Men: Spawn of the Devil?

I was chatting with a girlfriend recently, discussing the merits and foibles of men, when she proposed a most interesting theory: Men are the spawn of Satan.

Okay, yes I know it sounds harsh.

But it got me thinking about the dynamic between males and females. Generally, men are out to screw as many women as possible. Women typically want one man to adore and eat dinner with and get knocked up by. It's a matter of seed spreading vs. domestic devotion. Now you tell me who seems more angelic within those two stereotypes...

I don't want to make it seem like men really are demons. I know the human race would probably not have sustained itself if cavemen believed in monogamy. We were each built a certain way to carry out a certain responsibility. Men were meant to impregnate as many women as possible. But now, with the world's population growing out of control, isn't it time for the evolutionary pendulum to swing back in the other direction?

Or should we cut guys some slack and recognize that maybe it's not their fault? They were just designed a certain way and should be allowed to forever carry out their "duties."

I don't know. But I do know that in the battle between good and evil, I'm sure going to be more likely to root for a high school sweetheart-marrying man like my dad than a womanizer like George Clooney. Fortunately for George, a cute face and tight butt do a lot to detract from the wickedness...

Mending Fences

Break-ups suck. No bones about it. No matter what the circumstances—who breaks up with whom, whether it's amicable or nasty—it stinks to go through the parting process. And usually, it's easier to identify all of your partner's flaws than think about the good things they may have added to your life.

If they've wronged you in some way, it's especially easy to shine the spotlight on all their bad points and hate them for each and every trait. But is this really hurting them? Perhaps, if you two are still in contact and you berate them every time you speak. But more likely, carrying around that black ball of hatred is actually hurting you.

It's like poison in your system, and it will hold you back from the joy you deserve.

The best thing you can do is feel the pain to its fullest, process it and then let it go. This gets easier as each day passes. Memories grow fuzzy. Wounds begin to heal. The flowers in your life start to bloom again, and suddenly you can remember why you chose to spend weeks or months or years with that person.

We gain something from every relationship and every experience we have. Even if it's the lesson of, "I'll never do that again," it's still a lesson. It will work to our emotional benefit if we can acknowledge this.

I recently received a very complimentary and heartfelt email from an ex, and despite all the difficult things I went through with him, I was able to respond in kind and feel true gratitude for having met him.

It felt wonderful.

Man Mad Libs

Dating a [thirsty] [rhinoceros] is like [playing] [tennis].

Don't you just love mad libs? They were one of my favorites as a kid. In fact, I believe there was a time I was playing them in junior high and I laughed so hard I peed my pants. Too bad it's not as funny when you fill in the blanks about a guy.

It's so incredibly easy to plug up men's holes with your own artificial personality traits. Do they like Broadway musicals? Of course they do! Are they patient with you when you want to shoe shop for 45 minutes? Sure thing! Do they floss regularly? Every night! It's like they're a shiny, new counter top and you're smiling away with your caulk gun, laying perfectly smooth filler in between all the tiles. But at some point, the mildew of reality is going to come seeping through. So it's better to avoid filling in the blanks altogether.

This can be a difficult tendency to overcome. We always want the person we're dating to be spinetinglingly close to perfection. We always hope that their stats align with our wish list. But the bottom line is, it's better to let them reveal their own characteristics, in their own time, than assume they are [honest], [nice] to [pilgrims] and [enjoy] [hopscotch].

And the worst thing you can do is voice your concerns. Because inevitably, they'll try to tell you that they're a certain way when they're not. I learned this one firsthand last year. Actions speak louder that words every time. Remember that, no matter how tempting it is to pick up that [Play-doh] and cram it in the spaces between their [chopsticks].

More Sights from the Morning Commute

Every day on the way to work, I drive past a home for the elderly. Often, there are women strolling up the sidewalk behind their walkers. Sometimes, they're sitting under a tree, chatting and giggling in a circle like a group of teenage girls.

There's also a man who walks to the end of the block and stands on the corner to watch the traffic. He wears the same hat every day—a tweed-looking flat cap. And he always has his hands clasped behind his back. I'm fascinated by him. I am sure he's full of stories, and there have been days where I almost roll down my window and shout, "Get in!" He's a complete stranger, but I feel a great affection towards him and get excited each day that I see him.

