Don't want no short man

Before your mind throws itself in the gutter and swims through impure thoughts of sex and size, first know that this entry is not at related to how "well endowed" a man may be but instead how he stacks up to me. Let me clarify.

If you're over 5'8, you know it's incredibly hard to find a guy (just any old guy will do) that is over 5'10. I'm on the cusp of six feet so finding a man who doesn't look up at me when I throw on a heel is close to impossible.

In the world of dating, finding a guy who makes me feel like a woman (meaning I can't cradle you in my arms like a baby - because that would be really awkward) can be a big challenge.

Take for example the odds. Most men probably fall around the 5'8 - 5'10 range. If they're under 5'8 they're likely dating a woman who is a lot shorter, perhaps an inch or two taller so they can still feel a bit bigger. The 5'9 and 5'10 guy is sort of a gray area.

At my most recent physical with my doctor, the nurse informed me that I was in fact 5'9 and not 5'10. Perhaps mother nature or some bigger power was shrinking me merely to open up my dating options. Thank you mother nature! Aside from instantly increasing my BMI by losing an inch, I was elated to learn that I could now put 5'9 or taller on my list of requirements for my next boyfriend.

I dated a guy who liked taller women. He was about the same height as me and when I put on heels for a Saturday night on the town, I had a good 1-2 inches over him. On skinny days I felt sexy. On bloated days I felt, well just big.

I suppose we look to men who are sized appropriately for us. A toothpick guy who stood 7 feet tall would be kind of circus sideshow-like, but more importantly would not be a good fit for me.

On the flipside, perhaps the man of my dreams stands 5'8, is stocky with glasses and is waiting to run into me at the local DSW. Look for me near the size 10s.

I have to believe that size doesn't really matter.

A good guy is in fact a good guy.

Tea for errr.... One?

Being single has its drawbacks. For example, happy hour at the local pub is just too challenging. A buy one get one free on pints can easily get very messy when every time I order one, a lovely bar tender brings me another. What to do, what to do...

In all seriousness, the power of one is sometimes lacking. Now don't get all bent out of shape. As a single woman, I am powerful. I'm strong (half ironman this Sunday!) and confident, and at my worst I'm honest, open, and humble.

But as a single girl trying to purchase furniture? I am hopeless - and incredibly clumsy.

I've had my eye on a gorgeous, dark, tall dresser from World Market. If this dresser was a date, he'd be taking me out for a night on the town. I know, it's just furniture. Single girl makes her own fun.

So I've been eyeing this dresser but it was a bit pricey. I've been checking Craigslist every day to see if someone is selling a used version of it but alas, nothing. So Monday, I went on to the website to see if by chance it had gone on sale. Score! Dresser is $199 instead of $299. I call the store, speak to a nice lady who reserves it for me, and plan to pick it up after work. If only dating were that easy. Pick up the phone, put on hold, pick it up after work. Single girl is feisty today.

I go to pick up the dresser after work and this large (kinda cute) World Market stock boy comes out with this HUGE box on a rolling thing-a-ma-jig and says, "Where do you want this?". Oh dear.

I pull my car around to the elevators, he (not-so-easily) puts the dresser in my trunk, almost buckling underneath it and I ride off with the tail end of my car closer to the street. Low rider!

I arrive home and realize there's no way I can get this thing from my car, through the parking lot, and into my place. I retreat to the apartment, crack open a beer and watch TV. The next day I think, well why not take one piece at a time upstairs. With a purchase like this, odds are I'll have all of the parts in my apartment by middle of next week.

It's day #4 and I'm about 60% there. It's gone well - barring me dropping one of the boxes in the parking lot after a run this morning. I hope I still have my receipt.

So what's the lesson of this super long furniture story? Shop at IKEA and buy light, compact furniture?

No, ask for help.

And if no one is around or there's no wheelie thingy to throw your new purchase on, don't be embarrassed that you can't do it alone. Even if we can't tackle a big project, a goal, a dream, a problem in one fell swoop, we can still take pride in taking our time, moving one piece at a time until finally we pull everything together and have something perfectly beautiful.

-S.G.

That's so wrong

The other night Bernard and I were out enjoying the summer evening. The air was warm, the streets quiet, and our usual trip around the block with my iPod pumping was going swimmingly. Walking down the street, passing parked cars, I could see a small animal (a bunny? I've seen an influx of bunnies over the last few weeks. Their cuteness is distracting to say the least) attached to a leash.

What could it be? As I got closer, I could see a very cute (and teeny tiny) Yorkie attached to a leash. The leash was stuck in a closed door of a parked car. Nice car, something high-end with dark windows. Could someone have forgotten their dog during the evening rush? Perhaps a busy grocery trip left this person forgetting to bring their dog in for the night.

