BORN SINGLE

My Try at Dating as a Civilian

Last night I went out looking to meet men – not for another Match.com story, not for my next book.  I was just hoping to experience the old girl meets boy thing and have a little fun.  Deciding to practice what I preach I signed up for 8minutedating. Their events consist of equal numbers of men and women rotating through randomly determined 8-minute encounters.

This opportunity was a little unusual in that it catered to singles from 35-49.  They capped the women at 42, and I’m a teensy bit older but it’s not like anyone’s checking IDs.  Skylark, a relaxed, low-key lounge in the Mission was hosting the scene, with the required DJ spinning tunes after the sun goes down.

Considering that a dating study of the Bay Area once revealed that the average resident has fewer than five dates a year.  I’d be beating the odds by having “8 great dates in one night!”  To really set the intention within myself I decided not to leverage my press connections for a complimentary admission and paid the $35 full price.

I registered early to secure myself a seat for the musical chairs dating and was very excited when finally a couple of days before the event I got my confirmation email.  Now what was I going to wear?

After a day spent at my computer putting the finishing touches on the fall catalog for bebe. I had about an hour to get myself into some great clothes and out the door to meet my men. 

First I grabbed my best fitting pair of jeans.  Next I pulled and discarded a half dozen tops on my bed – too boring, too much cleavage, doesn’t fit right –gotta look great from the waist up I’m always telling potential daters.  I finally selected an animal print cami to wear under a linen safari jacket. And I make a mental note to return a couple of those tops on the bed with the tags still on them.  I’ve got just enough time to put some curls in my hair, brush on a bit of mascara and the best blush ever – Nars (Taj Mahal which my actress sister turned me onto) before I dash out the door. 

Leaving behind my typical interviewing tools: digital recorder, camera, notepad and pen.  Earlier my friend, Darryl had called from his vacation in Alabama to remind me “you’re going on dates, not to work.”  We agreed I’d be a fashion writer rather than a singles author for the evening.

Park the car; pound the pavement in the heels I don’t generally wear. Step into the bar; get my nametag and see lights, cameras – and wow ABC television anchor Spencer Christian! Smile you’re on cupid camera!  The new ABC magazine show “The View from the Bay” is taping an episode here tonight!  What’s “The Last Single Girl in the World” to do?  Blow her cover and grab the opportunity to kiss and tell all about her new book?  Or discreetly date undercover as a runway reporter and hope opportunity comes knocking again from TV land?

Work both angles, of course!  The author of “The Single Girl’s Manifesta” gives Spencer her card and promises to follow up with his producers for an appearance on the show.  “Jerusha 507” chats up the guys and is busted by “James 606” who charges, “ I saw you make a beeline for Spencer. What do you really do?”

I had a blast and yes, I did meet a couple of guys I’m hoping want to see me again.  My first date was with Cliff, an engaging Asian graphic designer, who appealed to my aethetsic tastes.  I admit to being stumped by Khai who asked "What do want out of a relationship?"  I immediately felt like I hadn't done the most important part of my mate shopping homework assignment.  I stumbled through an answer about how I wanted to be in a couple that other people said, "hey, there's such a great couple!"  I introduced my date Ivan to Mojitos during the break.  Had too few minutes with M and later we explored our mutual interests over more mojitos at the bar after the event (exchanged number totally against the rules). And my 8^th date was on camera with the very charming Mr. Christian. (He's really as handsome as he looks on TV!) Watch for our date on air later this month!

How to MAYBE Get the Guy

Ok I’m fresh from the islands (Singapore and Thailand) and trying to readjust my body clock last night when my phone starts ringing off the hook with well-meaning friends trying to bring me back into the hotbed world of dating.  As the local singles expert they don’t want me to miss the latest effort in curing millions of us of our single status.

