Debunking the Bar Myth

Sometimes it seems as though all I ever hear is my single friends complaining about how impossible it is to meet someone worth dating at a bar. Occasionally, I just nod along, listening to their rant about the bar scene. Other times, I try to respond with a hopeful "You'll find someone eventually!" But what I normally say to these friends is simple: you can meet people anywhere.

And that includes a bar.

I think bars get a bad rep. Sure, I have had less than delightful experiences at bars, many of which include being the recipient of unwanted affections or engaging in conversation with the annoying, over-inebriated stranger. However, to those who say that you can never meet anyone worth dating at a bar, I must ask this: do you go to bars? And subsequently, are you worth dating?

If you answered yes to the above questions, then all I ask is that you consider that perhaps if you frequent bars and are a decent, dateable human being, then there must be a chance that there are other people at bars just like you -- also decent and dateable. Shocking revelation, I know.

The thing is, it really is a matter of getting to know people as best as you can, given the circumstances and the location. Not all bars are created equal, of course, but ultimately, all you can do is strike up a conversation, learn a little bit about the other person, and give them a chance. So they might not end up being a potential match. So what? You're at a bar -- presumably with friends, as opposed to venturing out alone -- so go hang out with your friends and let it go.

At the same time, completely dismissing someone wanting to strike up a conversation based on bar-prejudice alone could mean missing out on someone interesting. For as many questionable interactions I've had with people at bars, I've had twice as many engaging and enjoyable ones. I've met some fun and interesting people at bars -- some of which I am still friends with today. TRUTH.

I think back to my favorite success story, which is not mine personally, but a friend's: we girls were out one night, and my friend ended up meeting a guy at a bar. Personally, I think the rest of us girls were doubtful about their interaction, considering the amount of alcohol flowing; however, something must have clicked between my friend and this guy. They exchanged numbers, went on a first date, and come to find out: he's a gentleman, a volunteer with the Boys & Girls Club, has a good job, and an apartment. Yes, people, he is the quintessential nice guy and my friend met him AT A BAR.

And that is not some sort of miracle. It can happen to you too. Give bars a chance. At the very least, you'll get a good cocktail out of it, right?

Kim K. to Kover Vogue?

People are talking. What are they saying, exactly? Well, if you've heard anything from the rumor mill or overheard your regular neighborhood fashion gossip, then perhaps you know that there's speculation that Kim Kardashian could be Vogue's next cover girl.

*GASP* I know. The reality TV tartlet, supposedly with the help of her eager fiancé Sir Kanye West, may perhaps grace the superior fashion glossy's cover in the near future, if these rumors are true. And it seems as though everyone has an opinion -- including yours truly.

So, since you were wondering, I'm sure, what exactly do I think about the whole potential fiasco? (As if dubbing it a fiasco doesn't tell you enough as it is...) Well, I think there are a lot of factors that play into a potential Kim K. cover that could make it both good and bad. I'm going to discuss three.

First off, let's discuss one of the arguments I've heard so far: that Vogue is just giving the people what they want; Kim is a major celebrity and it's the public's interest in her that has prompted her cover girl status. Ultimately, this argument blames the public -- that we have made her important and if we wanted her to go away, it is our job, as the media consumers, to just say no!

While I think there's some truth in that, I also think that argument shows only one side of the complicated circus that is the media-public relationship. Yes, the masses have spoken, and they watch  all of Kim's shows, read other magazines with her bodacious bod on the cover, and probably buy her perfume and whatever else she sells at Sears. However, the media makes a conscious decision to give her those television shows, put her on their magazine covers, and write stories about her. When E! news decides to do a special on Kim, or if UsWeekly features a "tell-all" as their major headlining story, they are telling us that Kim is worthy of discussion -- that she is important. The media is setting the agenda, making Kim salient, and therefore, crafting her celebrity. With Kim's image over-saturating the media market, a passive media consumer assumes she has some sort of cultural value. 

Granted, people could stop watching her TV shows, stop buying magazines with her on the cover, and stop buying all of her products as promoted in her advertisements. But they don't, and this then fuels the need for more episodes, magazine covers and Kim-approved products because they make money.

Which brings me to my next point: magazines need to sell because magazines need to make money. If Kim is a tried-and-true cover success, then perhaps Vogue is just being smart. If you've ever waited in line at a grocery store (or really, any store that sells magazines for that matter) then you've seen Kim on probably half of the magazine covers. The girl might not actually be news-worthy, but by golly, the magazines make her news-worthy, and her face sells. Now, I don't have any statistics supporting or refuting the influence of Kim covers on your purchasing decisions, but the fact of the matter is: she is always on a magazine cover. There must be a reason why she is: people must buy those magazines. And if that's the case, then Vogue is going to appeal to all of those people who have purchased Kim-covered magazines in the past, and it's going to succeed in making money.

But then, the natural question is: well, what about all of those people who already purchase Vogue? Does Vogue's *speculated* choice of Kim as a cover girl align with Vogue's current demographic? This is something about which I have no idea. Certainly, Vogue is called the "Fashion Bible" for a reason -- it is one of the most prestigious fashion magazines. It is an institution. For goodness sake, Carrie Bradshaw chose Vogue in lieu of food because "it fed [her] more." 

On the one hand, it might seem as though Vogue is abandoning its current readership. These are sophisticated women. These are women who get their news from more than just E!. Could it be that Vogue is "selling out" and giving in to this talent-less celebrity culture, forsaking art, culture, and fashion for a woman whose career was built on a sex-tape? Could it be that they are no longer the institution they once were?

Well, clearly the fact that this is a controversy only serves to prove that they are still as culturally important and prestigious as ever -- or else no one would care who graced the cover. However, if Vogue does choose to feature Kim as their next cover girl, I think it makes a huge cultural statement. Perhaps Vogue is simply aligning itself with a new conceptualization of the "celebrity." Though Kim's career had an infamous start, she has developed her own empire -- a modern businesswoman, if you will (though that is still debatable).

And we must consider this: it was Wintour who revolutionized the fashion mag cover in the first place, replacing model-dominated covers for covers with actors/actresses and singers. She has proven her prowess in shaping the industry, and maybe this is just another strategic move in redefining the celebrity and fashion landscape. Vogue could be headed in a new direction, keeping up with our changing cultural and societal values.

I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

The Need for "Creeping"

I had a moment a few weeks ago when I was in my communication theory class amidst discussion of social media and its role in uncertainty reduction theory. Some might call this an "aha" moment. I would call it "that moment where the practical intersects with the theoretical" -- where the stuff normally reserved for academics and large, overpriced books finds its way into your life and is suddenly applicable. I finally realized why people engage in this activity we so fondly and aptly label "creeping'" -- that is, "Facebook creeping."

