Dating Diva

I get on kicks. Everyone around me knows this. My kicks sometimes have a theme, or sometimes they’re so impulsive that they take on a life of their own. Writing has always been a central theme to my kicks. Whatever it is that I want to pursue at the time, I’ll always find that I want to write about it afterwards.

Thankfully, most of my impulsive moments are healthy, non-embarrassing ones. The unhealthy are usually the ones that begin and end at my beloved Target. I go in for paper towels and come out with over $150 worth of jewelry, cardigans, ballet flats and skin care products.  As I do my walk of shame to the car lugging all the goodies, I ask myself, “Why? How could I let this happen?…Again?”

I’ll tell you how it happened. Those artful visual brand managers screw me everytime. In order to get to the necessities of my Target, I have to walk through the clothing area, shoe aisles, around the kitchen and bathroom supplies and through the electronics. There are obviously 50+ things that I never knew I’d need while taking the million mile march to even get close to what I came for. By the time I get my fingers on some napkins, it’s like getting to grandma’s house and finding the big bad wolf in her red cape with a hood. It’s already too late.

As I unload my fabulous new purchases into my car, the guilt subsides. Thankfully it’s completely gone before any thought of returning the items comes to mind.

And away we go.

“You’re a liar. Straight liar,” my friend, Kyle, said. “No way any girl who says she doesn’t really care about Valentine’s Day is telling the truth.”

I was shocked. Was I really the first girl to ever admit I’m not that into Valentine’s Day? And if so, am I breaking some pact I didn’t get the memo about keeping it a secret?

I can’t say I’ve always been like this. Let’s be honest, in high school when they sold carnations I secretly believed I would die if I didn’t receive one from the boy I liked at the time. Lucky for me and my mental sanity, I basically “dated” (AKA held hands with, had awkward silences on the phone with and used “hehehehe” way too much in AIM conversations with) the same person throughout that time period, so I pretty much had it in the bag every year.

I’m sure some readers will say it’s a “Hallmark holiday, intended to get consumers to dump loads of cash into products they would never buy on a regular basis and no one should play into it.” Yeah, we’ve all heard that a million times, jaded commenter.

But my question is: if this wasn’t so hyped up, would people respond to it the way they do?

“There is no such thing as Valentine’s Day without flowers, cards, candy and stuffed teddy bears, it just doesn’t exist then, at least not in my girl’s mind,” Kyle said jokingly when I asked him.

The main argument is that we know it no other way, just like other major holidays throughout the year.

Valentine’s Day starts with us as young children having our parents buy Valentine’s Day cards that we would address to all of our classmates and take in the next day to place in special pouches laid out on everyone’s desks in elementary school. In middle school and high school, we’re given a little more responsibility and able to choose who we want to give cards and gifts out to. Then comes college. Either you’re “too cool” to celebrate it, which means you’re trying to be a non-conforming cool kid, don’t have a significant other and/or frat party event planning and promoting has taken over your life or option C is that you’re so in puppy-love that you’ll go crazy with it.

I enjoy the concept of taking time out on a special day to show the person you care about just how much they mean to you. Life can be so crazy and hectic that showing someone just how you feel about them everyday can be swept to the side and replaced by other daily tasks.

So yes, if you have someone special, take the time out to tell them you care. Don’t go over the top. It IS a consumer holiday, and buying someone the world because of it doesn’t mean you love them anymore than giving them a hand-written card. In fact, I’m pretty sure a hand-written note will go a lot further than a stuffed dog that barks, “I RUVVVV you,” when you squeeze its paw.

I have to tell you though, I still don’t 100 percent buy into this whole you must have a Valentine to participate on Valentine’s Day thing. We’re putting way too much pressure on the other person to make us happy if that’s the case.

What day is the day that is marked specifically to love, care and cherish yourself and the life you’ve made? Which day have we marked on the calenders to take a moment and be proud of everything you’ve accomplished? Oh, that’s right. There isn’t a day like that.

We beat ourselves up everyday to get where we are. And a lot of the time we rarely get a thank you in situations that truly deserve more than those two words. We should find reason to throw a huge celebration for just surviving every single day in this insane world. Yet, we’re so worried about making other people happy that we forget about taking some time out to make ourselves happy. Kind of backwards, right?

It’s time to stop relying on other people to tell us that we’re amazingly fabulous.

I’m calling on all women (and men) to declare your day. A day where you go out and get something nice for yourself. Treat yourself to a dinner and movie of your choosing. Come back and eat some chocolate without worrying about how many laps you’ll have to run later to burn it off.

Now that’s the kind of day I can fully stand behind.

It is, afterall, the time of the year where love is overflowing. Why not keep a little of that love for yourself, you pretty young thing?

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I love the movie, “The Notebook.” I’m a hopeless romantic. I cry at weddings. I cry when my friends get hurt by life’s daily tumbles. I also cry when I watch Marley & Me and the Lion King — every single time.