Watching that new show was really depressing for me the self-proclaimed “last single girl in the world” on several levels.  First as single women are we really that clueless that we need to be led by our designer wardrobes with such brain nummers as “smile! Smile!”  While we’re euphemistically ‘dropping the hanky” to start a conversation.  “Hi!” always works for me.

If dating really is such a painfully clumsy ritual filled with so many trials and tribulations – I mean why bother?!  Meeting new people, going out with someone who likes to do the same things you do, laughing at ridiculously non-funny jokes; that’s what we singletons do.  Those pro-marriage folks must sponsor this show.

Lastly I personally felt totally rejected once again by the media powers that be.  Not one little chocolate drop in da house!  It’s enough that in this decade of increased interracial dating that I’m reminded that the “race doesn’t matter” attitude means white men and Asian women, black men and white women; not getting together with a black woman.  I know it was kind of a silly show but it would have been nice to have been asked to their little mating party.

Slutting in Singapore

My third day of exploring the city – all by my lonesome – I’m taking a break from the heat & humidity and dash inside the lobby of the Marriott Hotel, an oasis of air conditioning.  I glance around and see this gorgeous guy talking on the phone.  Tall, dark, handsome, designer-clad Indian dude who moves with an American like swagger. I’m hooked. Before I can catch myself I smile at this handsome stranger.

The cross-cultural mating ritual begins as he follows me to the ladies room and when I come out he makes his pitch.  We sit and chat for a few minutes – he’s making a hotel reservation for his brother who’s retuning home for a visit from Boston. Next he’s suggesting a cool shower a deux and a relaxing afternoon.

C.J., 38, (that's his name) - short for "canned juice" he jokes and I think kind of like your sense of humor but it’s hard denying his good looks and easy manner. Like most of the population here he’s an alluring mix - half Indian, half Singaporean - raised in Malaysia. He honed his flirting skills as a flight steward for Singapore Airlines (gosh I’m really loving this airline, full-service in the skies and on the ground). He’s now in real estate- a major preoccupation in this never-stop-building city-state. A major flirt he continuously compliments me and keeps suggesting we hang out for the afternoon with a bottle of wine - just get comfortable and get to know each other –

I beg off I mean what kind of easy American girl does he think I am- ok, ok I’ll admit it as a large black woman I’m definitely wooed by all the attention. Then I start to realize that a lot of the women here are petite, but a fair number are fleshy like moi and you don’t see a lot of thin emaciated blondes being worshipped around here. Glad I left that back home in the USA.

Strolling hand in hand, C.J. walks me to the MRT (the city’s underground rail system) and we agree to meet later at my hotel. He kisses me on the cheek and I can’t help noticing what soft lips he has…

I spend the afternoon enthralled at the Singapore Art Museum – current exhibit

Fiction@Love

is a must see along with the Diaspora-driven "Home" and the commemorative exhibit of Singapore born artists. See I’m not so shallow as to only appreciate fine shopping and finer men.

Promptly at 9pm CJ rings my room. Wearing my H & M "smoking red" wrap dress (thank you Dian Von Furstenberg for making a grand comeback), which shows my cleavage and shape to maximum advantage, I descend in a cloud of anticipation to the lobby. When the elevator doors open C.J. exclaims "Darling, you look like a millions bucks – wow!" Slips his arms around me and gently kisses me on the lips. He’s holding a bottle of wine and utters a hushed "let’s go to your room."

I firmly lead him to the lobby bar where we settle comfortably on the luxe couch, listening to the jazz trio with the Jackie Chan meets Frank Sinatra vibe. We sip bar cocktails as the Ritz charges $100 Singapore dollars corkage fee ($60 USD) - can you imagine!

Well I'm ashamed to say (but don’t regret) necking in the lobby of that five star hotel while a handsome stranger whispers many flattering somethings in my ear. I think we might be doing something illegal - public displays of affection are frowned upon here- but this guy has the most amazing lips and incredible kissing technique! 