When you consider the "Facebook creeping" phenomenon, the first thought that probably comes to mind is "stalker." The second thought is probably, "Except for me... Because I do it," which is a more accurate observation. Not all who wander around the intricate web that is Facebook are lost. No, no. In fact, more than anything, they are just giving into their intrinsic need to gather information about others. Let me drop some knowledge on ya.

You see, in the context of communication, humans gather information about others (acquaintances, potential love interests, coworkers, etc.) because they seek to reduce uncertainty about those "others", whoever they may be. A certain Mr. Berger developed this concept, which, in a very, very small nutshell, hammers down to the fact that people want to be able to predict the behaviors of others because this enables them to then build a relationship (Littlejohn & Foss, 2011). Once solely confined to face-to-face interactions, the development of the Internet, and subsequently, social media, has led to people venturing online to reduce uncertainty rather than relying on their in-person interactions, observations, and overall questionings.

Facebook, therefore, is the perfect medium on which to pursue this basic need of ours. Between the thousands of photographs, incessant posting, and chat capabilities, Facebook's features end up being an important tool in reducing uncertainty about others. Consider this: you meet a cutie at a bar, have zero mutual friends, and end the night knowing only his/her first and last name. Whether you care to admit it or not, you'll probably look up this bar fly on Facebook (or at least one other social networking site) and immediately sift through his/her interests, photographs, posts, and mutual friend list. You might even resort to Facebook messaging this person and having an online sober chat, much unlike your initial interaction. As you use your sleuth skills, you might ask yourself: Does this person constantly post depressing statuses about how his/her life sucks? Are all of this person's photographs of drunken escapades and borderline inappropriate revelries? Is your single mutual friend that one douchie person you knew from high school? What does that douchie person you knew from high school say about this person? Immediately, we began to create a picture of who this person is, and use this information in order to predict that person's behavior, and ultimately, decide whether to build a relationship with this person, or, in some instances, further a relationship with this person. (Hopefully not, if you actually met a person like this...)

Of course, there will always be the same argument that comes up when we discuss the transition from offline interactions to online interactions: inevitably, things could get lost in translation, be misrepresented, or just ultimately, lack many of the nonverbal forms of communication necessary to more-completely get one's point across -- and these are all valid points. Yet, one could argue (and there is research to back this up) that the overload of information that social media sites (especially Facebook) provides us with sometimes serve to make up for the lack of nonverbal communication or the possibility for misrepresentation.

Regardless, Facebook creepin' is not a perfect science, nor is it anywhere close to being the perfect and single representation of a human being -- especially considering that we humans do not exist solely on our beloved Interwebs. We do exist offline, in real life. However, at least there is some sort of reason behind our inclination to "creep," and maybe next time, we might wear that "creep" badge with pride.

Or not.

References:

Littlejohn, S.W., & Foss, K.A. (2011) The Conversation. In Theories of Human Communication (10th ed.) (pp.180-182). Illinois: Waveland Press, Inc.

The Boyfriend Card Part Two: A Story

A few weeks ago, I went out to a bar with a group of girl friends on a Saturday night.  It was exactly what you’d expect: a night out in the pursuit of drinks and dancing – just us girls!

That usually doesn’t happen though. My friends and I have a tendency to make friends whenever we go out. Half the time, it’s as a result of us unashamedly asking for a seat at a table or pushing our way to the bar. The other half of the time, it’s probably just because a gaggle of girls ordering shots generally attracts some sort of attention. This night was no exception. As we chatted amongst each other at our table, having ordered a very embarrassingly named shot that required embarrassing methods for consumption, we unwittingly were the recipients of a quite a few glances, but also the attention of some guys. One such gentleman bravely approached my friends and I, and as I explained our drink decision, a faux-friendship was born. I say “faux-friendship” because it’s the kind of friendship that is great and provides lots of fun – but only for that evening.

And so, our new friend became an extension of our group for the evening, as did a few other guys who joined in our fun. As I talked with our new friend, I was confronted with that age-old question: “When do I tell this guy that I have a boyfriend?”

As we've gone over before, I knew that I could casually drop the boyfriend card into conversation, but I also realized that the boyfriend card, at this point in the night, was irrelevant. I was part of a group of girls – even if I was “taken”, my other friends weren’t, and thus, if finding a girl was this guy’s “goal” for the evening, talking with me, boyfriend or no boyfriend, didn’t matter because I was still his “in” with the other girls.

Sure, this guy was primarily focusing his flirtation toward me, but I did what any good wingwoman should do: bolster up her friends, and highlight the reasons they’re so great in an effort to deflect his misguided attention. The boyfriend card was a non-issue: I wasn’t getting drinks from this guy, and we were just having a conversation. Does everything need to be about hooking up?

We divided our time throughout the night, spending part as as we originally anticipated, shouting “woo” while waving our hands in the air like we just didn’t care, while spending the rest hanging out with our faux friends.

When one of our faux friends suggested heading to a different bar next door though, I faced an issue: my object of flirtation for the evening wanted to come with us. At first glance, this isn’t really an issue. Bars are open to the public; anyone can go. However, I knew that by inviting this guy to tag along with me and my friends I was suggesting to him that I wanted to spend more time with him because I was romantically interested. Essentially, the subtext would become the text. So this was the moment. I had to drop the boyfriend card so that this guy wouldn’t waste the rest of the night following me around under the guise that I was single, and ready to mingle. Right?

I tried hinting to him that it wasn’t worth it to come to the next bar. “We’re going to a total dive! If I wasn’t with my friends, I’d probably just go home and go to bed!” I surmised.

Didn’t work.

“We’ll probably have to wait in line, and by the time we get in, it’ll probably be closing!”

Also didn’t work.

In a last-ditch attempt, I did it. I threw the boyfriend card. I don’t remember exactly how I worded it; I just remember that it was extremely awkward and not at all organic to the conversation. Most likely, I said it like this, “I HAVE A BOYFRIEND.” Despite this ungraceful effort to be honest and not lead a nice guy on, I don’t think he even heard me, because he followed my friends and I to the next bar, where, he didn’t even end up getting in.

So moral of this story? Well, first of all, I don’t think blogs are necessarily conducive to sharing morals. But, for the sake of this rant, I will try to provide some moral perspective. I suppose I should have worked the “boyfriend card” into conversation earlier in the night. I think I was so desperate not to let the guy down, and distracted by my own efforts to play wingwoman that I failed to recognize that our faux friendship had expired shortly after he focused his attention on me alone.

