love.com

Back to School the Organized Way

I have a confession. I have been blog-stalking That One Mom for quite a while! I love her work. Her blog (Only Parent Chronicles) features everything from yummy recipes, to important community causes, to her heartfelt struggles about being a young widow raising two children, to (my personal favorite) her future ex-husband feature. It’s never boring on her site!

Today, I am honored to be a guest blogger on her site with my story about Going Back to School the Organized Way which includes tips from my twenty plus years in the trenches as an educator. I hope it helps as parents prepare their little ones for those all-important first days.

Grab a pencil and let ‘er rip.

Thank you That One Mom!

copyright © 2010  Tiia Jones

The Sex Talk

I am a terrible mother. Not for the usual reasons that I think I’m a bad mother, though those are many.

I don’t give my daughter all organic food, and if the truth be told she’s seen the inside of several McDonald’s (*astonished gasps from the audience*). Before she was even close to being old enough to read, she could easily recognize the large billboard logo of the corporate evil that is Wal Mart.

Plus, much to my mother’s dismay—and besides the fact that my mother was neither Catholic nor Jewish, she had a corner on the guilt market—Leah slept in my bed on and off until she was ten-years-old, probably increasing her need for therapy. She doesn’t always go to bed on time. I am constantly worried that I don’t expose her to enough fine art, quality literature, and great culture. Sometimes (wait for it here) we eat in front of the television.

All of those maternal shortcomings, however vast they may be, are not why I’m losing sleep of late. It’s… S E X.

I have read all of the parenting books that tell me I should talk to my child naturally and often about sex. I watch shows that suggest I use popular songs and media topics as a springboard to bring the subject up naturally into conversation.

What ends up happening is something very different. I wish there were scripts to follow for this (like Sex Talk 1, Sex Talk 2, and so on) or maybe a Sex Information Camp I could send her to which would absolve me of the responsibility (I picture it being something like the Cheerleading and Horseback Riding camps I’ve sent her to in the past only they’d learn all they needed to know about smooching and...everything else.

As I often do when faced with a difficult solo parenting problem, I ask myself WWLGD (What Would Lorelai Gilmore Do?). She would probably handle the issue with humor, ease, style, and finesse. However, my efforts have been more like a cross between Lucille Ball and June Cleaver. It makes me uncomfortable, and Leah senses that and feels uncomfortable too. It usually goes something like this:

Me: Hey that song reminds me that girls are not just sex objects, ya know? (trying to sounds hip and cool)

Leah: (horrified) We’re not going to talk about this again, are we?

Me: Well, all the books say we should talk about sex a lot and I want to make sure you don’t have any questions. Do you understand how everything works? (putting my hand on her arm)

Leah: (rolling eyes) Yes, I do. Mom, I get it. I’m a unique and special snowflake. I’ll kick anyone who tries to do something I don’t want, ok?

Me: That’s not all honey. Sex is beautiful when it’s right, but I just want to make sure that if you have any questions you can ask me. I could never ask my mom.

Leah: (double eye roll) Puhlease don’t tell me about the book that Granny bought for you and my aunts again. If I have to hear about the pictures of flowers getting pollinated one more time…and I know that’s not how people do it, ok?

Me: (uncertain) All right, but I love you so much.

Leah: I know mom, now can we go to Hollister?

I’ve asked friends for advice and they’re not much help either. One girlfriend said that she went into her daughter’s room every day and announced, “If you’re going to have sex, use a condom.” Another recommended a book, which I held off on ordering for a long time since I did in fact have bad memories of learning about the “Birds and Bees” from the book my mother gave Mary, Allyson, and me. While very colorful, it wasn’t exactly the most accurate piece of scientific information.

I finally bought the book which is called s.e.x. and it is by Heather Corinna (her website is here), and I have to say that Leah and I are both learning something. I will tell you that Corinna is more progressive than the birds and bees book and maybe more on the liberal end of the spectrum than some people would like. However, for us, I think it’s good. She deals with everything from homosexuality to kissing to sexual abuse to cybersex to friends with benefits. She EVEN has a chapter on Internet dating.

Most importantly, I think Lorelai would approve.

copyright © 2010  Tiia Jones

All I Really Need to Know

One of my favorite essays is from a book by Robert Fulghum. The book and the essay are called "All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten" and it contains many important nuggets of wisdom like put things back where you found them, take a nap every afternoon, and everything dies someday. It’s served me well.