I’m completely okay with all of this.

It’s what makes me, me. It’s something I’m never going to try and change. I”m comfortable with who I am, my faults included, and maybe it’s my willingness to wear my heart on my sleeve that is my biggest weakness.

Beyond being a caring person, I am also a storyteller. A quirky writer. A creative soul.

I view my world through a lens where I see situations for how they will later play out at the mercy of my pen, or through the unforgiving eye of my video camera, or through code into my Web site. This serves me well as a writer, but not as a sensitive girl.

This is because I view my relationships, regardless of type, through the same lens. But what kills me about this is I am only one character in these stories, just a single character. I can only move myself through them. The others’ future moves are just as mysterious to me as mine are to them. I don’t know the outcome. And in the end, the outcome is left in the other person’s hands – meaning I may never know exactly what will happen until it has already played out. You’ll never know exactly what people will say, do or feel. Even if you think you know all there is to know about someone, they’re still bound to surprise you. Especially when the plot thickens.

I guess to put it bluntly, everyone that we come across is a contributing author to our life story. We can only react to how they act towards us. I guess that’s where the phrase, “life is about the give and take,” came from.

At one point or another, we all wish that we could cheat at our own stories. Maybe flip to the last page to ensure that it will all turn out okay, or skim the words through a difficult time so that we didn’t have to feel and act out every aching, brutal moment of it.

But we can’t. These moments are what make us grown and learn as individuals.

I’m living my own story, but I’m not writing it.

The minor control-freak in me is positively terrified by that statement. I just need to trust that the authors of my story have my best interest in mind for me, also known as a happy ending. Because what I do have control of is what authors I surround myself with. I need to seek out and trust in the goodness of people. And I always need to live out my story, trying to make the right move at all times, regardless of what is thrown at me by others.

Deep breaths. It’s time to trust that it will all end up okay. Believe in all things good in this world. Because if it’s not okay, it’s not the end. And those are absolutely beautiful words to live by.

——

For more on Lisa, including fabulous DIY how-to’s, funny confessions and embarrassing realizations, you can check out her personal blog.

Follow Dating Diva’s daily adventures on Twitter: @LisaDiVirgilio

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Click. Click. Click.

Giggle.

Click. Click. Click.

The girl behind me at Starbucks is going crazy on her BlackBerry. And giggling every time a text message annoyingly rings in.

My obvious response? Sigh. She’s in l-u-s-t.

Thankfully, she’s with a friend who is quite inquisitive about this little situation we have on our hands so I’m about to get the full scoop. (And, fingers-crossed, material for another column. Score!)

Dating Diva’s Note: Despite what your mother has told you, eavesdropping on strangers in your same age-range is one of the most delightful things to do while waiting in the longest line of your life for your first caffeine fix of the day.

“He’s amazing. He’s an architect at…I forget the firm…but yeah. He is so cool and just bought his own four-bedroom house in West Hartford and has a great car and really likes that expensive sushi place that I like in Madison,” said BlackBerry Worshipper.

Her friend, who I’ve now dubbed Voice of Reason, then asked, “Awesome, so basically you just know how big his bank account is. But is he funny? What does he like to do when he’s not paying his mortgage?”

If we weren’t in public (read: if I wasn’t so close to ordering my beyond delicious latte) I would have promptly turned around, hugged Voice of Reason, and then asked her to be my new best friend.

“Well,” BlackBerry Worshipper began to answer. “I don’t really know, he likes to eat sushi. And text, obviously…but seriously though, who cares? He’s secure and stable and is good at life.”

And then, I vomited in my mouth a little.

Just kidding.

Not really.

Oh, my little technology loving friend. I’ve got news for you.

We as a generation are entering the stages of our lives where we are no longer judging each other’s success rate by how many friends we have or how great we are at certain activities. Now, it’s about the job and the paycheck. And somehow, in BlackBerry Worshipper’s mind and I’m sure many, many others judging by other conversations I’ve heard, the bigger the paycheck the more “stable and secure” the person.

No.

No. No. No.

This couldn’t be more wrong.

Remember Freddy Frat Guy that was able to do forty-second keg stands and he still believed that after he was able to hold an “intellectual” conversation about how liberals were ruining the world? Yeah, he grew up to be Freddy-the-big-fat-check-financier.

How about Silly Suzie who you could always count on for the best weekend stories of air-headed debauchery? She’s now running a law firm but still goes out every weekend to “keep the name alive“. Still think that just her job makes her absolutely amazing at life decisions? Probably not.

Everyone, but women especially, need to stop looking for stable people by searching through their wallets. While yes, it is nice to have a partner who you won’t have to lend your hard-earned green to so he can cover his electric bill…and heat bill…and bass guitar payment that will someday make him rich, you also shouldn’t consider a man who can cover his bills a completely stand-up citizen.