As I approached the car (and the Yorkie got more and more excited that I might unleash him from the door) I saw something in the car. Beneath the tinted windows there.... two people totally going at it. Where was I? I could've sworn I was still in the nice neighborhood of the South Loop but here were two people totally getting down in a parked car, with their dog strapped to the outside (courteous for the dog, I guess).

Somewhere between parking and getting ready to walk Foofie (this is what I named the dog), they decided to throw extreme caution to the wind, get completely naked and have a street side romp fest in my neighborhood. Blech.

I quickly moved away from Foofie, screamed. "Oh my!" in a tone that only my Mom could make and ran off with Bernard near my side. We walked quickly around the corner in shock (a little bit of horror) and total embarrassment.

The point of this story? Well, lets see the obvious first. Please don't have sex in your car in my neighborhood with your dog hanging out of the door. Second, have a little respect. In my craziest of days in college (Miami no less) I found myself in situations that if my parents knew, probably would be a bit embarrassing. But the whole South Loop to see your business? It's more than I'm interested in.

And if for some reason the mood strikes you and you can't say no to a quick ride in the car (pun intended), at least have a little respect for Foofie.

The Formula for (Or Against) Online Dating

When it comes to online dating, I've gone both ways. Some days I feel like its one of a few options to meet people. I bike to work every day, go out for cocktails with girlfriends, and hardly ever cross paths with someone who I would consider entering into a relationship with. I pull out my worn Citibank debit card and slowly enter the numbers, expiration, and security code - hoping that a small deposit will bring back true love. Yeah, I know. Wishful thinking.

Other days I believe what will come my way, will in fact happen a little more organically. That one day I'll be strolling down the street and I'll bump into some ridiculous smart, funny, and handsome guy who will sweep me off my size 10 feet and we'll live happily ever after. Yeah, I know. Wishful thinking.

This weekend in between some pretty hard core Lance Armstrong style bike riding, I went online to do some reading when I stumbled across an article titled, "Why You Should Never Pay for Online Dating".  Now keep in mind its written by a free online dating site, but the article completely blew my mind.

The writer attempts to take the slightly public success metrics for big, expensive sites like Match.com and eHarmony.com and figures out the likelihood that you (or I for that matter) will meet someone on one of these sites and marry them.

The article discusses the idea of "dead profiles" on these dating sites as a way to lure in people and the stats on how many people sign up for one month (2 months, 6, a year, etc) and actually return. What's the turn over rate on these sites?

The statement that stopped me dead in my tracks was the following. Based on the math - and this math is damn good:

"It turns out you are 12.4 times more likely to get married this year if you don't subscribe to Match.com".

Did you read that? That means by canceling my membership a few weeks ago, not only did I save myself a whopping $36 per month which I can use towards some sort of fun vacation (Single Girl has something in the works!)  but I also increased my odds of meeting the man of the dreams.

Perhaps last week's mailing of Exclusively Weddings was in fact a "heads up" that something good this way comes.

For those of you who are toying with the idea of online dating or are on there and are just not feeling like you're getting out of it what you're putting in (financial and time), read this article (link below). Read it thoroughly and read it good my friends.

And if you don't believe the math, break out that dusty old single girl calculator and do the math.

Read more here: http://bit.ly/b08ffj

-S.G.

Maybe it's a sign

This morning (after a great 5 mile run through downtown Chicago) I stopped at my mailbox. Realizing I hadn't checked my mail in 3-4 days and that I probably have bills to pay I opened up box 223 to find a large magazine at the very top of my mail.

There in plain view was the latest edition of "Exclusively Weddings". Their tag line? You want it perfect - we make it simple.

I quickly surveyed my current magazine subscriptions and recent purchases. Okay Women's Health, Glamour, Health Magazine. Nope, no sign of a wedding there. Recent online purchases : Converse shoes from TARGET, wall decals from Blik, a couple of 5k sign-ups. Yep, none of those really scream, "sell my info to a wedding catalogue, I'm ready to tie the knot!"

I feel as if this could mean one of two things:

1. I'm going to meet some amazing guy really soon, get engaged, married, and live happily after, or;
2. Someone got me mixed up with another single girl in the city and the post office is incompetent.

I'd like to think its #2. In college, I never received a birthday check my Dad mailed to my dorm room and yet it got cashed. Sneaky USPS!

In all seriousness, this reeks of irony. I'm at my most single self and here I am, confronted by a 99 page catalogue that sells "Future Mrs. So & So" everything from rhinestone pins to the ever-so-classy Britney Spears-inspired, velour jogging suit.

I turned away from the catalogue, opened up my laptop and started to type.

Irony at its best - or just a mailing label fluke.

Either way, I suppose I should be relieved that I didn't receive "Modern Senior Living Magazine".