It’s one of those weird dimensions that only exits in “bar land” – you can’t assume that everyone is hitting on you/interested in you, but you should also be aware that some people are there to meet someone and thus, may actually be hitting on you/interested in you. If you were to meet someone in a grocery store, you wouldn’t necessarily drop the boyfriend card amidst a discussion on whether to buy generic or brand-name peanut butter. You’re at the grocery store. However, when you’re at a bar and you meet someone, the expectations of conversations among people there are different:  knowing whether or not the person you’re talking to has a boyfriend/girlfriend does change things because the expectation of that conversation may be to see if you’re romantically compatible with the other person.
Sure, you could meet your next boyfriend/girlfriend at a grocery store, but you go to a grocery store with the intention to get just that: groceries. Not your future spouse. People go to bars to hang out, chill, have fun and dance (if you’re like me) – but it’s also frequently considered a place to meet people, and more commonly, meet someone you might want to date. Not every person I talk to is going to be someone who wants to date me (I’m great, sure, but not that great), but it does help to be sensitive to the fact that certain locales require a specific sort of social protocol. In this case, throwing the boyfriend card at the right time.

When the Crazy Cat Lady Is Your Boyfriend

Because any man who has a cat is a winner.
http://dailycaller.com/2010/11/19/the-sweet-sixteen-of-awkward-family-pet-photos-slideshow/pet002019403/

I have always been wary of men who consider themselves “cat people.” They are a special breed of man, akin to the “renaissance man” or metrosexual in the sense that they do not rely on masculine stereotypes to build their confidence. They are in tune to more than just beer, basketball, and babes. They have multi-dimensional interests, and are emotionally mature and open-minded. However, cat-loving men are still distinct from their evolutionarily progressive male counterparts. You see, as much as they might be enigmatic and interesting, cat-loving men are just that: men who love cats.

So what’s my “beef” with cats and ultimately, the men who love them? Well, cats are confusing creatures –the Rubik’s Cube of pets. Unlike with dogs, you have to earn a cat’s affection. Cats never automatically like you. With their judgmental eyes and quiet footsteps, they seem as though they’re plotting world domination. You can be sure that they’re sizing you up, deciding whether to kill you or allow you to co-exist with them. And that’s the thing – they decide what your relationship is going to be like with them, not the other way around. Ultimately, you can never really know if they actually like you or if they’re just trying to get you to feed them.

I’m suspicious of cats, and as a result, suspicious of their owners. If cats are judgmental, tyrannical, and potentially looking to take over the world, then what does that suggest about the owners who love them? These feline attributions don’t so much as transfer onto their owners as they do suggest that their owners are willing to be submissive, begging for their cats’ love and affection so as not to be taken out upon their cats’ world domination.  Who could love such a creature – and more importantly – could I love someone who loved a cat? I had never really come face-to-face with a single, male cat owner until I went to my boyfriend’s apartment, a few weeks after our first date.

I hadn’t known he had a cat. It wasn’t until I went to my boyfriend’s apartment for the first time and saw the litter box that I realized I might have to re-consider the whole relationship. My boyfriend introduced his cat to me: a girl cat, named Gary. He cooed and talked to Gary in a baby voice, telling me how “beautiful” she was, petting her and avoiding her attempts to scratch him.

Despite all of this, I really liked this guy. After all, he was a man of the 21^st century: charming, smart, a great cook, capable of doing his own laundry, and sarcastic. I realized if I wanted to have the relationship, I was going to have to come to terms with the cat.

As I spent more time with my boyfriend, and subsequently, his cat, I realized: cats aren’t so bad. I learned more about Gary and her personality, and became more in tune to the kind of cat that she was. Sure, I was still nervous from time-to-time that Gary would claw my eyes out in my sleep, but when she’d cuddle up next to me on the couch, I felt an immense sense of satisfaction. Here was this creature, known to be judgmental and finicky, choosing to return my affection. I realized that my expectation of immediate, unconditional love devalued that same love. Earning Gary’s affection taught me something: having to put work into a relationship and upholding a set of standards isn’t a bad thing. Instead, having a set of standards meant that I could have a better and more fulfilling relationship. And yes – a cat helped me realize that. I earned the love and trust of my boyfriend’s cat, and at the same time, the love and trust of my boyfriend.

Over a year later, I still might be wary of cats, but I am proud to be dating a cat person. Recently though, at the doctor’s office, I sat in the examination room waiting for an explanation as to why I haven’t gotten over my cold.

            “It’s your boyfriend’s cat,” she said.

            Go figure.

Tis the Season for Lots of Pressure

In the weeks leading up to Christmas and New Year's Eve, I find myself carefully planning out gifts and which events I'll be attending. I accept invitations, plot my outfits, and calculate how much money I can afford to spend on gifts and parties. I love spending the holidays with my friends and families, I really love going to parties filled with said friends and family, and I absolutely love giving gifts to those I love the most. With that being said, between the commercials, the Christmas music, and the Christmas countdown (on almost every TV channel), there is so much pressure to do the holiday season right.

Let's start with Christmas: you're expected to buy gifts for your family and friends. Certainly, you may have different arrangements with your family and friends, but according to just about every media outlet, you're expected to come up with the perfect gift for each person in your life. Gift-giving is supposed to be about finding something special for your someone special, because you want to show that person how much he/she means to you. Giving a gift is an opportunity to say "thank you" or "I love you" or even "You're awesome - here's a gift!" But it's becoming increasingly difficult to do that during the holiday season without feeling stressed and anxious.

Gift-giving guides and in-store arrangements suggest that this is the "perfect gift for mom" or that your boyfriend needs a new watch, not that book you know he's been gushing about for the past few months. There are gift-giving guides according to how much you want to spend -- as if you monetary value correlates to how important someone is in your life: $500 for mom, $300 for your brother, $200 for your sister who you've been fighting with, $400 for your dog because he is your best friend, naturally. However, this is hardly representative of the purpose of gift-giving or of the intricacies of your relationships. After all, isn't it the thought that counts? 

The over-commercialization of Christmas and the over-sharing of social media makes for a big mess of it all. You aren't just giving your gift in the quiet comfort of your home. Your gift may have to stack up to everyone else's gifts on Instagram or Facebook. I've seen Facebook posts boasting about Christmas and Hanukkah gifts, or Instagram pictures proudly revealing said Christmas loot. Throw in the fact that almost every website, blog, and store has a gift-giving guide which, though very helpful at times, seem to take the thought out of giving gifts in the first place and suggest what is the best gifts for the people in you life that they don't even know. 

