The 84-year-old bride

I get my fair share of email forwards from blogmom and blogdad, most of which I delete before reading.

(Sorry, blogmom & blogdad! But mama's gotta get to work and bring home the bacon, peeps.)

Anyhow, for some reason, I opened and read this one. Gave me a good little chuckle. Here goes:

The local news station was interviewing an 84-year-old lady because she had just gotten married -- for the fourth time.

The interviewer asked her questions about her life, about what it felt like to be marrying again at 84, and then about her new husband's occupation.

"He's a funeral director," she answered.

He then asked her if she wouldn't mind telling him a little about her first three husbands and what they did for a living. She paused for a few moments, needing time to reflect on all those years.

After a short time, a smile came to her face and she answered proudly, explaining that she first married a banker when she was in her early 20's, then a circus ringmaster when in her 40's, later on a preacher when in her 60's and, now, in her 80's, a funeral director.

The interviewer looked at her, quite astonished, and asked why she had married four men with such diverse careers.

"Easy son," she smiled. "I married one for the money... two for the show... three to get ready... and four to go!"

Fifty more years, and I could be on my fourth marriage too! (Let's hope not!)

Stop right there!

I recently heard the phrase "stoplight party" and had no idea what it meant, so I ventured on over to one of my fave Web resources to find out.

(And, no. It's not the same thing as a rainbow party, pervs.)

According to Urban Dictionary, a stoplight party is defined as follows:

A party where guests wear the the colors of the traffic signal to denote their relationship status: green means they're single, red means they're taken, and yellow means their relationship status is "complicated."

OMG, that's genius! Much better than my MENttens idea.

The only problem is that I look terrible in red. Good thing I wouldn't have to worry about that right now anyhow. ;)

Had you ever heard of this whole stoplight party thing before?

(And wouldn't it be a bitch if you went with someone you were dating, but they showed up wearing yellow?!?)

Looking for a Spring fling!

Spring has sprung
The grass has ris
Now I just need to find
Where Future Mr. AAB is!

Happy Spring, everyone! Historically, this is the time of year when boys seem to come out of the woodwork, no?

(Not that any of them have ever really worked out all that well. But it only takes one, right?)

Here's hoping for a Spring fling!

(And an Easter basket filled with Reese's eggs. And Pringles. And Alli.)

Do you have Spring (fling) fever too?

A love limerick

There once was a young sassy bridesmaid
Whose love life was tragic and staid
Until one sunny day
A young gent, he did say
[COMPLETE THIS LIMERICK!]

(P.S. If you're not sure about the rhyming scheme for limericks, the last line must rhyme with the first. And, please... for the sake of blogdad... let's stay away from anything that ends with "laid." HA!)

Happy St. Patty's Day, everyone!

(And if you want to write a limerick from scratch, please do! We could all use a chuckle!)

The Accidental Cougar

So... I maaaaaaay have had a date a couple of weeks ago with a boy. A young boy. A boy who was about 7 years old when I started college.

Ooops.

(And, as you can probably guess by the fact that I'm writing about him... I'm not worried about karma coming back to me on this one. Because while he is absolutely adorable, he's also most certainly not the Future Mr. Always a Bridesmaid.)

It all started quite innocently when I went out to dinner with an old friend. Because Mo and I don't get together all that often, we tend to stay out for hours when we do meet up.

And we did.

At one point in the nite while I was in the ladies' room, our server (who was adorable, BTW) approached our table and asked my friend what my story was, and whether she thought I'd go out with him. They conspired to have him leave a note for me when he brought us our bill.

And he did.

(It said something like, "It was a pleasure meeting you. We should grab a drink. The Cub. 555-TOO-YUNG." But, you know. With his real name and number.)

So, I called The Cub a few days later (and had to leave a message). And, of course, what did he do back? TEXT. Because all guys love texting, but the apparently the young ones ESPECIALLY do.