Alas all that soochingn came with a price as I ended up having to pick up the tab since the hotel didn't accept debit cards and he hadn't enough cash – bad form I thought– although the giggling hotel staff the next day said I shouldn’t be so hard on him.

Like clockwork, he called first thing the next morning – "Darling – call me! " and again throughout the day. Sorry to say I’ll only be seeing this dreamboat in never, never land. As for the rest of my stay in this singular city, I took a pass - there are plenty of fish - I mean men on this island. . .

Going Solo in Singapore

After two amazing book signings at the W San Francisco and W San Diego – this single girl author figures she deserves an indulgent vacation – first royalty check in hand I scoop up a deal from my favorite travel newsletter – www.travelzoo.com. Flying solo ain’t too shabby when www.globotours.com can get you there on the best ever Singapore Airlines plus a posh at the Ritz Carlton Singapore for $1100!

First trip abroad in forever, best single girlfriend begged off at the last moment and so I boarded the plane all by lonesome for the far Far East. . .

At the new SF Airport international terminal – Asian cutie & I discuss the feasibility of the tech chic vending machines – does that Ipod in the slot cost more or possibly less? You forgot yours at home –think I’ll just grab another at the airport… Yes- it seems kinda cool to say I got mine outta a vending machine. After doing the math we realize it’s the same and after parting company I realize that’s his girlfriend giving me the evil eye.

19.5 hours to go ---- on the plane I befriend my fellow passengers – Korean grad student returning home for summer vacation, an Indian woman flying home to Bombay after visiting her daughter in Sunnyvale and couple of Asian technopreneurs – bound for India - no drinking buddies here.

At baggage claim on the other side I meet an American white dude who’s stopping in Singapore for the legendary epicurean delights (foodie heaven) and then off to visit family for a couple of months in Bali. We’re destined to meet later on the streets of Singapore when I’m lost and confused on the streets of the city…

My first day I’m reacquainted with my body at the spa – what a lovely re-entry…The hotel staff is pretty amazed that I’m traveling alone – Singapore is perfect for solo female travelers – best shopping and safe to explore even at night. I’m positively amazed that other than the couple on the plane I haven’t seen another back person walking around nor will I during the fours days I’m there. I’m treated like a returning a princess – I chalk it up the city’s cosmopolitan way of being.

What luck I’ve landed in shop-till-you-drop-land just in time for GSS – The Great Singapore Sale – island wide discounts at every store big and small! I decide to tackle the block after block shopping centers on the infamous Orchard Road – window after window of designer boutiques and glass & steel temples of temptation beckon – I shop till I drop at one of the outdoor cafés lining the boulevard.

The live music draws me in. A casual trio playing guitars sensuously like the slack key artists of my youth in Hawaii – their repertoire skips from Los Lobos to Kelly Clarkson to Cat Stevens and Pearl Jam – mellow music to soothe my tired feet– rather than standing in the long taxi ques.

I grab my fifteen seconds of fame with the boys in the band www.catsinthecradle.com and score one their not-yet-released CDs. If you’re ever in paradise – Singapore – stop by for a cooling cocktail at Nude Bar (part of the Indochine chain of upscale eateries – make sure you go to the ladies room where the sinks sit atop a coral reef aquarium).

The friendly locals will make you smile and you’ll soon forget that you’re traveling solo…

The Wedding Planner - Week One

“The Last Single Girl Ties the Knot for Online Couple” that’s my headline on this Valentine’s Day eve.   I’ve agreed to stand in as the wedding planner for two close friends who are getting married this summer.  Originally they asked if I would assist the bride’s mom and a bridal consultant.  But after interviewing several professionals they hadn’t found one who they clicked with on terms, price, and their idea of how to get hitched.

Yesterday we met for brunch in Oakland at the Cuckoo’s Nest near the Jack London Square waterfront.  The idea isn’t as crazy as it sounds – I have been married before (I hosted 125 people at my destination wedding in Hawaii) and have quite a bit of event planning experience (8minuteDating.com speeddating parties, Stanford Shuffle – annual brunch for several hundred single alums - ok albeit a lot of it for singles).  But I’m feeling quite up to the challenge.