There's so much pressure to get the gift right  or to buy the most presents. But the pressure doesn't stop there. The gift-giving might come to an end after Christmas, but New Year's Eve opens a whole new can of worms. New Year's Eve is arguably the most important party night of the year. It's your one chance to leap into the new year at your most fabulous, ensuring that the year to follow is one equally as fabulous as the party you attend in order to ring it in. It's one night. One night! You have to have your dress ready, champagne chilled, cover charges paid, and a cool party to attend -- not to mention, it needs to be fun. That is a lot to ask for. And it's not that it can't be done. New Year's Eve was once one of my favorite holidays, but that was because I spent in in the company of friends sans cover charge and in my pajamas. 

When you put so much money, effort, and energy into one night, building it up so as expecting it to be one of the best nights of your year (and last nights!), you're bound to set unrealistic expectations that end in a slump the next day as you nurse your hangover, and for some of us, human bites. Again, this is a night that's going to be on display. Expect pictures documenting every half hour of the night to appear on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, so you better make sure that your hair looks good, you're parting with attractive people, and you're somewhere fabulous.

How can we just enjoy the night without letting all of the pressure -- the pressure that we have to have fun and have an amazing night -- get to us? Maybe it starts with lowering our expectations, or maybe it just starts with lowering the cover charges to get into all of these places. Either way, I think it starts with remembering what the night is at its very core: New Year's Eve. This goes for Christmas too. What are these holidays in their most basic definition? Even if you aren't religious, both holidays, and all holidays for that matter, are an excuse and a celebration to be with the people you care about the most, or to be with people that could potentially turn into the ones you care about most. These holidays are a time to showcase our love for each other and enjoy each other's company over great food, a bit of bubbly, and hopefully, some festive music. I think once we recognize what's beneath all of the bells and whistles, the advertisements, and hype, we can enjoy the season and relax. FINALLY.

Can Harry Be JUST Friends with Sally?

I watched When Harry Met Sally for the first time this winter break. I know -- it was a long time coming. After all, I'm a 20-something female. It's my duty to watch the entire library of chick flicks and move through life according to the chick flick code. After joining the rest of my sisterhood as someone who has seen the film, I talked over one of the major themes with a friend: can you truly be friends with someone of the opposite sex?

According to Harry, you can't; according to Sally, you can. My friend and I were decidedly "Team Sally," agreeing that of course you can be friends with someone of the opposite sex. It's 2013 -- soon to be 2014 -- men are not from Mars, and women are not from Venus. We may be different in some ways, but we are certainly not from different planets, and we most certainly can have a purely platonic relationship with each other. Men and women are just as capable as having a fulfilling relationship sans romance with each other as men have with other men and women have with other women. In fact, I think it's possible to have a friendship with someone of the opposite sex without ever wanting it to develop into something "more." These different-sex friendship function much in the same way that same-sex friendships do, and sometimes, the only difference between these types of relationships is in the sex of the friends and society's apparent bewilderment at how this friendship exists and prospers.

So we've established that men and women can be friends -- and good friends at that. But what happens when you misinterpret the joke of a long-time friend or mistake an intimate gesture to be more romantic than platonic? If a friend of the same sex offers to pay for your dinner or gives you a kiss on the cheek, you may not think anything of it. If that friend is of the opposite sex and does those things or strays from the firmly established norms of your friendship, suddenly, you question the motivations of your friend. When someone puts the bug in your ear, suggesting that this friend might feel something more, then what happens?

All it takes is for someone to plant the seed. A mutual friend might misread a text or a gesture from your "Harry" and propose that Harry wants fiery romance rather than friendly repartee. You might have never considered Harry as anything more than your friend, and you still might not be interested in pursuing romance, but all of a sudden, you're reading all of Harry's verbal and nonverbal cues as amorous. A simple text in the middle of the night might have previously been just another text from Harry, but now that the "seed" is there -- that little piece of doubt that your relationship isn't strictly platonic -- that text is a sign that Harry is in love with you. And that's how you begin to interpret your exchanges with this friend. Every actions seems to beg the question: "Does this mean that he likes me?"

He probably doesn't, and you probably still don't want to venture into romantic relationship territory, and yet, now that Pandora's Box has been opened, your previously neutral interactions are now seemingly sexually and romantically charged. And once that box has been opened, can you go back? Can you just shut off the filter -- you know, that sifter in your mind that filters everything your Harry or Sally says to determine whether he/she is more than just a friend? It's difficult, for sure, but then it just gets worse.

As my friend and I were discussing this phenomenon, the "friend-to-faux-flirtation" situation in which you begin to doubt this strictly platonic friendship, we wondered if it could wind up being a self-fulfilling prophecy. He and I have both been in situations when we have been friends with someone of the opposite sex for a really long time, never wanting nor being interested in pursuing something romantic. However, there came a point in those relationships when we began to question the motivations of our interactions with said friend, and started to question our own feelings toward that person in the process. I told my friend that he should set up his "Sally" with another guy, if he wasn't interested in her, so that he could divert her "imagined" romantic interest toward someone else. However, he made a valid point: what if he realized that her faux flirtation wasn't so "faux" at all, and decided that he wanted to move past friendship and onto a romantic relationship?

But is this a self-fulfilling prophecy? Could you start being interested in your friend as "more than" because of this "imagined" romantic interest? Perhaps we should consult the chicken and the egg for their take on situations of this sort of complication. Relationships are prone to living in that "grey" area -- regardless of the genders involved -- but it only gets more muddied when you're dealing with a Harry and Sally. Does this mean that Harry and Sally can't be friends? No. But I think what this comes down to is the basics of any good friendship or relationship: honesty and open communication. If you can be honest and truthful with your Harry or Sally, then you won't have any mixed messages -- even if those messages end up being that you do want something more than a platonic friendship.

Is Facebook Ruining Reunions?

Every year around Thanksgiving, people trek home for not just the holiday, but for a long-weekend extravaganza of eating, drinking, and reconnecting with old friends from their old neighborhoods. For some, this reunion is informal, merely congregating at the local watering hole or "townie" bar. For others, though, the dreaded --or anticipated (largely depending on if you've lost weight or are unrecognizable)-- high school reunion serves as the facilitator in a more structured reunion with your friends from yesteryear. It brings a small community together once again, albeit in a mostly forced, awkward, and drunken way, in the hopes of reminding everyone of their shared inside jokes, memories, and potentially, worst years of their life.