However, I’d have to say that in dating, all I really need to know I did NOT learn in Kindergarten, but in Middle School. Since my daughter Leah is currently in Middle School, it gives me time to reflect on this important process. Watching her go through the difficult and sometimes painful lessons—without being able to lend the wisdom of my years—makes me realize that the way we relate to the opposite sex and how we think about them was not learned in our families or in grade school, but during the awkward period of adolescence. When we are covered with acne and the girls are taller than the boys, when a wayward glance can ruin our entire life let alone day, that is where we glean our meager knowledge of love.

Here is what I’ve learned (with help from my beautiful assistant Leah).

All I Really Need to Know (about dating) I Learned in Middle School:

• Boys (or girls, depending) will come and go, but your friends and family will not. Stay loyal to them.
• Opposites do NOT attract.
• No matter what they might say, most boys are not [completely] liberated. They don’t like pushy girls.
• Breaking up is, in fact, very hard to do. It is also very necessary. Doing it compassionately (not by email or text and by being as honest as possible) is a skill, no less than kissing or texting while walking.
• That sweet, nerdy guy might grow up to be a CEO of a company and friend you on Facebook someday. It pays to be nice to everyone.
• Bad guys are very sexy—this is true when you are 13, 23, and 33. I don’t know about 43 yet, but I’ll let you know.
• Kind of like algebra, a lot of attraction doesn’t really make sense. But if you don’t feel "that thing" within the first three hours of a date, you’ll never feel it so move on.
• Girls and boys are usually speaking two different languages. It’s like one is taking Spanish and one is taking French. Or Klingon. (Please Trekkies I’m begging you to watch this short video for me!)
• Stalker = Not Sexy
• You can’t change someone by dating them. Like Popeye used to say, “I am what I am.” Being with them won’t change you either so don’t look for a rescuer.
• Like Middle School, dating is an opportunity to experience many different people and events. You aren’t locked into any of them any more than you have to become a carpenter because you took shop. Try it out! Enjoy the ride.
• Other kids/adults can be very mean. There are girl and boy bullies alike, and they will use opportunities to exploit your weaknesses. Don’t let them.
• Finally, remember the most important rule of Middle School and of a date—it’s only temporary.

And the Winner Is…

It’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Well, maybe it’s not that dramatic, but I have had several people ask me which choice won the blog poll for the new title of my memoir. It actually was a tie!

The envelope please…

With both obtaining a respectable 27.3%, the winners are:

love.com: 237 First Dates that Changed My Life

Love, Alt, Delete: 237 First Dates that Changed My Life

As some of you remember, I held a contest on my Facebook Page for friends to submit entries for the new title. So the winning title goes to Eric. He’ll receive some goodies from our friends at  Fish Hugger. Fish Hugger has delicious, sustainable salmon, beef and other products that are healthy and good for the environment.

Eric’s title was Love, Alt, Delete (which I love BTW). Since I’m not sure, still, exactly what title and subtitle I’m going with, I’ve decided to give out a runner-up prize to Sherry who submitted Confessions of a Dating Mom. I love that one too, and I may use that in some form or fashion. So Sherry will also receive something yummy!

Thank you everybody who participated. I appreciate your support and ongoing encouragement. I could not do this without each of you! Look for a new poll soon on the blog.

P.S. That’s my TBR pile above! I have a lot of reading to do this summer.

copyright © 2009  Tiia Jones

Voting Won't Make You Look Fat in the Mirror!

The synopsis of my upcoming book follows. This blog post is simple. You are the wonderful supporters who have been there from the beginning. You know me and you know my story. When I went to New York City, the people in “the know” in the publishing world suggested that my memoir might need a new title.

I recently held a title contest on my Facebook Group page and here are the finalists in survey format (poll/survey to the right). I’ve also included the original title because maybe, “It ain’t broke.” Fish Hugger is joining with me to offer delicious prizes to the winner(s) so your vote really counts.

Please vote in the survey for the title you think most effectively describes the book based on the synopsis and also has the most catchy “hook.” Thanks again for your input!

Synopsis

When my daughter asked Santa Claus for a new Daddy, I set out to find her one using Internet dating; two hundred thirty seven first dates later, what she got was a new Mom instead.  My memoir chronicles the lessons this teacher learned from each date and my struggles as a single mom.

Over the course of my odyssey, I was fired from a job for premarital sex, brought up on pornography charges, and gained my independence after an abusive marriage when I received first my Master’s Degree and then my PhD in Education. I was stalked by dangerous men, and had more dating disasters than I care to remember. If the man with the dungeon in his basement, the crack addict, and the man who was really a woman weren’t enough, I have a family who is almost as neurotic as me. And my daughter, Leah, developed a bonafide phobia of the Easter Bunny.