My two friends met online at eHarmony. (I won’t divulge their names since I’m not sure they want everyone to know ).  They’re one of those kissey-face-we’re -so-in-love couples.  He’s a brother who wanted to marry a black woman and I suggested he try this particular online service.  Just like in the ads he worked in Alameda and she lived there.  They’re perfect for each other and they probably never would have met otherwise. 

In between smooches they describe their wedding to be. Under pressure from wedding consultants, family and “isn’t that how you’re supposed to do it” thinking they’d planned on an outdoor ceremony where they’ll be married by a close friend.   The reception will be a formal sit-down lunch at the Dunsmuir House and Gardens in Oakland.  Sounded pretty boring to me, two entrees: breast of chicken and poached fish, a champagne toast and everyone’s back in their cars on the way home.

“What really matters to you about your wedding? What do you want it to look like?  What are your favorite movie wedding scenes? Been to anyone else’s wedding you really loved?”  I prodded.

‘Well, Jerusha what I’m really concerned about is money – I don’t want to go over budget….” Said the groom immediately.

“Forget price – let’s blue sky it for a moment,” I insisted.

“Hhhmmm. We went to this really cool wedding of a couple of friends of ours, remember that honey,” began the bride stroking the face of her man.

“Yeah, baby, where it was at their house in the backyard.  They set out tables and chairs.  Everyone was standing around chatting, eating, drinking, and having a good time.  That’s what I want our wedding to be like,” finished the groom planting a big kiss on his cutie.

After an emotional three-hour meal we finally settle on an Afro-Cuban Garden Party as the theme for the celebration.  They’ll celebrate their Caribbean and South American ties with spicy décor and Tapas bar style catering.  We’ll add black California winemakers to the mix since many if their guests will be traveling from the East Coast for the nuptials.  We head to Target where we load up on the latest bridal magazines and find some capiz shell chargers that will make shimmering table centerpieces. 

Their homework: Re-interview caterers and wedding photographers with the new plan in mind.  Set up a time to revisit the site with me in tow.

Mine: Track down the hot Latin band I heard at a recent singles event and see if they do weddings and find a salsa dance teacher.  They’re taking lessons before the event and will offer lessons to their guests at the reception. And invest in some lovey-dovey repellant.

Friday Night - Alone & Alright

Yes - it's TGIF time. It's 11pm and I'm doing my usual Friday night thing. Not hitting the happy hours, or busting the clubs.  No this single girl is quietly absorbed in her "end-of-the-week exercise."

I realize I've gotten into the habit of pursuing a special interest each Friday night.  Some pleasurable pursuit that only I'm allowed to enjoy, solely for my own entertainment. Last week it was devouring shelter magazines and designing the interiors for my new condo.  The week before I sorted my way-more-than-is-necessary shooz collection and ordered three more pairs online.  After a week of doing whatever my writing clients demand by day and hitting the manic singles social scene at night, I revel in my guilty little secret diversion.

Tonight I'm just starting the first step in my handmade Valentine's Day card project.  Every year I play Cupid for all of my single friends.  While waiting for the ink to dry on the mailing envelopes, I surfed the web and found the latest love facts from the U.S. Census.   192 million Valentine's Day cards are exchanged on this hearty occasion.  And $13.5 billion worth of Cupid's currency - chocolate was shipped last year to satisfy chocoholic cravings.  I've got a private stash for emergencies: Trader Joe's French truffles and I just discovered Vosges Chocolates.  Hmmmm - heavenly!

Not promising any of the sweet stuff but if you email me your name and address; I'll send you a personal invitation to "Be Mine" this V-Day.

A VERY BUZZED 2006

Cheers everyone!