This back-and-forth communication went on for a few weeks, until our schedules finally matched and we could meet for a drink.

And we did.

After chatting for about 20 minutes, it suddenly occurred to me (based on the content of our conversation) that this kid seemed really young.

(Until this point, I had no idea how old he was. But, he knew my friend and I were in our early 30s from our dinner outing weeks earlier, so I assumed he was in the same general age range.)

So I asked, "How old are you?"

He replied, "Old enough." (With a sneaky little dimpled grin to boot!)

I immediately knew that his response meant I was probably approaching cougar territory. When I probed further, I discovered that he was ELEVEN YEARS YOUNGER THAN ME. Eleven. That he graduated from high school the same year I was celebrating my fifth anniversary at my second job. (And that he graduated from college the same year I celebrated my 10th anniversary at that same job.)

We had a good laugh about it. He even later commented about how he was with the hottest woman in the bar, and that he kind of liked that I was older.

But I know myself too well. If the maturity level of most 30-year-old men frightens me, I knew I couldn't deal with a boy who was a whole seven years younger THAN THAT.

(P.S. Did I mention that he still lives at home? And that doesn't really have any intentions of getting a full-time job any time soon? Yeah.)

And so went my date with The Cub. And my first foray into almost-cougardom.

Have you ever dated a (much) younger man?

Summer lovin'

It may seem hard to believe with snow still lingering on the streets of CLE, but wedding season is actually just around the corner!

I was reminded of this with my first official nuptial-themed invitations of the year: My youngest cousin's wedding shower and bachelorette party.

So far, I already know of at least four weddings I'll be headed to this Spring/Summer. (And that's not counting the annual, "How the hell did I get invited to this wedding" invitation.)

And although I'm not in any of those weddings, I am close enough to the brides to be invited to most of the other surrounding wedding revelry... e.g., showers and bachelorette parties.

(Dear checkbook: I'm sorry in advance.)

And so another wedding season is upon us. I have three words for you: Holy crap, already?

Wonder if I'll have a date for any of 'em?

Four steps to becoming an all-star d-bag

Step 1: Be belligerently drunk. (But in your defense, dude, everyone at that party was pretty wasted. Except I wasn't. So, you'll have that.)

Step 2: Be so drunk that you inadvertently spit on me every time you open your mouth. (To the point that I am wiping my face. Did you happen to notice that?)

Step 3: Upon deciding that you are too drunk and/or spitty to continue talking to, follow me as I walk away. When I respond to your tap on my shoulder, stare at me like a deer caught in headlights. (Then lose your balance and try to catch yourself on the table next to you. Which, unfortunately, happens to spin like a lazy Susan. Ooops.)

Step 4: Whisper (or what you think is a whisper) to your friend as I'm walking away, "Hey, dude, I'm just trying to get a BJ here."

Aaaaaand, there you have it, guys. Four easy steps to ensure I will not give you my number. Or a BJ.

P.S. Does anyone else now have this song stuck in their heads? (And I'm not mad at it. Are you?)

Man Monday on a Friday

I recently received an email from a reader who has just moved to Cleveland and is trying to navigate the (online) singles scene.

(Don't worry... he said I could publish his questions here.)

Anyhow, below is the series of questions he posed, along with my answers. But I'm sure he'd love to hear what you ladies (and gents) think too!

(Because, as you know, I have been writing a blog about being single for more than a year now. So, you know. I don't exactly have the best track record/resume for dating rules.)

Here goes...

Are all of the women 23-34 in Cleveland really sports nuts or are they just saying that? Out-of-town friends claim that they're just saying that because it's what guys want to hear, I'm not so convinced (and it's certainly not what this guy wants to hear). I find it shocking -- especially in a city with the gems that Cleveland has -- that nearly every profile professes a deep love for the Cavs, Indians, or Browns and completely ignores the museum of art, orchestra, Playhouse Square, etc.