In the end, though, the experiences shaped who I ultimately became. Leah and I both found what really mattered. Internet dating destroyed me and it saved my life.

love.com: AOL Chatrooms...a Trip Down Memory Lane

First, let me start by saying that if you are under about 35 years old, you won’t get this post.  You Facebooked, Tweeted, Googled, and Wikipediaed (all of which are acceptable verbs now, I’m pretty sure) your way to adulthood and none of what I’m about to say will make any sense to you.  It won’t be funny so you might as well stop reading now.

No, this is for us old-timers.  I was taken on this trip down memory lane by a book I’m reading by Virginia Vitzthum called I Love You, Let's Meet in which she traces some of the history of Internet dating.  So put on some NSync and Destiny’s Child, and settle in for the ride.

The year is 1998.  Maybe, like me, you never expected this Internet thing to get so big.  While working for the Department of Defense in 1994 (The Ex was in the military), a Commander required that we used this newfangled computer email to send out memos.  I thought the whole thing was ridiculous, and asserted that, “no one will ever use this to communicate when they can just pick up the telephone.”  Ha!

By 1998, though, you knew you were witnessing some sort of Brave New World.  You went to sign in on your one (because we all only had one) desktop computer, to which we were tethered.  You waited impatiently for the long tone and the short beeps that meant your dial up connection was taking place, and you hoped it would work.  If you got a busy signal, you’d have to try a different access number and start the whole process over again.  Once connected, you navigated the complicated menu that took you to AOL and then to the 30 Something chatroom (a process which could take upwards of ten minutes, during which you might get up to go to the bathroom or get a snack). 

Here are some highlights of what I remember of the AOL chatroom experience:

• Feeling like you were entering a magical world where the rules were being created as you went along
• Those (by today’s standards primitive) cool graphics
• Free AOL discs at the grocery store checkout line
• “Meeting” people and waxing philosophic on all manner of topics until the wee hours of the morning; then rushing back home in the evening to “see” them again
• People in the room saying “Welcome Back” when you returned as if you were a long lost friend
• A/S/L (age, sex, location) checks
• “What would everyone in the room like to drink?” (and everyone responded!)
• Talking about people in the room as if you knew them (“Well Flyboy hates the government so we’d better steer clear of that tonight…LOL!  Pretty Eyes is here, hide the booze LMFAO”)
• Welcoming newcomers to the room (as long as we liked them and they weren’t obnoxious)
• Entering the room to a chorus of ***kisses, (hugs), and <<high 5's
• Giving online virtual backrubs to your chatroom friends
• Being introduced to IM speak (contrary to my teenage daughter’s belief, their generation did not invent it; it was invented in the AOL chatrooms, and we were LOL’ing and ROFL’ing long before there was text messaging)
• Moderators kicking out jerks who were “lurking”
• Flirting in chatrooms with potential RT dates; then talking for hours in private IM’s
• Typing with one hand (enough said)
• Realizing that you were oh so hilarious in late-night IM’s—especially after a glass of wine
• Finally sending a pic to someone you met in the chatroom (this was a complicated procedure that involved taking an actual picture to Kinko’s, having them scan it in for you and put it on a floppy disc then taking it home and attaching it to an email and sending it—sending could take over 20 minutes and often failed while uploading)
• Waiting with baited breath to see what they thought of said picture
• “You’ve got mail”
• Trying to call someone and getting a busy signal for 3 hours straight because they were online
• Paying for AOL

Ah, those were the days.

copyright © 2009  Tiia Jones

love.com: What NOT to Do in Internet Dating

“My fish committed suicide,” Christina said as we sat discussing our Book Club book at the coffee shop.

 

“Wow,” I said noncommittally, “I didn’t know that could happen.”

 

“Yeah, it’s very common actually.  If you don’t give them enough attention or they are depressed they’ll jump right out of the tank,” said Christina (that’s not her real name BTW, but I had a student once who was wacko and was named Christina so I thought it was appropriate).  The other Book Club members uncomfortably shifted in their chairs probably, like me, trying to figure out how she had gotten from the Nobel Peace Prize-winning novel to her suicidal fish.

 

“So,” said the nice lady who had suggested the book, “besides death, were there other themes that resonated with people in the novel?”

