Online Dating

Anjelika and Wanda Discuss

- Online Dating
- Anjelika's Wedding Date
- Flirting
- Anjelika's three dates
- Why Men Marry Some Women and Not Others

Why Men Marry Some Women and Not Others

Why Men Marry Some Women and Not Others

About 8 years ago I bought this book called, Why Men Marry Some Women and Not Others by John T Malloy

At the time I bought it I wasn’t interested in getting married. I bought it because I figured one day I’d want to get married so it’s best to have this knowledge about being a marriageable woman. Every two years I re-read this book. And now that I’m focusing on finding a husband I thought it was the right time dust this book of the bookshelf.

“Why Men Marry Some Women and Not Others” uses empirical data to draw its conclusions; meaning instead of coming up with a few hair-brained theories, the book is based off a number of qualitative studies conducted in a controlled environment by the author. The author and his research team interviewed over 3,000 couples coming out of marriage license bureaus in the United States. The results of the study reflect the statistical tendencies of marriage. Although many of the lessons are plain common sense the author has statistical backup for his assertions.

So why do men marry some women and not others? Here’s a brief outline of the book.

The Six Basic Guidelines For Women To Get Married

1. Insist on it.


2. If you find yourself in a dead-end relationship, move on.


3. Love yourself first.


4. Commit yourself to the idea of getting married


5. Keep in shape, watch your weight, and take care of your appearance


6. Time is running out—use time wisely in your search for the marrying man

To maximize your chances of marrying, only date the marrying kind:

1. Most men will not consider marriage before they reach the age of commitment


• For 80% of high school graduates, 23


• For 80% of college graduates, 26


• For college men, the high-commitment period is 28-33


• For men who go to graduate school, 30-36


• After the age of 37-38, the chances that he’ll commit drops dramatically. After 43, it drops even more


• A 40+ man who has been married before is more likely to remarry than an equivalent bachelor is to marry


2. Most men will not contemplate marriage until they have been working and living as independent adults for several years (hence the high-commitment periods)


3. Men become likely to marry after they become uncomfortable with the singles scene a. E.g. They realize that they’ve become the sleazy old guys who hang out at the bars and hit on younger girls


4. Men do have a biological clock, based on their desire to be an active father (especially to their sons)


5. Misc. negative traits and warning signs


1. Men who see marriage as a financial arrangement in which women have the most to gain


2. Men whose parents divorced when they were young


3. Men who live with their parents
4. 
   Other key facts
   
6. Men often marry women whose religion, politics, values, and socioeconomic status match theirs


7. Men whose friends and siblings are married are more likely to marry


• 60% of the newly married men reported that they had a friend who had married within the last year.


• Those men who didn’t have any married male friends were 2-3 times as likely to say that they weren’t ready to marry.


• The majority of men who had seen their friends get married said that if they met the right woman, they’d think seriously about getting married.



8. Avoid stringers, men who string along women but never commit. To filter them out, insist that he commit after six months. Then stick to it, no matter what excuses he gives.



9. Consider unpolished jewels, men who are just as nice, intelligent, hard-working, and successful, but lack looks, height, or social skills.



10. 88% of men over 50 who were marrying for the first time were marrying divorced women. The women told the researchers that they had already tried the tall, suave, type, and he didn’t make a very good husband.

There’s much more to the book, but I encourage you to buy it and read it for yourself. Here’s a link to it on Amazon. http://www.amazon.com/Why-Marry-Some-Women-Others/dp/0446531138

Is Online Dating a Dirty Word?

Is Online Dating a Dirty Word?

After a long day at work doing pre-production for our channel’s next reality show, I along with a few co-workers headed down to the pub.

Over some alcoholic beverages I chatted to them about the dates I had been on. My colleagues seemed genuinely happy for me.

“So how did you meet these guys?”, asked a colleague who I’ve named (in my head) Blonde, Anorexic and Dumb (BAD). “I’m trying online dating.” I said, as if I have nothing to hide.

A few of the girls looked at me scornfully. “Oh, I could never do that,” cooed one of them. “It’s just so much natural to meet someone in person.” That was the general consensus amongst most of the girls there.

“Yes, in many ways it is, but I’ve tried that other way. I’ve tried meeting guys in a more natural setting. Through bars, supermarkets, bookshops even at work to a certain extent. And after all these years it hasn’t gotten me anywhere. So I said I’m gonna try the online dating thing and see how it goes. I’ve only signed up for 3 months, so I’ll have a go at it until my membership runs out.”

“I suppose,” one of them conceded, but she didn’t sound satisfied.

I think one of the difficult things about online dating is the stigma that is attached to it. It is implied that by signing up for online dating, that you’ve given up trying to find someone the ‘traditional’ way. Or, perhaps that you’re not pretty enough / clever enough to meet to meet someone the ‘traditional’ way. Perhaps there is some truth in that. Perhaps there is an element of desperation in online dating?