Well, Lincoln, I think there are probably a couple of things at play here. First, Clevelanders love Cleveland! (Just check out this Web site if you don't agree.) So just the mere fact that the girls are Clevelanders means that they also likely support its sports teams. (Plus, even if you don't like the sport itself, games are just generally fun to go to!) Second, I would guess that there are probably not many guys who enjoy some of the "finer things" that you spelled out, and I wonder if girls are maybe afraid to put those in their profiles for fear of scaring the guys away? See how it's such a twisted circle of he likes/she likes?!?

Why do women proclaim "Let's do this again" at the end of the first date then either fall completely off the face of the earth (4 of past 6 "good" dates) or declare that "we should never see each other again" (2 of those 6 -- the two that I actually felt best about at the time) when I go to followup? If you aren't interested why not just say so at the end of the date? If I did/didn't do/said/didn't say something to offend I'd love to know so that I can avoid making the mistake in the future (we can't learn unless we know!)

Hmmm... this is a tough one, since I almost never say that unless I mean it. (And, BTW... guys do the SAME EXACT thing to girls... so don't feel too badly.) I suppose that's just part of the whole dating game. Plus, I would guess it's hard to look someone in the eye and tell him that you should never hang out again (particularly if there's nothing necessarily wrong with the guy... it's just that it's not a good fit), but that it's probably easier to do via email/phone after the fact.

Why are women after "instant chemistry"? I know there are some people you meet where it's obviously a bad idea (like the [sober] chick who decided to slide her hands down my pants while screaming her phone number and "I best not forget it") but if the conversation has been decent and you're reasonably sure the person's not a serial killer why not give things at least two dates, especially if you ended the first one with "Let's do this again"?

Another toughie, Lincoln. Geez. I'm not Dr. Phil! :) But I guess what I'd say to this one is that sometimes it does take a while to warm up to someone. (Several of my best friends married guys they "weren't sure about" when they first started dating.) But it took me a couple of years to learn that, so maybe the girls you're encountering just haven't gotten there yet? However, I will say that I'm probably not going to go out with a guy again if I can't imagine possibly kissing him someday. There has to be at least the *idea* that you'd want to make out eventually. And then some. (Sorry, blogdad.) So I do think there's something to be said for chemistry, but it doesn't always surface entirely on a first date.

What do you guys think? Do you have better advice for Lincoln than I did?

Oh, and P.S. to Lincoln: So did you remember that crotch grabber's phone number? ;)

A warning to boys

Dear Gents:

If you are stalking... I mean... perusing the pictures of a single female Facebook friend who you are not reaaaaaalllly that good of friends with, and with whom you've only recently become friends with, do not -- UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES -- send her a message that says this:

I knew I should have gone to the ball Saturday! How are u not married?

(Actual email I received after posting pictures from Jump Back Ball. Which was amazingly fun, BTW. At least, what I remember of it was. Damn blackout & tonics strike again.)

Anyhoo, boys... let this be a lesson... while you may *think* that is a flattering thing to say to someone (and I'm guessing this guy meant it as a compliment), it actually has the reverse effect on the recipient.

Because I don't have an answer to your question, and I wonder the same effing thing all the time, dude. Eeew.

If you're a single lady, does this question drive you crazy too? Or am I just PMSing? ;)

All a-Twitter

Since my last post about seeing that quote on Twitter, a number of you have emailed or simply flat-out asked me if I'm the face behind the Twitter account @alwysabridesmd.

Sorry to tell you that I am not.

(Though it is an odd coincidence that she's based in CLE too, no?)

Keeping up this dating blog is hard enough. I don't have the time or energy to give you guys a play-by-play via Twitter too!

(Plus, I'm still trying out that whole "not-writing-about-a-guy-til-I-know-what's-up" karma thing too. So far, so... meh. But I'm still sticking with it!)

However, I do think a blogdad/blogmom Twitter account would be high-lar-eee-ous. Could you even imagine?

What do you think their first tweet would be?