Okay, maybe it's not entirely bad. High school reunions can be fun. After all, the people you graduated from high school with know you in a way that someone can only know you after sitting through class after class from kindergarten to senior year. These are the kids you sat on the bus with, the kids you attempted to outrun during gym class, the kids who misguidedly attempted to explain the "birds and the bees" to you for the first time in elementary school. Sure, the people you graduated from high school with may not necessarily know the person you are now, but they were a part of those very crucial formative years as you were attempting to become a functional and educated human being.

So I digress. High school reunions give you the opportunity to reconnect with everyone, for better or for worse. However, in the age of social media, Google searches, and Skype, you are never really more than a click away from your fellow class of (insert high school graduation date here) members. Just as the Internet is killing print media (debatable), and the video killed the radio star, Facebook is killing the high school reunion.

Think about all of the stereotypical hype surrounding a high school graduation: wondering what your crush looks like now; if the nerds are now ruling the world; if the cheerleaders have horizontally outgrown their uniforms; and more importantly, wondering what sort of interactions will take place at said reunion. This information is readily available prior to the fateful day in November, thanks to whatever social media platform on which you choose to connect with those from your past. You might not still actively talk to your former classmates, but there they are, "blowing up" your feed with posts from their weekend festivities, recent vacations, and life updates. Sure, you and Sally Smith may have parted ways after your senior prom fiasco, vowing never to speak to each other again, but you do know where she works, that she recently got promoted, is moving in with her boyfriend, and has dyed her hair a horrific shade of blonde.

That's the thing. Facebook takes all of that anticipation and "magic," we'll say, out of the high school reunion. You already know everything that has happened to your classmates post-graduation, and yet, you show up to the reunion location, asking the appropriate small talk questions, as if you didn't already know everything they were doing. They might fill in the blanks, yes, but if you're just asking due to a technicality, then what's the point? The thrill just isn't there. 

There's a certain expectation that when you go to a high school reunion, you'll learn new things about your former classmates and have refreshing and exciting interactions with them -- the kind you wouldn't have been able to have when you were in school together because you had such a familiar history. Even only five years removed from high school, you are (hopefully) not the same person you were when you got that high school diploma. You're also (hopefully) no longer just an extension of the "click" or social group you represented when you were in school. However, with Facebook granting us all access to each other's lives, we cannot escape that high school hierarchy or categorization because we don't have time to grow and develop away from the watchful eyes of those very same classmates who placed us in those hierarchies and categories to begin with. Inevitably, we show up at our high school reunions reverting to the same clicks/groups as opposed to intermingling and learning new things about our classmates.

Okay, I'll admit, the interactions at my high school reunion weren't entirely limited to the people I was friends with way back when, but I do think that with Facebook, it's harder for us to escape those former stereotypes, and even harder to reconnect in a way that's meaningful and mature past our high school years. We have the potential to keep in touch with our former flames, or poke an old friend, and even though preserving that connection via social media isn't necessarily bad, it is rendering an event like the high school reunion to lose some of its luster and appeal. 

I'm interested to see what happens in another five years. I anticipate that with time, as we move away from our hometown and make our way further into the real world, my classmates and I will finally be able to have a proper reunion. Til then, I'm going to limit my Facebook poking to those in my current circle only. You've been warned.

I referenced this once, and now it's stuck in my head; therefore, I must share it with you.

The Boyfriend Card

This is only semi-relevant to this blog post... If by wizard's chess you mean "flirting at bars" and if by normal chess you mean "talking to people" and if by "muggles" you mean you are in a relationship and by "wizards" you mean single people???
Did you get all of that?

Sometimes, I feel as though the bar scene is akin to that of a game of chess.  Now, I don’t actually know how to play chess, aside from very basic knowledge and a failed attempt at game play in middle school, but I at least know that in chess, your movements are entirely dependent and reactive to those of your opponent. You size up your opponent, try to calculate their next move, and in return, develop your own strategy in the process. And really, how much different is this then our interactions with each other at a bar? Not much –though, probably a lot less intellectual.

Once you’re locked into this flirtatious chess game with your new bar-friend of choice and you’ve determined that they want to check your mate*, what happens if – insert ominous music here – you have a boyfriend? Sure, you’re enjoying the exchange with your pseudo-new-friend and find the banter to be above par for a conversation noticeably under-the-influence, but you’re not exactly going to drop your current beau in lieu of a flirtation with little potential to exist outside of the two beers you’re sharing.

So that leads me to ask: when do you drop the boyfriend card? You know what I’m talking about – when do you bring up the fact that, yes, although you are reacting to his moves by flirting and smiling and laughing at all of his not-so-funny jokes, you actually are not interested in progressing form the bar to the bedroom? The way he's making his moves and playing the game -- touching your arm, making eye contact, complimenting to you -- suggests that you need to react with moves that continue the game-play without leading him on but also, without making him ditch you solely because you have a boyfriend.

You must tread lightly, my friend -- just as you can't move certain chess pieces at the beginning of the game, you can't just make the preemptive strike by bringing up the boyfriend. Not every guy who talks to a girl at a bar is trying to hit on her. And while it's pretty likely that this guy may be hitting on you, it's not a given. By moving the "boyfriend" piece at the beginning of the conversation, you run the risk of sounding pretentious and narcissistic. You're talking to someone who you, at this point, are getting along with, and run the risk of alienating. Some guys -- believe it or not -- will still talk to you even if you have a boyfriend, so start the game off with the boyfriend card, and you risk losing out on having a nice conversation with a nice person.

Okay, so you can’t open up the conversation with a good ol’ fashioned, “hey, nice to meet you. I have a boyfriend.” That much has been established. Yet, I’m fully aware that the further the conversation progresses, the more likely it is that the omission of your non-single-status could be an item of contention. Obviously, you want to be truthful, but you don't want to lead this guy on. He keeps moving closer to capturing your pawn, and lady, your pawn has already been captured.* 

Be subtle. Throw your boyfriend into the conversation in a subtle, yet gentle way. Everyone knows that, when you're at a bar, you run the risk of flirting with someone who already has a boyfriend/girlfriend, but that doesn't mean that they're solely out for some pirate's booty every night. Sure, there will be the occasional guy who forfeits the game as soon as he finds out you're already the object of someone else's affection, but who wants to continue to talk to those guys anyway? For the nice guys out there who are having a good time talking to you regardless, there's no reason to lead the poor chap on. If I'm talking about basketball with a guy, I'll slide in a boyfriend reference by saying, "Oh yeah, that's my boyfriend's favorite sport, even though I don't really like it much" or if we're talking about a particular place, I'll mention "yeah, my boyfriend loves that bar." It's not in-your-face, but it's enough to let the person know that, alas, at the end of the night, you'll be going home to someone else.