But if you, like me, have spent the past 10 years dating the ‘traditional’ way and it hasn’t yielded results, isn’t it worth trying something else?

So this is what I’m trying and I’m not at all apologetic for that.

Date #2 Aussie Rules

Date #2 Aussie Rules

It seems ironic that the whole time I lived in Australia I never got asked out by a guy. I just assumed Australian men just weren’t attracted to me. Which brings me to Date #2 an Australian Ex-pat living here in London working in IT.

The first thing that struck me was that he’s tall. 6’2” He really towers over me. He’s a financially secure work-a-holic. He’s done quite well for himself. He’s a property millionaire, but he hasn’t given up his day job.

We met in Soho for drinks. We talked about traveling, Australia, politics, the middle east, George Bush, John Howard, etc. He seems to really like John Howard. I’m hoping he’s not a Tory. I could probably fuck a Tory, but date one in the long term? I don’t think so.

Now I knew I was somehow in trouble when he ordered a whole bottle of wine. I’m a 2-glass max kind of girl, so when I went on to my 3rd and 4th glass predictably I was feeling extremely horny. I kept wanting him to kiss me. Eventually he asked if he could kiss me. I answered, “Yeah, that’s cool,” as if it were the furthest thing from my mind!

While we were kissing he found my sweet spot, right in my ear. As he kept kissing my ear he was making more and more horny. Finally I had to tell him to stop; that, however, made him want me more. There we were sitting in the pub snogging each other and I was getting increasingly wet. He was so good at kissing that I could have fucked him right then and there! But no, no, I am in search of a husband, not an easy lay.

So I will be courageous and hope that he calls me again soon.

Date #1 He’s a bit like Boris

Date #1 He’s a bit like Boris

I’ve never understood the German-man / Black Woman thing. Think Boris Becker and his wife. It’s comforting to know, however, that other people don’t understand this conundrum either. See poll I asked my friend, The Voice of Reason about this. He says:

“u are the mother earth, or years of racism that makes u an object.”

In any case, I had a date with a cute German guy. Blond hair. Blue eyes. A couple years younger than me. He’s a professional shopper to the stars. “What? And you’re not gay?” Was my first reaction, but apparently he’s straight.

We met at a coffee bar in Canary Wharf for drinks. Things seemed to be going okay. Then we took the tube into central London. We eventually ended up at a Nandos.

Is it weird that a date took me to Nandos?

I mean we were just going to meet for coffee so anything on top of that seems like a bonus, right? We both ordered salads and spent much of the time talking. He wants to set up his own personal shopping business. Right now he works fulltime, but he wants to go freelance and pick his own clients

I like him, but there didn’t seem to be big sparks. I think we did have somewhat of a connection, but GermanShopperBoy seems too green. It’s like he hasn’t seem the world, or been on any adventures yet. He was perfectly nice. Perfectly sweet and all around a nice bloke, but he didn’t have that ‘edge.’ He didn’t have that “X-factor.” I dunno. I’m more than willing to go out with him again if he asks. I think I want someone more feisty?

Is it wrong that I kept wondering how big his cock was? I have a feeling that it’s really, really small. Of course that’s not a deal breaker. Ideally, I’d like a guy who was 6 or 7 inches.

Does that make me shallow?

Good News, Bad News...

The good news: I’m getting married! November 7, 2009
The bad news: I have no idea who the groom is!

Since my neat death experience I’ve been re-evaluating a few things in my life. I’ve come to a few decisions:

• I’m tired of just sleeping around. So I’m gonna stop doing it, with a very few exceptions. (Mr. MusicBiz being one of them)



• I don’t want to sleep with a lot of guys. I want to sleep with 1 guy for a sustained period of time.



• I’m now looking for a long-term relationship that will hopefully ultimately lead to marriage.

My goal is to be married by November 7, 2009. Why that date? It’s sort of random, but I figure I’ll need a year to get engaged and another 6 months to plan out he wedding. Who knows, maybe none of this will work out ot plan. The important thing is, I finally have a plan.

So from now on this blog will be about my great husband hunt.

Valentine’s Day Disasters of the past

Valentine’s Day Disasters of the past

I know in my previous near-death post I said I wasn’t going to beat on about how Valentine’s Day sucks, but since I know that some of you live Vicariously through me, I’ve written about some of my V-day disasters. I’ve even given them ratings: 1, being not so bad and 10 being completely fucking disastrous.

