I previously wrote that I would not have the savvy nor the energy to pull off dating two men at once. After posting it, I wondered if I was in fact sure of this. And if this was the definitive answer, why wasn’t it possible for me? Furthermore, shouldn’t we all consider doing it?

Unfortunately, this is sounding dangerously close to that horrible book that outlined the rules that women needed to follow in order to find their perfect mate. 

While I think that book is absolute garbage, there is something to be said for exploring one’s options before making a final decision.

When it comes down to it, I think about all the decisions I’ve made in haste over the years, some of which have been more detrimental than others.

I look back at these and remember how difficult it was and how long it took to reverse the damage done in a fraction of a second. 

Whether it was extra portions that lead to extra trips to the gym, or saying “I do” as opposed to “I think we need to work out some of these issues before we proceed,” the result was always me having to shift gears and try my damndest to get out of the quicksand before being completely enveloped.

I may not yet have the wherewithal, but whenever I should find myself back in the game, I’d going to make sure I am able to pull off a double-header.

Last weekend, I decided to take an impromptu break from reality and travel to the far away land of Philadelphia. I went to visit my friend Jennifer, who has, like me, had the great misfortune of being banished to the suburbs for the summer.

During the course of the weekend, I was reminded of our time together as struggling students. These memories led me to think about the future, and how I am handling the next chapter of my life.

Many of the associates I have made in the last two years have faded away. Most of them, I decided, were dead weight as I was headed into the future.

But that future has not begun to shine are brightly as I had anticipated when I moved to NY to attend school.

At times I wish it was a bit less of a struggle.

Sunday morning Jenn and I decided to go for breakfast, which was more of a task than either of us had anticipated. Apparently, the suburbs of the fifth largest city in the U.S. don’t unroll their sidewalks on Sunday until after 10 am.

Twelve dollars and a very interesting cab ride later, we found ourselves at the other end of the city in a diner that had every character you could imagine. Every possible character you could possibly imagine was a local at this joint, but the cream of the crop was our waitress, who had the two of us in stitches as soon as we sat down. Shortly after assuming our positions at the counter, our waitress caught one of the male patrons being less than subtle with his glances. Her disapproval of his behavior was all over her face. “I just hate the fact that men don’t even feel the need to be subtle about their attraction anymore,” she complained audibly. “A short glance is sexy, but just to ogle is downright tacky – and rude.”

Ah, the staring.

In my trips to the supermarket in upstate New York, I have noticed that men stare – a lot. We’re not talking a quick glance, either.

I appreciate all of those who seem to be committed in their efforts to finding me a man, but could you help me find a job first?

I am saying this because — well, let’s face it — I feel as if I’ve been pushed to.

More times than not, I have had people ask me in some form or another when I planned to start dating. Now that I am finished with school for the time being, many people see this as a time for me when I should to get back in the saddle, find a man, and ride him off into the sunset. But I would rather prefer to have a steady job rather than a steady beau.

But I am left to wonder, why do so many people place such a premium on being in a relationship – even at the expense of self-fulfillment?

It just seems irrational — and irresponsible — to try to land a boyfriend before landing a job. Would you splurge on a luxury vacation before paying your rent? I think not. So why waste time looking for a mate rather than look for a job?

Human beings are social animals. I know this — I’m a sociologist. I also know that there are basic human needs that we all have that need to be met, should we want to feel complete. Referring back to Abraham Maslow’s pyramid schematic, says that one would see that safety and financial security actually come before relationships and sexual intimacy. What I want to know is; why then do friends and acquaintances worry more about my romantic life than my professional life?  And when did the flip occur? Why is it that so many people seem to place the need of being fulfilled by others over self-fulfillment? Does it seem less embarrassing (or more interesting?) to say “Have you finally met a guy?” than “Did you finally find work?”

In the span of three days, my gentleman caller has called — twice — and has sent three emails. Three of these correspondences came after I sent an email saying that I was trying to get through the end of the semester, and that I would call as soon as the madness was over. He sent an email acknowledging this.

Ten minutes later, he sent another email, followed by a phone call the next day.

Needless to say, I am no longer interested.

In my younger years, I would have seen this eagerness as sweet, cute, or some other innocuous gesture. Now I see it as a nuisance. This is a very stressful time for me, and I need to dedicate all of my energy to completing this task — a task that has already dragged on far too long.

I don't know if he was just overly excited, or if he just doesn't care about what I am trying to do — I really hate to think this is the case. Fact of the matter is, I see his behavior as a bit on the insecure side, and I am not attracted to that.

I am not quite sure how I am going to handle this. Exams will be over in a few days, so maybe I will check it out then. Problem is, after graduation, I will have a whole new set of priorities — job search and the like. If he doesn't understand that I need time right now, what will happen later?

As Chastity prepares herself for another go at the mercy of Mother Nature, Kyle tells her that he has decided to go with her to see the play. Mind you, at this point the woman, clad in a sweater and jeans, had one foot out the door. Before anyone could bat an eye, she was back in the bathroom, changing into a skin-tight denim dress. Really? This is the behavior real women engage in? I thought that this act — one that I'd only seen before in television and movies — was very predictable and rather sad. Did she really think this was necessary? Apparently, she did, or he wouldn't have bothered changing.

More than anything, it makes me sad — and a little bit embarrassed — to see a woman put herself so shamelessly and desperately out there. I have to wonder what Kyle was thinking.