Ultimately, the point is not to sound so contrived. Hell, you're just having a conversation with another person. Be friendly, be nice, be you. When you're talking about yourself, inevitably, it happens that you bring up a friend or a family member, so just throw the boyfriend in there too. There have been times when I've mentioned that "I have a boyfriend" early on in the conversation and have been met with the response, "Oh, I wasn't trying to hit on you." Even if said guy wasn't actually trying to hit on me, I made the rest of what had been a good conversation awkward. I've since just tried to go with the flow. Next time you're out and chatting with a friendly fellow, just be sure that you're reading his moves and responding with the right ones -- yeah, you're taken, but you're not opposed to some more banter. After all, I'm at a bar to engage in fun conversations and have a good time. And aren't we all just people trying to have a good time?

 *Bad chess puns. Don't hate me.

** Unrelated asterisk -- don't throw the boyfriend card to get rid of guys you don't like. That's mean. You're above that.

Me, Myself and I Go to the Movies

memegenerator.net 

For some, Saturday night is typically classified as "date night" -- the night where you go out with that one special person, paint the town red, purple and pink and hopefully have a few cocktails in the process. In general, Saturday night is reserved for all sorts of fun, but basically that fun includes multiple participants in the form of either pairs, threesomes (if you're into that -- good for you) or groups of innumerable members. 

We look upon those who spend this holy night (holy in the sense that you revere and worship free time to party!) riding solo, folding their laundry while watching Gilmore Girls re-runs as social anomalies and hermits. Why waste the wide-open freedom of Saturday night and the subsequent promise of  Sunday morning hangover-recovery-time? And better yet, why be alone? Why not include a friend in those precious work and commitment-free hours? It seems as though everyone and their mother, grandmother and great-grandmother plan their Saturday nights around doing something -- anything --  with someone -- anyone -- so why not participate and join a friend for questionable revelries?

I usually am one of these people. My Saturdays are saved for going out, hanging with old friends, chatting up new friends and hopefully, finding a DJ that will submit to my Whitney Houston requests. This past Saturday, though, I joined the ranks of those who choose a path of solitary companionship. 

I braved the new world of doing things with me, myself and I alone and decided to go out on a date with myself.

It wasn't that I couldn't have found something to do that involved human interaction. It was a deliberate decision. Despite the fact that I am a self-proclaimed chatty Cathy, I wanted some time sans external dialogue and conversation. I was okay with limiting my interaction to the internal dialogue that exists inside my head. That was just fine. 

My options were to stay home alone with my dog and watch a movie or go out alone and watch a movie. I already had a cute outfit on, my hair looked good and I was energized for the night to begin, so I figured I might as well go out. I had time, I was free, and there was a movie I wanted to see -- why should I let the fact that I didn't have a "date" or hadn't made plans with someone deter me from doing something that I wanted to do? Exactly. I shouldn't and I didn't. So I went to the movies.

It was my first solo movie experience. Despite the fact that watching a movie requires minimal conversation and optimal silence, it seems as though attending a movie in theaters is an experience relegated to pairs and groups. I went to the theater, bought my ticket, grabbed a snack and found a single seat.

Sitting alone, I realized that being alone at the theater wasn't a bad thing. I didn't care what people thought. There was no reason to feel bad for me -- I wasn't being stood up nor was I an outcast or loner of some sort. I reveled in the silence and took in the people watching pre-movie. It was ideal. Once the movie started, I was free from interruptions or commentary (even though I'm usually the one providing it). I stretched out, didn't worry about hogging the armrests and relaxed -- almost as good as being on my own couch, except I was shrouded in the mass of people, which made me feel like I was out and doing something. And I was.

I thought that going by myself might feel a little weird, but it wasn't for the most part.There's nothing particularly revolutionary about seeing a person alone at the movies.  Plenty of people show up sans +1 in tow or are in line waiting for a snack while they're friend takes in the pre-movie. Sure, there were a few times when I was very aware of the fact that I was alone -- like when I was waiting for my overpriced pizza to be given to me at the snack-stand or when I had to ask to purchase just one ticket -- but those things really weren't a big deal. People who go to the movies in pairs and groups have to deal with those things sometimes too.

The best part about being by myself, though, was that I was in complete and total control of my movie-going experience, only needing to focus on what would provide me (myself, alone) the best movie-going experience. I didn't have to worry about meeting and finding my movie companion beforehand, and once the movie was over, I could bounce out of there without having to wait for said movie companion to hit the bathroom or throw their trash away. My night was relaxing. Once the movie was over, I was free to go out somewhere else or head home. I was no longer confined to going places or attending parties/events with a date! I felt empowered in that I could go somewhere alone that generally holds the stigma of being a +1 activity.

Is this growing up? Am I just more comfortable with the person that I am and can stand to be alone with that person? Am I just now old enough to be responsible for myself and therefore, not necessarily in need of constant companionship? Probably a combination of all of those things. And probably the fact that sometimes, you just don't want to share your movie snacks.

What's Next?

Ah, Bloggerverse. It's always a challenge trying to communicate news and change to you, my followers. How much of an introduction should I give to said news? Should I ease into it? Should I just let my title give it away? Are these rhetorical questions enough of a build-up to stir some anxiety and anticipation within you as you now begin to wonder what it is I am going to tell you?

This story goes all the way back to last fall as I braced myself for life's big transition: from student to adult -- leaving the undergrad world for the cold, harsh reality of working hard for my money and moving back home with the "roomies." By that December as I neared my last few weeks at school, I had done minimal job hunting, lots of fun-having and only a little bit of philosophical thinking. While considering my options as I approached this inevitable change, I decided that, perhaps, I should return to the classroom the following fall to continue my education and pursue a masters degree. I did what I needed to do to make it happen: requested reference letters and transcripts, took the GREs, wrote required essays, and completed several applications -- applying to four schools and patiently waiting to hear whether my pursuit into another realm of higher education would continue come the fall of 2012.

After graduating, I was even more set on returning to grad school. It made sense. I loved being in the classroom, I wanted another degree, and I had the momentum from only just recently finishing up my undergraduate degree. I was ready. I was eager... and then I was torn. As I received acceptances and rejections, I realized: this was going to be an expensive endeavor and was I really sure? Was I willing to make a commitment to this costly continuation of my education right now? I wasn't 100% dedicated to the degree I had applied to pursue (journalism) and the cost of tuition was daunting. I made the decision to postpone my return to grad school until I was more certain of the degree I wanted to pursue and that grad school, in general, was a step I wanted to take.