This morning my heart melted when I saw him on the corner. Instead of stoically standing alone, keeping watch over the morning commuters, he was smiling and talking with one of the walker women. Even after she passed him to make her way back to the elderly home, he continued to smile.

Now I want to invite him for a ride even more than before.

Indulging Your Inner Child, Princess and Glutton

I had a long day today. I'm tired. So you know what I'm doing (besides typing on my keyboard) right now? I'm laying on the couch under a fleece blanket, eating milk duds, watching a Netflix movie and skimming my new Self magazine. Why? Because I can. And it feels soooo gooood.

It's so easy—especially this time of year—to wear yourself down to a nubby little lump of stress and exhaustion. You have to make it a priority to relax and do things that make you happy. Even if those things are completely silly.

You may not even realize what things you can be doing to feel better. You may need to stop and take a moment to reconnect with your childhood, narcissistic or super sweettoothy self.

So take stock: What makes you feel good? What would help wash away a crazy day or a tough break up or the stress of a last-minute Christmas shopping trip?

Here are a few things that work for me:

• Eating French toast and bacon for dinner.
• Picking up sushi take-out. Then eating it at my coffee table.
• Reading magazines from the back cover to the front.
• Laying on the floor in front of my heater, whilst talking to the cats.
• Wearing fuzzy socks and pj bottoms.
• Watching Sex and the City. If anyone can put things into perspective, it's Carrie Bradshaw.
• Making lists and balancing my checkbook.
• Eating ice cream for breakfast.
• Reading a good chic lit book in the bathtub.
• Browsing kitten and puppy videos on youtube. Yes, it sounds ridiculous—but believe me, you can't help but feel a little better after the 4th or 5th one...
• Taking a walk through the neighborhood to enjoy the Christmas lights.
• Going through the closet and putting together new outfits. Playing dress-up never gets old...
• Looking at old vacation pictures.

Take the time to indulge yourself with little things here and there, and the bigger stuff just might feel a bit easier to handle.

Sistas Before Mistas

We're all guilty of it: You meet a new guy, start dating, and suddenly you begin investing all your physical, mental and emotional assets into his stock. You can't help it—he's charming and funny and sexy. Definitely a hot commodity! But where does this leave your equally charming, funny, sexy and dependable-for-a-great-return-on-investment girlfriends?

Unfortunately, the answer is often: In the gutter. Or at least that's the way it may feel to them.

It seems that no matter how hard you may think you're trying to maintain the balance with your friends, your new man infatuation is going to creep into every interaction and potentially taint your girl time. Even if you're logging hours with the ladies, they'll know when he's on your mind and they're not. And we all know how quickly the "he did the cutest thing" stories can get old.

On the flip-side of all this, though, don't we owe it to each other—as devoted girlfriends—to try to be understanding when our gals have new guys? It may be rough on us—especially if we are unattached ourselves. But shouldn't we hearken back to our own days of couplehood and try to remember what it was like to be ecstatically consumed by someone new?

I think the duty falls on all of us to straddle both sides of the fence. Let's not drop one another by the wayside when we're in the throes of crushdom. But let's also try to be empathetic to each other during those first days of boy-inspired elation. Because really, there's enough love to go around for everyone, right?

Fingers and Palms

In college, I used to religiously watch the show My So Called Life. The relationship between Angela Chase (Claire Danes) and Jordan Catalano (Jared Leto) was completely mesmerizing. It began with secret makeout sessions in the high school's boiler room and eventually led to far more significant activities: like hand-holding.

One of my favorite Angela lines was, "What is holding hands?! What are hands?!"

I'm not entirely sure why I found this rumination so amusing. I guess because it acknowledged the emotional weight of such a seemingly small action. Why do people hold hands? And why does it feel like something so special when it happens?

Perhaps because it's a sort of declaration of solidarity. Holding hands isn't about physical pleasure the way a kiss is. It's a statement: We're in this together. It's a melding of palms and fingers that—when you look at it—almost makes it hard to see whose appendages belong to whom.

I can still remember what each of my boyfriends' fingers felt like laced between my own. I can even remember the moment a couple of them first grabbed my hand in public—the delight that one gesture elicited; the way it made me feel like it was us against the world. There's almost something magical about it.