2006 London. "No Acknowledgement of Valentine's Day"
Whilst Dating the BFE I received nary a phone call on Valentine’s day. Flowers or chocolate, I should have been so lucky! As far our relationship went it was almost as if Valentine’s Day didn’t exist. He just called it, “Tuesday.” Keep in mind we had spent the better part of the month fucking like bunnies. There wasn’t a room in his house where we hadn’t fucked. So the Valentine’s day blackout took me totally by surprise. I later found out he spent the day trying to romance his wife. I guess he was attempting to convince her to go back with him. At the time I was livid, but now I just admire his chutzpah.
Disaster rating: 8 out of 10 broken hearts.

2005 London, Soho. "Best of the Best"
After 6 month of being girlfriend & boyfriend, The Ex and I went to a Japanese restaurant that I picked out. I picked it solely because the clientèle were Japanese. Is that wrong? During dinner he handed me a Valentine’s Day Card. I don’t remember anything about the card, but he signed it, “Best.” Not "love", "luv", or even "lurve." That was like a slap in the face. On the most romantic day of the year the best I could get was “Best.” Then he asked if we could split the bill. We later got into an argument about how he never makes the effort for me. He was a really shitty boyfriend, but now he makes a good friend. I guess this is one of those cases of clouds and silver linings. Still, when it happened, I was pretty bummed out.
Disaster rating: 6 out of 10 broken hearts.

2004 Brighton "HPY V-D 2U"
Was very casually dating this guy, Trevor. He sent me a Valentine’s Day text. Was that supposed to be romantic?
Disaster rating 3 out of 10 broken hearts.

2002 Sydney / Glebe "No hay banda"
I had started seeing this girl. Let’s call her GingerVegLez. The thing about lesbian relationships is that sometimes I can’t figure out if the girl JUST wants to be friends or if it’s more? Anyhow we got to the point where we were always hanging out, so I figured she was into me. And I was kinda into her. We made plans to spend Valentine’s day together. She asked me out, mind you. So I bought her a gift. A vegetarian cook book. And I wrote something nice on the inside cover. I don’t remember exactly what I wrote but I suppose it was quasi-romantic. We went to a quaint romantic restaurant. Then we went to see, what I thought was a romantic movie, “Mullholland Drive.” As it turned out, I had never seen a David Lynch movie before. For future reference "Mullholland Drive" is not the best initiation with Lynch. I really didn’t enjoy the film. I couldn’t figure out what it was about. Later we went back to GingerVegLez’s place. Even though we slept in the same bed, she spurned my advances. It turns out, she just wanted to be friends. Had I known that, I wouldn’t have paid for dinner, the movie and bought a gift. Even though that pretty much finished us off, weeks later, she had a house party. When no one was looking I took back the Vegetarian Cookbook that I bought her. I mailed it to Kiki in New York. GingerVegLez sent me an e-mail a couple days later. The subject of the e-mail was: Cookbook. Do you think I even bothered to read it? I just hit delete and deleted her out of my life.
Disaster rating: 5 out of 10 broken hearts.

1999 New York, Downtown, "Brazilian Nuts"
I was dating this Brazilian guy who was into tantric sex. He got me all worked up on February 13. He got me all wet and all worked up but then refused to fuck me. He wanted to tease me. He said he wanted to see how close he could get me to cum, then pull back. Yes, very cruel. He had an amazing tongue. I wanted his cock so badly. He actually got me on my knees begging for his cock, then he said no. And he said it so effortlessly. We said good-bye by kissing near the Flat-Iron building on 23rd street. He said he’d be back on Valentine’s day to finish what he started. Valentine’s day came, but he didn’t. And neither did I. In fact, I never heard from him ever again. Eduardo are you out there?
Disaster rating: 7 out of 10 broken hearts.

1993 Schenectady, "Garfield"
My first boyfriend, T. He was on the high school basketball team. Not my high school, but a rival school. He just happened to be playing against my school on Valentine’s day. I showed up for the game supporting the Rival School. Not really a good move in a small town. To make matters even more embarrassing, I bought him one of those huge 2-foot Garfield Valentine’s day cards. I gave him the card after the game. The next day, he dumped me. My little 15-year old heart was torn to pieces. Coincidently, I bumped into him 6 years later on the corner of Broadway & Mercer. He actually had the nerve to ask why I hadn’t been in touch?
Disaster rating: 9 out of 10 broken hearts.

And in case you’re wondering what I’m doing tonight, I’ve got a hot “date” with Wanda. If you have any Valentine’s day disaster stories you want to share, e-mail them to me, and I’ll read them out during our next podcast. me@naivelodnongirl.com

I Almost Died Today

I almost died today.

Normally, I would take this time to rant about how Valentine’s day sucks, and how it’s all commercial bullshit and whine and moan about how I’m perpetually single and never seem to have a decent Valentine’s day. But you know what, I’m gonna skip a lot of that. (OK I’ve left some of it in) Really, I’m just happy to be alive.