Madoff, anyone?

Maybe in the down economy, anyone that can pay for their bills is considered a well-off person, both financially and emotionally. But money, as we’ve been preached to about, is not everything.

I’m not about to get all crazy feminist on you in this post, but a majority of us women at this stage in the game have access to ways to better ourselves than just reaching into men’s wallets. That’s all I’m saying.

Get to know the guy beyond the coin before you rule that he‘s a great life-achiever. Or at least know his favorite color, BlackBerry Worshipper. You’re killing other quality divas’ reputations with your shallow success-quality scale.

——

You can follow Dating Diva on Twitter: @LisaDiVirgilio

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Well, it’s about that time. I’m packing my bags to head to New York for a great career opportunity that will also bring me closer to my family and friends. But don’t worry, I’ll still be writing about my own and my friends mishaps in relationships and life because God knows that writing supply will never dwindle.

With the unbelievable amount of pros that come with this next big step, one huge con is slowly setting in.

The move will take me away from one person that I really care about.

Superman has meant a lot to me in the past couple months. We’ve been through more than I think any two people should go through in such a short period of time — but we always seemed to do it with grace, especially since he has a touch of Martha Stewart in him. He’s from Connecticut, should we expect any less?

I just want to publicly thank Superman for all the time and energy he’s given to me. I know and accept that I’m quirky, outrageous, odd and sometimes downright unbelievable, but for some reason or another, he can handle it — whatever “it” may be. And that, my friends, is a feat all within its own.

Superman has been the one person who has crossed my path in a long time that instantly I knew I could trust. Maybe it was because he spent hours figuring out how my crazy little life stayed afloat when all signs pointed to it sinking, or because slowly but surely he was willing to share some of his life with me. Or, maybe it’s because he reads this blog which could basically be an ever-evolving peep-show into my head. But on second thought, I don’t think he gets that much advice from this blog as he does usage for bedtime reading, as on more than one occasion he’s ripped a post of mine apart showing me that maybe I don’t know everything.

DISCLAIMER: It still holds true that I do, for the most part, know most things. (Source: Me.)

Either way, thank you, Superman, for:

• showing me that life doesn’t have to be stressful. And when it is, deep breaths will help.
• how to place all the stress of your entire day in a muscle-knot in your back. It’s efficient.
• reminding me when I need it that no matter how much work you do, sometimes it won’t be appreciated. That’s why you need to appreciate yourself and not worry about what others think or say.
• getting upset when I forget to do things…like eat.
• putting up with my messiness, and even helping me to clean.
• giving me catch-phrases to use…and claim that I came up with. I did come up with “the dubs,” which is epic.
• telling me that things DON’T happen for a reason. Instead, you make the decisions and actions and have no one to blame but yourself – so always do the right thing.
• making me sit back and enjoy the ride and not spend all my time thinking about the destination point. “Where are we going?” “We’re going.”

You’ve definitely impacted my life and I hope that I’ve given you at least 24 percent of what you’ve given me. I see you.

Has someone like this come into your life when you’ve least expected it? Leave a comment and give them the credit they deserve.

I’m positive I’m not speaking for just myself when I say I can’t take people with emotional Facebook statuses anymore. There, I said it.

A song lyric here or there is fine, but when you’re spilling out the most detailed description of your recent break-up with direct quotes to boot, honey, even Nancy Drew doesn’t care about picking up what you’re putting down.

Have a little dignity, will you?

These statuses will not get the person back or give you the final say. It will ultimately make them hop on the first sane train away from you. I have enough male friends to know these statuses don’t hurdle any guy through a sleepless guilt-trip. In fact, they’re showing them to their friends and everyone is getting a good laugh at your expense.

You’re basically throwing up a billboard sign screaming, “I’m crazy enough to let everyone know just how crazy I really am.” And your chances of having this seen are much better than those shelling out the thousands of dollars to be displayed on I-95. Think of yourself as your own PR rep; is that really how you want to market yourself?

Everyone knows that mystery is intriguing. So when you’re going through a rough patch and the other person involved (plus 1,000 of your closest acquaintances) doesn’t know your every emotion and move, the ball is in your court.

With the emergence of social media, everyone has been put on somewhat of a level playing field. Celebrities are interacting with their fans on Twitter and we’re vicariously living through our friends by stalking Facebook photos of their recent vacations. So, it’s understandable to be confused about what is personal and what is not, especially since Facebook lends itself to airing your entire life on it like one hot-mess broadcast.

But take it from me, no one wants to see that.

You’re making people uncomfortable/making yourself a shoe-in for the winner of “Who’s Lost Their Mind This Week.”

Stop. Please stop.

——

Follow Dating Diva’s daily adventures on Twitter: @LisaDiVirgilio

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Sometimes, even at the ripe age of 23, I look back on my dating life and say to myself, “What was I thinking? No, seriously, what?”