 

Christina had a few more comments to share apparently.  “Well, I read lots of vampire books as you probably know.”  (I didn’t.)  “And in one of the series I read there’s a lady vampire who doesn’t know she’s a vampire at first because she gets bitten when she’s a little girl.  But then she falls in love with this horrible man who’s really a werewolf and then she has to find other vampires….”

 

The eyes of the other captive people (as well as my own) were glazing over at the long and drawn out scene-by-scene description of Vampire Diaries and the Sexy Werewolf or something equally frightful.  I stifled a yawn.  I thought of what I was going to cook for dinner. 

 

Wait!  The mousy man with the shaky hands was talking!  “In the book, I thought it was interesting how the people could only choose a few things to save from their previous life.  What would you save?”  He asked.

 

“I’d save my Grandmother’s antiques,” said the nice lady.

 

“I’d save as many books as I could take,” I said.

 

“That’s stupid!” said Christina disdainfully.  “Who still buys books?  No one!  I’d save my Betta fish and my hamster and his toys.”

 

Thankfully, it was time for the end of this month’s Book Club so I gathered my belongings to go.  On my way out, Christina grabbed my arm.

 

“You do a lot of internet dating, right?” she asked.

 

“Yeah…” I said hesitantly.

 

“Well I’ve been trying it and I just can’t figure out why I can’t get any second dates.  I’d appreciate some tips,” she said as she began walking away.  “Email them to me, OK?”

 

“All right,” I said to no one in particular since she was already gone.  And I thought I understood why her fish had jumped.

 

So, Christina, I have a few tips for you but actually they are what NOT to do in internet dating (and probably in other relationships as well):

 

1.     Watch the nonverbal cues of the people around you.  If they don’t appear to be listening, stop talking.

2.    Try to stay on topic.  You may really want to talk about something, but if it isn’t what the conversation is about, you’ll just have to wait. 

3.    You cannot just talk about yourself.  This is a fundamental law of friendship, dating, and indeed humanity.  Don’t interrupt.  Listen to what other people say and respond to it with interest.

4.    Don’t be rude.  Your opinion is just that.  It is hurtful to say someone else’s opinion is wrong or stupid.  You can disagree, but do it politely.

5.    And finally, don’t be a weirdo. 

 

 copyright © 2009  Tiia Jones

 

Writing Your Internet Dating Profile Part I: love.com

 In general, writing an internet dating profile is a lot like a job interview.  You want to create a favorable impression of yourself without giving away unnecessary, negative information.  All this, while not actually lying.  For example, at a job interview you don’t want to say “I’m a compulsive neat freak who can’t stand change, all of which drives my co-workers crazy,” (even if, in my case, that’s mostly true).  Instead, you would say, “I’m a type A personality who is highly organized and works well in a structured environment.”  See, doesn’t that sound better?   It’s a tricky business, and I continually see people who do it badly.

A pitfall here that is difficult to avoid if, like me, you seek to please is to avoid becoming a social chameleon.  It took me a couple of years to realize that, in the interest of putting my negatives in a positive light and not offending potential dates, I was often changing the essence of who I was to mirror the person I was with.  This will never lead to the necessary “spark” required by all successful relationships because it’s based on a false pretense.  So be yourself, just maybe don’t give all of yourself away right up front.  They don’t need to know that you collect Christmas Barbies in your profile narrative—save that for later, much, much later.  And in my defense, I’ve heard they can be a really good investment.

To begin with, you need a headline that goes next to your picture.  This is the first thing prospective dates see, and I have seen some hideous ones.  Even if your first and only reason for dating is finding a rich husband, don’t make your headline, “I want a sugar daddy.”  I use that as an example because I saw it—no kidding.  Make the headline something that is catchy but is the essence of who you are and what you want.  You also need a screen name or identifier that is your “name” for internet dating on love.com.  Use common sense here too. 

I have to stop for a minute here and emphasize what is perhaps the most important thing of all.  In all of these long years, talking to both men and women who are out there in the internet dating scene, the one thing I hear more than anything else as a criticism of people’s profiles is that they contain spelling and/or grammar errors.  There is no excuse for this.  Run spell/grammar check.  Have someone proofread.  It makes you look unintelligent.  So unless that’s the type of person you want to attract, avoid this at all costs.

Your narrative section is where you have an opportunity to let your personality show through.  It is a little bit hard to write.  I have written and re-written mine lots of times, and I encourage this.  For one thing, every time you re-write or edit your profile, it gets moved to some cosmic “higher order” in the love.com scheme of things so that people see it first.  That’s good, right?  Also, you change and evolve even in a relatively short period of time.  And once you see the fruitcakes who are out there, you’ll definitely want to refine your search.  Don’t worry, though, it’s worth it!