I know that we all commit the equivalent of this action from time to time — wearing that perfect outfit when we know we might see someone that has caught our attention, but subtlety is the key here. You don't make an obvious change in front of their face, and you don't go to such the extreme that it looks posed. I know this was a one-shot deal for Chastity, as we were in a hostel in Ireland, and this gent was currently residing in Spain. But that begs the question: Why bother at all?

I will never be so careless in choosing a partner again — for whatever the reason. I don't care if it's a square-dance partner, I want some proof that I'm not going to want to smack someone by the end of the night. This fiasco has reminded why I travel alone — or with people I have known for years.

Chastity and I manage to get to the airport with time to spare. She finally made lodging arrangements for our arrival, and we are on our way. About nine hours and one Heathrow layover later, we are in Dublin and in our room — a four person mixed dorm room.

This is fine with me, as there are times — like now, with the dollar so weak against the Euro — that I don't mind economy lodging. Even better was the fact that the room was empty when we arrived. Before the night was over, another wayward traveler entered the mix — the very friendly and handsome "Kyle."

As much as I like to think of having random vacation sex, history has shown that this is just not something that is bound to happen with me. Some days, I wish I had a bit more bravado in that department. But I soon realize that to change that aspect of myself would mean being a different person altogether, I quickly let go of those thoughts. Chastity, however, had another idea.

For some reason, I blocked this memory from my mind. In my heavily medicated (I have a serious case of the flu going on) — and apparently incredibly pensive state, I was reminded of an incident from this year's formal.

During the course of the evening, I was approached by an associate of mine who decided to make a kind and predictable gesture, and pay me a compliment. As everyone was dressed in dress that night, it was an appropriate thing to do. Only, this was a compliment gone wrong.

This individual, who shall remain nameless (more for the sake of his wife than for him), proceeded to tell me how my appearance that evening was enough to make him question his 12 years of marriage, and that if he in fact weren't married, that I would have had to beat him off with a stick.

Now, I don't know what kind of a compliment he thought that was, but for me this was completely inappropriate and unacceptable. What made this guy think that this kind of talk was appropriate? Does he think that 12 years of matrimony gives him latitude to say whatever he wants?

Is it because I'm single? Is it because I went to this function without a date? Is it because he's an asshole who doesn't know how to behave in public? Would he dared to have said this if I had been accompanied by an "other" — significant or not?

The whole ordeal boggles the mind while simultaneously chaffing the soul.

It's interesting to go solo to an event. On the one hand, there are the people who wish they had followed suit and look at your freedom with a sort of envy. On the other hand, there are the people who look at you as if you are on the prowl — for their date.

This was also something I had to put up with.

As I floated around the room to chat with my friends, I noticed a few things. Some of these things were small — a glance, getting the once-over by the dates of my male friends, etc. Other acts were on a grander scale: women would make physical contact with their guy, grabbing the hand or an arm. If there was already contact, the grasp became tighter.

This kind of behavior went on for a majority of the evening. The worst of it was an instance where the wife thrust her body in the middle of a conversation as if she were shielding her husband from the treacherous tendencies of the preying single female.

It's not until times like this that I realize how much coupled women fear/loathe single women, though I have absolutely no idea why. It's not as if we are out to take their dates or break up their marriages. I just can't for the life of me figure out when we got such a bad rep.

Ironically, after getting to know me, most of the women told me how much they enjoyed meeting and talking with me. Go figure.

Ah, the spring formal — otherwise known to the best of cynics as "the Prom" — has come and gone. After a last-minute dash to find a new dress (I had the great misfortune of finding out that Sweeney Todd works at my friendly neighborhood dry cleaners and my dress was butchered), I am happy to report that I have survived the blessed event.

While this year's formal was less than noteworthy, I still managed to have a good time. Note to the readers: Bring the fun with you, and you will never have to worry about how lame an event is. It will merely serve as background chatter.

My decision to fly solo was indeed a good one, as I was able to come and go as I pleased, talk to whomever without feeling as if I was neglecting someone else, and just really kick back and enjoy myself.

A few friends were not as fortunate, for they succumbed to the pressures of bringing a date. During the course of the evening, when they were able to steal away, a couple of them mentioned feeling a bit burdened with their newfound responsibilities.

When you're the only person in the room your date knows, it tends to add an unnecessary amount of strain to an evening that is supposed to be enjoyable.

As I see it, going stag is really the only way to go.

I have been wondering this for quite some time. The mere mention of the word seems to make women everywhere cringe. Now, I will admit that I have head the word mentioned in passing and as a reference point in conversation, but never have I known the true meaning of the word as it is being used. For the definition, I turned to darling "Wiki":

"Cougar refers to an older woman, usually in her 40s who sexually pursues younger men in their 20s or early 30s."

Okay, so what?

Having read the definition and having thought through its connotations, I still don't know what the big deal is. Here's my theory: If a woman — whatever her age — finds a man and decides to make a move, rather than sitting around hoping that the man notices her, then this has to be a good thing. If the model comparison of this woman is a strong, sleek, beautiful and independent animal, then, what's to complain about? I mean, really, if women were referred to as jackals or hyenas, animals who hunt in packs or who are notorious scavengers, then I could see where there would be cause for alarm.

Women are quick to call men "dogs" and not bat an eyelash. Conversely, some women take the term "bitch" as a compliment. Why on earth does being called a "cougar" offend our sensibilities? I am failing to see the rationale behind this one.