As the first few months of summer went by, I was a 9-to-5 ingenue. Only having been at my job for so long, being a cubicle crony was still a novelty, and yet, the thought of returning to grad school was still lingering in my mind. I had since given more thought to the degree path I wanted to pursue, exploring a variety of options and programs, doing more research than I had ever done as an undergrad into the prospect of going back to school. I was more aware and realistic this time. I knew what needed to be done, what it would cost and the compromises I was willing to make.

So I applied. Again. This time, though, I applied to communications-based programs (such as public relations and integrated marketing communications) and one fashion program. I re-wrote the essays, re-requested the transcripts and reference letters and filled out a few more applications this time. I wrote down deadlines, requirements and filed important emails away for reference. I wasn't kidding around this time -- I knew, for sure, that I wanted to go back to school. I missed writing essays, engaging in scholarly discussion/debate and immersing myself in a wholly academic atmosphere where the people around me wanted to be there and also wanted to learn. I missed that. I needed the challenging intellectual stimulation that my desk job just wasn't giving me. I wasn't satisfied with my cubicle confinement and I had the urge to learn -- an urge that, I have a feeling, never has (and probably never will) leave me.

I continued at my desk job, waiting for a response from the various schools and this time, it was even more positive. I got into 5/6 schools and of those schools' acceptances, I got very generous scholarships to each. This time, the ball was in my court -- each school had given me great offers and I was no longer in a position where I needed to scrounge for dollars and cents to make it all work. Inside, I was elated -- an internal fiesta took place as I celebrated these little victories, finally culminating after years of hard work as a student.I could return to school and I wasn't going to go broke in the process! Isn't that what we all aspire to accomplish in this day and age?

My decision was tough -- I battled with the pros and cons of each school, but ultimately, it came down to two, which were both excellent options. One would have required me to take a pre-requisite undergraduate class, move to the South and take out a lot more in loans; the other would allow me to stay local, offering me a very generous financial package and teaching assistantship and the option of spending my last semester interning and taking classes in London. Ultimately, I accepted the offer to the local school -- they have an excellent program, a great alumni base and a positive reputation for post-graduate employment opportunities. Plus, their generous financial package allows me to take out very minimal loans (if I even have to). I can breathe a big sigh of relief -- I am finally going to make it happen.

So there you have it, folks. I am returning to the classroom this fall -- both as a student and as a teacher. I'll admit, I'm equally excited and nervous to make the transition back to school, since I've spent the last year working, but I think I'm ready. I'll prepare for the new challenge and you can prepare yourselves for some new blog posts -- how's that sound?

In the words of Billy Madison, here goes nothin.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uMtkiS1SU_c

Reconciling My Wants with My Wallet

http://shoppingonline230.wordpress.com/2012/11/08/online-shopping-memes/

It’s your traditional tale of head versus heart – two foes often at battle with each other, generally over matters of romance, friendship, pursuing life’s passions and risks. The rational, logical side of you engages in a tango with the emotional, passionate side, only to leave you with a list of pros and cons and perhaps an incurable headache. For me, these days, these two formidable opponents have been tangled up in what seems to be a never-ending struggle for me: saving money.

Every time I go to check my bank account, I trepidatiously view the numbers and then have either one of two reactions: 1.) a mixture of surprise and relief at how little I spent in between paychecks or, more often than not, 2.) disappointment and guilt. How did I get to that number? Where did my money go? As I mentally comb through each purchase or payment, I wonder if some of them were really necessary.

Endless hours browsing through fashion blogs, Pinterest and my favorite shopping cites leave me foaming at the mouth, hands trembling above the “place order” button as I justify purchasing yet another pair of shoes. My email inbox is filled with my favorite stores notifying me of their scorching sales or of how my favorite items are selling fast – tempting, teasing, taunting. Once the few bills I have are paid, I am left to decide whether to save my money or spend it. Though the logical side of me (and my bank statement) may push me to save, the emotional and fashion-hungry side of me pushes me to spend.

I suppose this is the challenge that comes with having a big-girl salary for the first time in my life. After all, this isn’t the first time I’ve blogged about the budget blues and I suspect that this won’t be the last. I still struggle with reconciling all of these wants with my wallet and lately, I find that it has been more difficult than usual as I have too much time to browse and window-shop. For the most part, I tend to veer towards being more responsible with my money, but every now and then, I get caught up in satisfying that want. With social media’s over-exposure to the “latest,” “newest” and “trendiest” of things in conjunction with a personal affection for fashion and style blogs, I have to remind myself of all of the things I currently have and all of the financial goals I have for later, such as: paying off my car loan and moving into an apartment. These things will probably be more satisfying in the long run than the immediate satisfaction of a new pair of shoes or splurging on a fancy dinner, but it can be difficult to see that when taking a walk through Nordstrom or viewing a killer sale on Shopbop.

So how do I tame my “wants” in an effort to protect my wallet? I’m hoping that some new changes to my life and its schedule (more on that later) will fill my daily activity with more productivity and less idle-time for browsing, which generally causes me to fall prey to making a trip to the mall or to being ensnared by online shopping. Maybe I can even get rid of some of those emails from shopping sites I frequent so that my inbox isn't littered with justifications on another purchase (why be tempted?) I’ve also tried to keep a running “shopping list:” things that I want to add to my closet and/or need (such as specific toiletries) so that when I go to the mall or to a place like CVS, I can stick to buying only things that I’ve rendered essential beforehand to cut down on impulse purchases (because I really don’t need five crop tops, do I?) So I guess that leaves us all wondering: will it work? Who knows-- check back in a few months to see if my wallet is overflowing as opposed to my closet.  Stranger things have happened, right?

An Exercise Epiphany

http://workoutmemes.com/skip-the-gym-today/

A funny thing happened to me over the weekend. No, I wasn't bitten by one of my friends nor did I embarrass myself by drinking too many Dirty Girl Scouts. This funny "thing" that happened was actually more of a surprising revelation. As the weekend drew to a close and I looked ahead at my schedule for the upcoming week, I realized that -- gasp -- I was looking forward to my workouts.

You see, I've never been the athletic type nor have I been someone drawn to exercise by some sort of innate desire to be active. I'll admit, more often than not, getting myself to work out has generally been hard work (you've read this post about it, right?). I have  often just been one of those people that have associated "working out" with a type of chore -- another thing I have to fit into my life. Yes, I know that there are so many healthy benefits to working out and staying active, but I just couldn't find something that could fit into my schedule and that, to me, wasn't synonymous with masochism.

