’s bite, I’m not through meeting the other stars of the sea so if Big Fish is too busy to give me my deserved attention, I’ll happily busy myself too, and maybe even meet another starfish ….

Excuse me while I take a dive in the pool of deep, dark and very handsome, there may be bigger fish to fry.  

Under the sea, under the sea
Darlin’ it’s better
Down where it’s wetter,
Take it from me ....

Love triangles and less than terrific timing...

Jessica likes James but her friend Julie likes him too. Julie has banded with Jessica's frenemy who also secretly happens to like James. None of them have discussed it with each other for fear of open competition or acceptance of defeat. They will all continue to court and pursue till James takes his pick. Lucky James.

 James is a little popular and a lot confused. He flirts with all but chooses none. James' friend Jono is more astute in his search. He knows exactly what he wants and that is Jessica but Jessica can't decide if being with Jono is where her life has been headed towards or if she'd rather toss both and go for their friend Jack. Friendships will be tried, loyalties will be tested and hearts will inevitably be broken. For the sake of peace, should all step away and bow out of the battle gracefully or should they follow their hearts with the belief that there is nothing more valuable than finding love?

James was in love once but when it was over, he saw the ugly side of his ex. He shook hands with bitterness, rubbed shoulders with rage and flirted with fury, but he stomped all over regret and refused to let it toy with his mind. Even though the outcome of his breakup would have allowed it. She moved on far quicker than he would have expected.

 Affairs, betrayal and recycling of relationships are something experienced the world over so it was all too important to find the person that shared his ideals and would promise the same security that he promised in a relationship second time around.

Betrayal was the basest of human actions yet James having experienced it in his past relationship had peace. It seemed everyone he knew was dating someone who somebody else loved before and although he didn't like it, he accepted the loss and soldiered on. He would rather an old love have love than halt the love of a heart that could never truly be his. This was simultaneously noble and stupid.

Jessica  had other wonderful friends who had caught partners in the act of cheating. The cheater and the mistress would go on to live happily ever after, while the cheated would be left to contemplate the loss, experience extreme lows and for the first time know loneliness. Fortunately, Jessica's friend was surrounded by wonderful people to uplift her but she'd often question why the person at fault got to know joy first?

Jessica would often tell her that it was important to experience a period of loneliness to build one's character so that when love came knocking she'd be complete enough to answer the door and let love in. Without development of one's self, it would be a relationship of dependance not one in which she could give yourself wholly to her other half.

Enter unfortunate timing for James and Jessica.

James and Jessica were chatting the other day and he sweetly contemplated that experiences lived out without a loved one were empty, futile and incomplete to him. He pondered that until his plus one could share in the joys of his life, he wouldn’t know contentment. This was the most beautifully expressed quest for love that Jessica had heard in a long time. She would have fallen for him instantly if she wasn't aware of the call to be guarded while he was still healing. He wouldn't be ready to love her for a while and so she accepted his friendship and would happily help him heal.

The problem here for Jessica was that while James claimed he was ready to move on, he continued to tell Jessica how perfect his ex (Gretchen) was. He mused on all of Gretchen’s good qualities and feared that he would never find those qualities again. Jessica didn’t voice her issue with this but if she had that night over, she would have asked, why you would want a repeat of your last relationship, if that formula failed you? He was blinded by love and it would be a while before he could see past Gretchen's good qualities. This was testament to his great character, not necessarily hers.  Gretchen sounded awful to Jessica. She tried not to judge..

She was at a crossroads… would she wait for James to be ready? Would she pay greater attention to Jono or Jack? Would she show James what he could have if he chose to love her? She didn’t want to wait because she held firmly to the belief that the man that chose to be with her would be instantly sure that she was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

If there was one lesson she’d always clung to from her youth it was that the right thing at the wrong time is still the wrong thing. This was true for James and Gretchen’s relationship and it was true for her situation now.

Jessica could have sat and pontificated on the things James was missing out on by dwelling on the past. She could have sat and tried to win James over. She could have even flirted with a different fate and seen where Jono or Jack could take her but she decided against all of those options because she’d been there, done that, been hurt and grown stronger.