I’ve always been the kind of girl to be in a long-term, committed relationship. I’ve never had flings, or one-night stands, or any of those things that people cringe at when they think back on their college experience.

At the very most, I’ve had three serious relationships in my lifetime so far.

In fact, I was, for the most part, with the same person throughout college. We broke up after realizing that we weren’t as strong as we thought we had been all along.

That shocking realization came once I was accepted into graduate school out of state. He and I didn’t live together while I was in New York, but decided with my acceptance we should take the plunge and just do it.

The step would move us in together after being a serious couple for over three years. To top it off, we’d be moving in together in another state almost five hours from everyone we knew.

It was definitely a make or break situation. Obviously, it was a break.

After that, I made a few mistakes, dating some people who, looking back on it, really weren’t worth my time or up to my speed.

I guess my first clue in one of those minor disasters would have been when I was asked by someone to “keep the intellectual conversation in the newsroom.”

Yeah. I know. Winner.

But that’s another story for another time.

And then the world stopped. I thought I’d found the out-of-this world, meant-to-be, soul-mate love with someone I had known for years and had come back into my life out of no where and when I needed it the most. The only problem was he now lived about 1,000 miles away after moving back home to Miami when he was finished with college.

But it turned out that didn’t matter. In the short time that we were, we worked through the distance seamlessly with trips, constant communication and what we thought at the time was a perfect connection.

What could go wrong?

So, I made my final trip to Miami before I was to move down there. My seemingly perfect real-life fairy tale was about to begin.

Basically, I was just sizing up the joint before I packed my bags and I should have come back with boxes and estimated prices for U-Haul trucks.

Instead, I came back from the trip with souvenir nightclub matches and a wake-up call.

It took a while for me to realize I wasn’t to blame for everything going haywire and I never really wanted what was there. Instead, I listened to everything that was said to me and mimicked it.

I’ve realized it’s really easy to say things you don’t mean, conjure up feelings you wouldn’t naturally have, and play it day-by-day like you need something in your life when you really don’t.

I guess to quote Taylor Swift, “when somebody tells you they love you, you believe it.” Unfortunately, I didn’t have the excuse of only being 15 years old at the time.

Which leads me to now.

I’ve stopped searching for that ultra-commitment, because at this age, I shouldn’t be in something that could prevent me from being me. I barely even know who me is at this point in the game and I definitely don’t want to stunt whatever I could become.

It’s finally time to take my mom’s advice and just enjoy what I have in front of me. I need to stop searching for something better. Like mom says: The life of a 20-something, both professionally and personally, is what we all reminisce about as we grow older and accept more responsibility.

Another piece of advice my mom has always told my brother and me is to stop looking for fireworks. Things that explode quickly and overtake you will just as quickly fizzle out. You need to be able to explore, learn and laugh with someone in order to build a solid foundation in a relationship.

(Hi mom, yes, I was listening to you all this time. Surprise. I can’t say the same for my brother, but that’s why I’m secretly your favorite. I know, it’s cool.)

I have who I need, what I need and what I want in my life. That’s enough reason to stop searching and start enjoying.

Plus, maybe it’s the ultra-commitment right off the bat that ruins it, because what I have going for me right now is pretty fantastic.

——

You can follow Dating Diva on Twitter: @LisaDiVirgilio

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I have some friends, who, bless their hearts, don’t know when to quit it.

One in particular, who we’ll call “Sue,” met a man not too long ago and they went out together on a few dates. From what she had told me, they really seemed to hit it off.

They began to text and call each other regularly and everything seemed fine.

Then, one night, he had to cancel a date. He had some issues at work, but rescheduled within the same phone call, so, Sue thought everything was fine.

As she prepared for the rain check date, she received a text message this time saying the date wouldn’t work out. However, not five minutes later, Sue’s mystery man sent a follow-up text asking for a date next week, and she agreed.

And as you could have probably guessed, yet another cancellation this time around – only to make it worse it was 30 minutes before meet-up time, with another promise to rain check. Did I mention it would take my friend at least 45 minutes to get to the date location? So basically, 30 minutes of a wasted round trip at that point.

Yeah, I know.

In between these dates, the text messages and calls became scarce, and when they did happen, the conversation and connection seemed to be much more shallow than during previous interactions.

This is where I would have drawn the line.

Sue made this man’s life too easy by allowing for him to constantly cancel on her with little notice. Yet, she was like a puppy, jumping to accept the next date.

No man who enjoys spending time with a woman would continuously break date plans.

Forget the J’Adore Dior perfume my friend was rocking, what she was exuding was pure desperation.

I understand there are exceptions. And if you feel the excuse is legitimate, then that’s fine.

But, if he cancels a date more than twice in a row, well, chances are he’s just not that into you.