In spite of this, I have continually searched for workouts that would prove to be the perfect fusion of fun and effective. At the end of the day, I do strive to be healthy and it would be nice to have a bikini-ready bod throughout the year. It wasn't until the past month, though, that I realized that I had finally achieved the sort of synthesis I was looking for. By incorporating a variety of workouts throughout the week, I may have just found the perfect combination for me.

I've been trying to keep up with my yoga classes, my TRX class and, recently, dance fitness classes throughout the week. By making small, easily attainable goals, I find myself able to make it to these workouts and want to go to more. 

I knew that it would be unrealistic to commit to "as many yoga classes a week as possible," even though I would love to make it to more classes. Instead, I told myself "try to make it to just one a week," and have been able to make sure I incorporate yoga into my weekly workout routine. Then there's my weekly TRX class -- also one night a week with a group of my neighbors. I know it's always going to be at the same time, so I schedule around it. Throw in my Saturday morning dance/fitness class, which is late enough that I can still go out the night before, yet early enough to kickstart my day, and I've made it to three workouts a week! While this in and of itself is no extraordinary feat, I still am getting in great and effective workouts throughout the week.

I think I owe part of my success in making it to these workouts to the fact that they're all community/group-based workouts. While I do have to be motivated to attend the workouts, I have a support system -- whether it is the community at my yoga studio, my neighbors who do TRX with me, or my cousin who comes to my weekend workout -- that encourages me to attend and makes the experience more than just a means to great abs and toned legs. These workouts have become a social activity too, which allows me to feel as though I'm accomplishing more than just checking-off that work-out box. Instead, I can also get in some valuable social time with great people and even have a laugh or two in the process.

Another reason I think I've been enjoying my workouts is because of the variety. I don't just go to the gym every day, run for 20 minutes, lift weights and have a go at the StairMaster. I switch things up by attending different types of classes that engage in fitness in different ways. All of my instructors switch up their workouts every week too, which makes me excited to try something new out when I step into the studio/gym. This variety coupled with the communities participating invigorates me and motivates me to attend classes -- making me excited to go, ready to challenge myself and eager to do even more.

I was shocked when I found myself telling my cousin (who will not be able to make next weekend's dance workout) that I was still going to go to class, even though she wasn't going to be there. Willingly wanting to wake up for a two hour workout on Saturday morning? That was when I had my epiphany. I had settled into a routine that worked for me, and dare I say it, I find myself enjoying my workouts.

Guess we'll see pigs flying next, right?

Can I Buy You a Drink?

From 21st century master composer T-Pain

We're all familiar with the scenario: it's Saturday night, you're leaning over at the bar attempting to catch the bartender's attention and order yourself a vodka tonic. Teetering on your heels, your patience is being tested as you think, "What's a girl got to do to get a drink around here?" -- a cliché that, up until right now, had always seemed reserved for bad, fictional screenplays as opposed to real life.

This brief period of drinklessness, however, serves as the perfect opening for the fella or group of fellas standing right beside you at the bar, waiting for their own even-more-hopeless chance at getting a round of drinks. You’re all vying for the same thing and this, inevitably, leads to a new sense of camaraderie, and therefore, opportunity.

You know how it goes: girl starts walkin, guy starts gawkin, already standing next to you and starts talking. All of a sudden, you're engaged in a verbal tango, a tête-à-tête at the bar, and this once-stranger is now the subject of your weekend flirtation. As you and this no-longer stranger bond over shared observations of the scene, the bartender finally recognizes your lack of cocktails and points toward your new friend, implying he’s ready to make you some drinks. That’s when the once-stranger-now-friend turns to you and asks, “What are you having? Let me buy you a drink.”

Up until this point, it has all been so seamless and easy. Girl meets guy. Guy meets girl. Someone needs a drink and you’re both in the perfect location to get one. But is it okay to let your new friend pick up the tab? Should you embrace the generosity or stand firm in your feminist resolve? What does it all mean?

I have found myself in this exact situation too many times to count. Regardless of whether or not I’m single or in a relationship, I am never quite sure as to what the protocol is. There are so many different components that affect my acceptance or polite decline—all of which are scenario dependent and thus, dispelling any hope of issuing a standard “rule” as to how to handle the situation.

I’ll be honest—my first inclination is to accept the drink. I’m a girl on a budget and saving $10 on a cocktail sounds pretty appealing. However, I recognize that this might not always be the best course of action as there are implications and repercussions to an innocent “sure, I’ll take a vodka tonic.”

When I accept a drink from a guy, I usually offer good conversation (on top of our current one), some mild (harmless) flirtation and my phone number (if I’m single) in exchange. I like to think that this is a fair trade. When I’m out with my friends, I think nothing of buying them a drink or two because they’re offering me their company, I enjoy being with them and I know that my friends will do the same for me. Sure, it may be a bit naïve of me to think that a bit of witty banter and batting of the eyelashes is enough to satisfy my new friend after he has graciously bought me a beverage. But at the same time, to think that I would offer anything more than that is presumptuous on the part of the suitor.

Last Thursday night, I was the girl in this scenario, yet again. I was standing alone at the bar waiting to be served when the gentleman next to me offered to buy my drink. I had been waiting for my boyfriend and a few guy friends to meet me, so I politely turned the gentleman down, worried that accepting a drink from him meant that I was contracted to a certain amount of flirtation and interest. If I hadn’t been meeting a bunch of guys for drinks, would I have accepted the free drink? Perhaps. But the fact that I had a group of fellas joining me shortly felt a bit manipulative of me – I didn’t want this guy, stranger or not, to think that I was only paying him any attention in the hopes that I could get him to open his wallet up to me. In accepting a drink from him, I would've been implying a certain degree of interest in him, our conversation and continuing/committing to that conversation -- something that wasn't the case this time.

Ultimately, I think the whole situation comes down to circumstance and the person you meet. Are you being open and honest about your intentions? Are you both having a good time? The times when I do accept a drink from a guy (single or not single) are when I’m having a good time and we're both getting along. I’m clear about my intentions and give the guy realistic expectations about what’s going to happen post-drink. 

The times when I don’t accept a drink from a guy? If I don't feel any sort of vibe/chemistry and the conversation doesn't seem to go anywhere, then I'll decline. Obviously, you shouldn't accept a drink from anyone who makes you uncomfortable, seems pushy or offers it to you in a white van. And don't be that girl who accepts the free drink just to say that she got a free drink. 

At the end of the night, you want to make sure that you treated the opponent of your verbal-sparring match with integrity and respect, regardless of whether or not you were offered a drink. The whole point of going out is to have fun and meet good people. If you're lucky enough to be the recipient of someone's generosity, make sure to match it with a gracious thank you, and heck, treat them to a drink in return!