Self worth was the greatest gift she could give herself. She’d let the other girls compete because for her, love was not a contest, it was a blessing, and if James didn’t want her, she didn’t want him either – not because he was bad, blind or a poor judge of character, but simply, because he wasn’t the one…and she would never accept anyone less for herself.

 

The perfect pout....on Men

pout ¹ (pout)

v. pout·ed, pout·ing, pouts

v.intr.

1. To exhibit displeasure or disappointment; sulk.

2. To protrude the lips in an expression of displeasure or sulkiness.

3. To project or protrude.

When Angelina Jolie's perfect pout went global and the use of collagen became the new black to achieve it - I never in a million years would have thought that men would proudly parade the pout too!
 
The problem with this is the perfect pout is creeping up on every profile picture of every potential boyfriend on every social networking site I'm connected on. The perfect pout is proving enormously imperfect for me.
 
I'm beginning to realize I have a type. It's not an uncommon type so I know you'll get it - I like them tall, dark and handsome - and occasionally I attract them.

We get talking – then take it to the next level (meaning we become Facebook friends).  I add them, I scroll through photos, and then I bear witness to their pouting.

Then I pout (but not in the same way - more in a damn-it here comes another pretty boy way).
 
I'm not sure what possessed these pouters but as far as I'm concerned the pouting has to come to a halt.
 
You see, I was speaking to a very attractive, very intelligent, very accomplished man - his laugh was likable, his looks were too, his intelligence ticked the third important box and just as I started to fall head over heels, his profile photo ensured I stayed firmly seated - this relationship would go no further. This relationship COULD go no further.

It's future was tarnished by his flirting faux pas - the profile photo and the pout within. He's one of many men to disappoint in this arena.
 
Unless you're Derek Zoolander or satirizing the satire - your pout should have no place on my news feed.

My girlfriend’s and I make fun of the girls that pout so you boys should feel free to as well, but I take issue when every photo of you has you sporting that look.
 
You may think I'm being petty and superficial but this is serious business!

If  'A picture says a thousand words' then a photo of a man pouting says; I endorse collagen, I'm a little bit in love with myself, I'm all about hooking up, I'm a tad feminine to which I say;
 
I've lost all interest!
 
Few people proudly post unflattering images of themselves on Facebook, Twitter or MySpace. They put their best face forward because if they are being searched for or stalked by a love interest, they'd like you to poke them, like them or positively comment on them. With that knowledge it puzzles me to see pouts proudly posted as a person's best face.
 
The pout in men is the perfect example of how social networking sites are stifling romance and relationships. It exposes us to too much before a relationship has any time to develop but in this world with so many choices to make and so little time to make them, it's imperative that we see and know more fairly quickly, in order to make the best and most informed decision in every aspect of our lives.
 
While I agree that we shouldn't judge a book by its cover, I'm puzzled when the book has chosen a cover that inspires such judgment.
 
Social networking is socially not-working for me - but surely I can't be the only woman who is passing on the pout.

 

You always want what you can't have until you get Facebook!

You always want what you can’t have and when what you wanted comes back begging for your attention, its desirability disappears. That’s my current dilemma but I’m also not the only one looking beyond what I own.

As I was writing this column, I opened up on ninemsn and stumbled across an article from a men’s magazine.  I don’t endorse that type of reading so I won’t post the link but it introduces the push-up bra for men’s packages. The idea is that you wear this wonder-wear and it enhances the appearance of your member, size-wise (it’s not a miracle worker). I can see a lot of willing consumers subscribing to this gimmick. In 2011, it seems women are not the only ones who are optically illusive with their bodies. We all own a pair of spanks, a body shaper, we gel, blow-dry or keratin our hair. We always want what we can’t have and being au naturale is sometimes a little bit too daunting for both players in the courtship game. 