        Pinch me! Last week was fully buzzed for me as an author.  A story came out in the New York Daily News mentioning my blog which I don’t write consistently and which didn’t mention my book but did contain a link to my website so I guess it’s all good.  Great story on why the marketing mavens are turning their substantial talents on the singles space.  Check it out.

My singles story appeared alongside Dr. Phil’s advice on Match.com’s very stylish magazine site Happenmag.com.  Oprah, here I come! I’m currently working on my next piece on the etiquette of interracial dating.  If you have something to say, send me mail.

Wow, I ended the week with my first book event of the year at Barnes & Noble, Jack London Square. I was on a panel with 2 other local authors.  Before the event Phillip Siddiq interviewed me for his Bay Area television variety show.  Look for Phillip & I do to do more on-air duos, we laughed and teased our way to a great show.

Thanks to the cast of thousands who attend the signing – I was a little nervous, but just seeing all my friend and their husbands and their kids confirmed that being single was the right choice for me (no I’m only joking!) My single friends and the cool strangers who joined me in reading stories from my book those were the best moments ever.

All of you made my book the #1 in sales for the week at that location!  And yes for those of you who didn’t get a book, the store will receive a new shipment shortly.

And now I’ve been checking the newsstands every day for the February issue of Diablo Magazine, which will include a mini story on my book and I.  As the requests for media appearance roll in for Valentine’s Day, I’m feeling very lucky to be The Last Single Girl in the World!

The One, Little Ones & The 2005 Grand Finale!

My friend D. calls. He's trying to juggle New Year's Eve plans with four separate women: the one he's just met who he's sure is his new found soulmate; the woman who's interested in him but he's not real hot on her but who knows where it might go? and the cousin of a friend who's just landed in town that he dated awhile ago.  And last but not least his four- year old daughter who's his for the weekend because her mother is out of town.

I offer advice for the first three but I hit the wall with the last one, the tiny love of his life.  "How about your mother?" I ask. "She's got midnight service at church," he responds.  "Well...how about calling K. and L. and letting her spend the night with their kids?" I say remembering her favorite playmates.  "Oh, yeah, I called them, they think it's a great idea.  They want to get a babysitter and get back by nine to welcome the New Year with the kids," he answers.  Not quite what D. had in mind for jumpstarting his love life in 2006.

Being a SWNK - single woman no kids - I run out of options pretty quickly.  I mean prime babysitters have been booked for weeks.  Then D. adds the next layer of complexity.  Two of the women have children as well that need chaperones for the evening. Right now I'm thinking group slumber party. Can't wait to call D. in 2006 and find out how his night turns out!

I do have an answer for the other end of the year dilemma. After wondering where you'll be going New Year's Eve night and then successfully determining what you'll be wearing, it seems the most stress-filled moment of the year involves figuring out who'll you'll be kissing at midnight. I say grab the default single guy - KISS THE WAITER!

Holiday Jitters in Singledom!!!

Feeling a bit Scroogey with my blog – but hey I’ve been spreading good will towards MEN through email – read the messages from my Secret Santas. . .

He says:

I got a good laugh about the email you sent on guys who stutter.  Too funny.  Women have no idea how much pressure the guys are under in that situation and how much practice it takes to get with getting rejected and coming back for more.

I say: 

True Dat!

He says:

“There is an interesting paradox in dating that has always fascinated me. The ones who are the smoothest best dater types are the ones with way too many women and the good guys may not be as good at it as the smooth folks. 

Your stutter comment really highlights that phenomenon.  I did some dating research on a casual basis at Stanford and was intrigued to find the “Dog syndrome.”  In fact I started writing a book "Doggie Style" to address it. 

The booked focused on the above paradox in that there were all of these really attractive black women on campus going after the same few dudes.  All of the women would talk about how the guy is a dog etc... And all the women were still after the same dudes.  Hence if you were on the dog plan all the women seemed to be after you if not- little or no play.  Even seems like a primitive nature thing going on there.