In the wee hours of this morning I narrowly escaped a fatal car crash. I still can’t believe it. On the A40 this morning two joy-riders driving a mini (I presume stolen) were careening down highway. They were coming at me, fast. I figured I better change lanes so they can go past me. So I looked again in my rear view mirror and saw the Mini, just a few feet behind me. The Mini suddenly smashes into the center guard rail. Fuck! It ricochets from the centre all the way to the left-most lane.

Simultaneously, a Green BMW swerves to avoid the Mini and instead flips over the Mini. It spins around and lands upside down. This is only a few feet away from my car.

Holy shit! Both lanes of the highway are now blocked by the wreckage. I move my car further up a safe distance in case there is a fire. I was in shock. Completely nervous. I couldn’t even figure out how to dial for an ambulance. I actually dialed 9-1-1- which, by the way, doesn’t work in England. Then I tried 000, which I think is the emergency code for Australia. I took me a long minute to think 1-1-2.

I was trembling as I spoke with the police. They kept asking me where I was. I had no clue. I was on the highway, but I didn’t know where. “I’m a foreigner. I don’t know where I am,” I kept saying. They finally figured out my location and sent an ambulance , fire crew and the police.

I timidly gave a witness statement to the police once they arrived. The passenger in the Green BMW was stuck inside. Emergency services was cutting him out of the flipped over car.

“Is he going to be okay?” I asked the female copper who was taking my statement.

She looked grim. She gently touched my shoulder and said, “Thank you for your statement.” She ushered me back to my car.

I drove over to the Ex’s and cried on his shoulder. I was a nervous wreck. I leaned on his shoulder and we watched QI together. This strangely comforted me.

So instead of complaining this year that I’m yet again single on Valentine’s day, I’m just going to be happy to be alive.

Date #3 What’s French for Bad Teeth?

Date #3 What’s French for Bad Teeth?

Les dents mal?

We met at the Tate Modern. The first thing I noticed was the horrible stench of cigarette smoke wafting from his mouth. He was shorter than his profile pictured indicated. He was older than his profile pictured looked. And when he smiled at me and said, “Hello Anjelika,” his teeth were an absolute train wreck. As yellow as a NYC taxi cab, and more crooked than the leaning tower of Pisa.

Right then and there I knew I would never kiss this frog!

We spent two of the longest hours of my life together. First we went up to the members lounge. He used someone else’s card to get us in. The concierge handed me back the card and said, “Welcome back Mrs. Wallace.” Classy!

After I sipped on an overpriced apple juice (which he kindly paid for) he disclosed that he earned his living as a poker dealer. He only works 2 days per week – not because he’s independently wealthy, but because that’s just the French attitude towards work, I suppose. He works enough just so that he can buy tea and his daily newspaper.

After the apple juice he HAD TO have a cigarette. Then we spent another 45 minutes looking at the works of Picabo, Duchampe and Man Ray.

This French dude was a nice guy but his hygiene standards didn’t meet my minimum requirements – fresh breath being the main one. This date also made me realize that I want a guy who’s ambitious – not a 2-day a week poker player… puh-lease!

Invoking the 3-week Rule

From I guy I've been trying to meet up for drinks with since November:

Hey Anjelika

Couple of things, first my big pitch meeting is tomorrow so will have to cancel tonight - very sorry for late notice and I will make it up to you with wine a plenty :-)

Secondly, do you get to vote in these election things that are happening in the states?

Speak soon

x

My cool-as-a-cucumber reply:

Hey don't worry about it. Let's put it off indefinitely. I have a 3-week rule when it comes to making plans. Sorry if that sounds harsh, but it shouldn't really take that long to meet up.

I haven't applied for an absentee ballot. Maybe I will for the presidential election, but either candidate is fine with me.

-Anjelika

Funnily enough, I never heard back from him. In a way it's a shame, because I did want to have drinks for him, but if it were at all a priority for him, he would have made it happen. I'm not gonna cry over split milk. I'm just gonna move on.

I like having minimum standards. I like, even better, that I can stick with them.

3 Week Rule

Thanks to my pal BKFITW I have a new minimum standard.

If it takes more than 3 weeks to get a date, have coffee, or go for drinks with someone then:

A. They suck.
B. I’m uninterested and won’t pursue it further. No one is THAT busy!

The only exceptions are:

A. December – a crazy month for everyone
B. If you, or the other person is out of town for 1 week or more.

I could have saved myself a LOT of grief had I taken heed of this before.

Are You Kidding?

Anjelika, Angelica and Wanda Discuss

- Pregnancy
- Having Kids
- Finding Mr. Right
- Ideal scenarios
- Is it selfish wanting a kid?

"I want a kid, but I don't want it that much." - Wanda