My dilemma of wanting what I couldn’t have then suddenly not wanting it all, came in the once desirable entering the pornography trade; or close to. The ever damaging facebook revealed intimacy with other women. We all facebook stalk. It’s the easiest way to do a background check and the easiest way to be disappointed in your latest infatuation and even though he is roaming the streets carousing, gallivanting, Hugh-Heffnering around the place (although with women his age) he still finds time to check up on me. He would. Men like him are never satisfied with just one woman. Enter Oprah with my ‘aha’ moment. I shoulda seen. I coulda seen. I woulda seen had I taken off my blinders but we all know the cliché is true and ‘love is (in fact) blind.” 

A study in Cleo magazine found the saying to be true. In a test to see how men and women responded to their partners, it was not a photo that stimulated the heart but a memory, as “feel-good” transmitters floated through their pools of romantic, emotional bodies. That was sweet I thought because it meant these loved-up couples were in it for matters of the heart. How promising! (read it here http://www.cleo.com.au/men-and-women-from-same-planet-romantically.htm ) It dispelled the notion that men and women are from different planets and told us that love was what made the world (our same world) go round. Lovely!

 Madison magazine’s February issue reports the same. It chased several couples that chased love and believed they found it in different parts of the globe. Some fought till their love conquered, others (these are the ones I paid attention to this week) let their senses conquer. Good for them!

The one story that really struck me was of a young woman who harboured a love for a man she met at a conference. Love-struck and in romantic euphoria she held on to the penchant she had for this man for years. She believed that if they could be in the same place at the same time and rid of their state-divide, they could be happy. Time passed, distance in kilometers decreased, they moved on with their respective lives but every so often, this love would creep back into her life. She waited for that spark, but the fireworks were out upon discovering that he had married, moved on and was just looking for an affair the second time around. She realized she loved the idea of him, but the reality was repulsive, bland, disappointing. She moved on. She grew up. She found him on facebook and her latter perceptions were confirmed.

I’m still a hopeless romantic, just a little more cynical this week and just as I was about to give my old crush another go and hold on to the idea that I could be the exception, I logged onto facebook and saw he’d face-booked himself with a few online loves, r.s.v.p.d to a few more parties and signed his youth away to superficiality. Love is the deal. His lust for others is the dealbreaker. 

It’s true you always want what you can’t have but sometimes, if you’re lucky, what you want eventually comes back for you and that’s when you realize what you wanted is not really what you want at all. Phew!

Flatter, Flutter, Flee

By Miriam Eryan 

They say good things come in threes…the same rule applies for confusing things. The object of my confusion is mankind and his brotherhood. Men claim to be simple so I’ve simply categorized them in a tripartite division.

It’s the flatter, flutter, flee syndrome where one man will flatter you just because he can. This breed exists merely to remind you that some men have their vision and values in check. They keep you optimistic about finding that rare gentleman who will look without touch, who sees and believes and who will testify to the choir. 

The other man has your heart a flutter, your eyelashes batting. He ‘gives you fever’ but he that speaks idle words has a loveless heart and lustful agenda. This one is most cunning because he keeps you wanting more; key in ignition, he revs your engine but has a short battery life and once he’s taken you for a spin or two, you’re ditched on a sidewalk negatively charged. 

The third flees BC – that is before charming you or having the chance to be charmed. He is also known as the taken man, the gay man or as much as we hate to admit it, the uninterested. 

Last week, I had encounters with all three and my column was inspired by a scene from my much beloved Sex and the City. It’s where Carrie meets Berger the charming writer with a girlfriend (the latter fact omitted from his conversation). He was your typical ‘Flatter Man’ – sweet, charming, courteous, taken! He flattered, fled and the fireworks though seemingly undeniable where hastily put out – hindered by his missus. 

I’ve met a few Bergers in my short existence and increasingly, biting into an aged burger is losing its appeal as the subject fails to satiate the hunger for a relationship. Having reached expiry, the situation wreaks of desperation so while I maintain friendship, I’m almost certain, I’ll NEVER have fries with that!