Now, I have noticed that sometimes people’s narrative profiles tend to sound pretty negative, and I think that is off-putting to most.  Another thing that tends to be difficult to read is when a person puts themselves down.  One profile I read said (and I am sorry to say that I went on a date with this guy) “I am sure I have some good qualities but I just haven’t found very many of them yet.”  Keep it light, and remember to put your negatives in a positive way. 

Upcoming Topics:  It’s OK to be Picky in Internet Dating; Answering Questions for your Online Dating Profile

copyright © 2009  Tiia Jones

Rule # 9 Never date a man with a dungeon in his basement.

He was a doctor, and we had quite a few interests in common.  He wanted to meet for martinis at a trendy bar downtown and then go to see a new movie called “Eyes Wide Shut.”  The topics of conversation during drinks and the theme of the movie should have tipped me off that it was not going to be a normal date, but I was blinded by the MD and my desire to get over another failed love.com relationship that I had recently obliterated by using a lethal combination of Doritos and drinking.

 “So,” he said as we sipped vanilla bean martinis, “are you seeing other men off of love.com?”

 I considered, “Well, yes occasionally.” 

 “That’s good,” he said.  I noticed that his grey eyes had flecks of brown in them.  He was handsome in a taller Tom Cruise kind of way.  “I like to know that I’m not the only one.  It makes me feel less… threatened if relationships are open that way.”

 “Hunh,” I said.  “Most men like it better the opposite way.”

 “Well I like an alternative lifestyle,” Randy quipped.  I was later to find out that this entailed an entire alternate universe.  Oh how sheltered I had been.

 “Hunh,” I said again.

 He took my hand.  “Well we’d better go or we’re going to be late for the movie.”

 If you’ve never seen the movie, there is no way I can do it justice so I won’t really try except to say that it was overtly sexual in a way I had never seen before.  It was a ritualistic orgy, it was a ceremony, it was a forbidden fantasy.  And it scared the hell out of me.  I was only a few months out of the evangelical church, and this was an awfully big leap for me.   I was shaking when we left the theatre.

 “Oh crap,” Randy said as he looked at his beeper and then at me.

 “What?” I asked as I tried to look nonchalant and put together.

 “I need to go by my house—it’s right near here.  My son needs me to bring him his hockey stick for a game tomorrow and he’s at my ex-wife’s on the east side.  Do you mind?”  Randy’s pace had increased as we walked back to his BMW.

 “I….I guess not,” I stammered.  I still was having a hard time thinking straight and how bad could it be, right?  I mean, he was a doctor and couldn’t possibly be dangerous. 

 His house was, indeed, very close to the theatre.  It was a nice, colonial style house, and he asked if I’d like to come in for just a minute while he grabbed the stick.  The foyer was polished marble and the furniture was beautiful.  I looked around.

 “I’d love to show you the place,” he said. He was so eager I couldn’t refuse.

 The house, by any standards, was incredible.  The kitchen had a huge island in the middle big enough for cooking King Solomon’s Feast.  The Master Bedroom had an enormous carved, four-poster bed with lions on each end.  There were two sunken bathtubs in the decadent bathrooms. 

 “Now I’ll show you my favorite room,” he said as we went down a short flight of stairs just beyond the kitchen.  He found a key off of his key ring and used it to unlock a padlock that was securing the door of a room at the bottom of the stairs.

 Inside was a large room with stone floors.  At first, I just noticed the huge candles burning in the room, and I couldn’t help but wonder who would leave candles burning in their house when they weren’t there?  Then I took in the fact that the five candles were at each of five corners of a pentagram that was inscribed in the stone floor.  In the center was what appeared to be a stone altar.  Suspended from the ceiling in various places, were strange looking contraptions and ropes and what looked like climbing harnesses.  Hanging from hooks on the wall were whips and paddles.  I took in the whole scene and realized I was in way over my head.  At precisely that moment, Randy handed me a black hooded robe and blindfold.

 “Why don’t you slip into these?” he said.

 copyright © 2009  Tiia Jones

 

 

 

 

love.com: Dating Rules

Rule # 21  This probably shouldn’t need to be verbalized, but for my sister Mary, I should mention that midgets and schizophrenics are automatically out of the question.

 

 

 

copyright © 2009  Tiia Jones