I say:

Woof! Woof!  This might relate to that other “scientific” study I heard about on why the dogs love bitches.  Matchmaking made in. . .

Gotta exit this conversation for a much more pressing dating dilemma that lands in my inbox the next day:

She wrote:

Okay dating buddies, I had a fun date last Wednesday with a guy.  Exchanged a couple emails with him saying he had a great time and wants to spend some more time with me over the holidays.  He suggests dinner sometime and I say okay, but now I haven't heard from him since Friday.  I'm not sure if I should send him another email or not.  I'm worried about sounding whiney if I say something like, "haven't heard from you."  Does that seem like a long time to not hear from someone who is supposed to be interested?

I advise:

Ok - it's only Tuesday - not even Tuesday night!  Relax - it's the holiday season we all have many more commitments than usual - this goes along with my philosophy that if he hasn't called it's not about you - meaning it's not that he's not interested, doesn't like you, etc - he's just got a life - yeah! - sometimes we forget that little fact ; ) - Since you both had a great time - I'd give it at least a week - men just have a different clock - when they say I'll call tomorrow - they actually mean a week from tomorrow –

I'm also finding that a lot of single guys are a little "depressed", or "down" this holiday season - I think men don't have as many emotional connects as women, don't make as many plans to enjoy the holidays - so he could be scared of feeling too needy - nothing wrong with sending him a "holiday cheer email" towards the end of the week if you haven't heard from him - he's either interested and will think you're thoughtful

or...he's just doesn't get how wonderful you are - in the meantime make sure you flirt with all the other cute, friendly guys out celebrating the season!

She confesses:

Oiy!! You were right.  Heard from him today and it sounds like he's swamped at work.  Pretty funny how my common sense disappears when I like someone.  I'm really hoping this one works since I haven't had a boyfriend in a long time.  But of course, all other new comers this season are welcome!

I celebrate:

Congratulations!  You made it to the other side of the dating minefield!

"The Dating Stutter" Epidemic

With the holiday season comes winter colds and other chills, look out for another virus prevalent among men around the bay, “The Dating Stutter.”

Now that my new book, “The Single Girl’s Manifesta”, is out, I’m getting a lot of questions about the dating scene – or lack thereof  – here in the Bay Area.  Although sometimes I feel as clueless as the rest of you – I mean, who can claim to have male/female bonding rituals all figured out? 

The more things change, the more they are the same.  At a party recently I gathered in the kitchen with a couple of twenty-something black women and compared notes as several brothers looked.

“Out here, it’s like guys don’t even know what’s up!” one of them offered.

“Yeah, they see a fine sister and they’re like  ‘Hi, uh … like, uh … would you … can we … there’s this thing happening … well uh … check you later’ and you’re like, what was that?  I mean are you going to ask me out or what?” says the other one, adding fuel to fire.

“It’s ‘the dating stutter,’ ” I explained as the resident dating expert. I think it’s a particular West Coast phenomenon. And not only do they “stutter” when they talk, they stutter when they act as well. “It seems guys out here are just so relaxed.  Want to keep everything nice and easy, they can’t string the words together to ask for the definitive night out!”

“Oh yeah, you got that right – it’s like after they walk away, you’re thinking, what was that?” says the first one, shaking her head from side to side. 

“Now men on the East Coast, they get in there real quick-like,” the second one adds, making a sliding motion with her body. “There’s the ‘Hello gorgeous, what’s your name? How about you and me …’ You say one word to them in response and they think ‘Yes! I’m in!’ and they slide ride in with the date move. If you say ‘not Friday.’  They’ll be like, ‘well girl, get your calendar out and let’s see what works.’ They have a firm intention of getting a date. Guys here lack intention.”

So how ’bout it? Is “the dating stutter” another East Coast/West Coast thing?  Do guys here not know how to close the deal? Let me know what’s up on the dating scene so I can stop the misinformation!