The second type of man, I met at the gym. I’ve never quite understood why men find sweaty, smelly women attractive so when I’m attracting the primordial male at my ugliest in my track-pants, I’m always expecting someone to jump out and tell me I’m being punk’d. Cynicism aside, the askmen article (http://au.askmen.com/top_10/dating_100/134b_dating_list.html) rings true and with every drop of perspiration comes a man with flirty conversation. This of course is to our horror because when you approach we have panda eyes, red faces and sweaty hair – not quite pageant material. This man, I believe approaches because his carnal instincts see a woman work hard, sweat plenty who presumably, will play, work and sweat in satisfactory proportions. He; muscular and ego injected attempts to inflate your sense of self with his flattery as your steroid. Your heart muscle goes into overdrive. Be weary though, neither heart attack nor drug addiction was ever positive outcomes of a crush. You turn to perve on the quieter, more desirable, less approachable guy beside him. 

This guy is the one not interested. He doesn’t catch your gaze, he looks for beauty elsewhere and he doesn’t see you. He flees or you flee from embarrassment because the idea of unrequited love is a) repulsive b) disappointing but also c) promising because some men have eyes only for their partner and no adrenalin charged flattery, gym induced sweat or flirty banter will seduce him into slipping up. He’s the one you’re after and also the one you can’t have. The sayings are always true – you ALWAYS want what’s out of reach. 

Clichés as common, tried and uncreative as they may be, exist because they resonate with us. In keeping with clichés, happy endings are the clichés that happily end romantic comedies and that’s what this life is – a tale of funny flirtations with a happy ending that is luxurious in feeling as the velvet curtains that follow our final bows. 

Shakespeare knew exactly what he was talking about when he called the world a stage. He valued play and gave us midsummer night’s dreams to act out and see comedy in our dating errors; fleeing from each scene that threatens our happiness. 

With this in mind, learn the script, know the characters but remember to improvise and shock into sincerity – that’s when truest selves are revealed.

Summer Lovin'

It’s summer in Sydney and the heat is on and my question while the sun is shining and our skin is bare is; how safe is it to play with fire? That old flame is lingering, dancing (very well) in your mind and twirling up a disco inferno. 

You know the type. 

He’s that man you’ve held a penchant for for weeks, months, years even. He’s always charming, ever-friendly and never flawed – so you can’t catch him up on anything and the saucy news is he’s at a party near you, salsa dancing with your friend. This man enjoys the chase but you’re unsure if he’s still running after you because if he is after all this time you're thinking what great endurance he must have to be running this marathon.  You keep waving that finish-line-flag in a desperate bid to stop the games. 

In the silly season that we are in do we run with it, let our hair and guard down, enjoy the festive flirt and then lament our loneliness later, or, do we stay sensible so there’s no damage control or heartbreaking New Year’s resolutions to remake and possibly re-break?

My disco-dancer is footloose. He just can’t stop toe-tapping around me. He is a round the clock thought, a year round whirlwind and no weatherman could have ever predicted the natural disaster that would become of me. I play it cool these days, I played it smart (I thought) back then and he just played…everyone and everything around me. I'm persistent - a great strength and weakness - so I waited and smiled my way politely into friendship territory and now I’m stuck as the BFF when all I wanted was to be the GF….. and subsequent wife (but that was in the fine print). 

There’s my issue. 

It’s the so far eternal struggle to find the man who will keep his pants on, his hands out of his pants and his arms happily around me without an upward or downward slide. As a girl saving herself for marriage (we’re a dying few) and unwilling to compromise, it’s difficult to find a man who’s happy to love you for you, without ‘bed-loving’ you first. That crush of yours predatory and unable to wait, taunts you with his manly charm and primitively delivers his mating call. He appears EVERYWHERE as your forbidden fruit. 

As complex as it may be, it's not rocket science. We all know summer fruits are best had in their season. 

If they’re overripe they don’t satiate your desire and if they’re pre-season, they’re sour and unwelcome. BUT... in summer – they’re sweet, refreshing and can be shaken or stirred in a cocktail of your choice. 

I think I’ve just answered my question and resolved to let this fire burn, baby, burn. 

The worst that could come of this is that a cute fireman will come to my rescue and we ALL love a man in uniform!