This warms my heart.

Even with all of us riddled with insomnia over a widespread recession, a nationwide love and money survey by TRUE.com, the leading scientifically based online relationship service, shows that singles choose love over money even in tough economic times.

The results:

– 95 percent of men and 87 percent of women agree that it does not
matter if you make more money than the person you are dating;
– 49 percent of men and 36 percent of women stated they would not curb
their dating spending in a tight economy;
– 87 percent of men and 80 percent of women responded they would stay in
a relationship where their partner had substantial credit card debt or
had filed for bankruptcy;
– 67 percent of women and 66 percent of men claim they have never kept
financial secrets from someone they are dating;
– 64 percent of men and 63 percent of women don’t tend to argue with
their partner about money.

Of course, it’s possible 80% of these people are not telling the truth. But still, it makes me feel good to read!

TRUE.com’s love and money survey also found the following:
– Dating or Bust, We Aren’t Scared of a Recession. In good times and in bad, daters will continue their search for love. After the No. 1 response of not halting their dating spending (see above), 20 percent of women and 23 percent of men said they plan to spend less on eating out and focus more on romantic dinner dates at home. Only 2 percent of men and 1 percent of women stated that higher gas prices will affect when, where, and how they date.
– Don’t Worry, Be Happy, We Have Money. Of those surveyed, 73 percent of men and 68 percent of women feel secure in their current financial
situation. The majority of respondents, both female and male, described themselves as the following when it comes to their finances: comfortable (women 46 percent, men 52 percent), confident (women 15 percent, men 19 percent), proud (women and men both 7 percent). Only 23 percent of men and 32 percent of women characterized their present financial environment as negative, choosing from terms such as embarrassment, fright or horror to describe their finances.
– Let’s Talk About Sex — or Money. When respondents were asked what
topics couples should talk more about (including money, sex, marriage,
parenting or nothing), results show that men and women definitely have
different priorities when it comes to discussing sex or money. Men
rated: sex No. 1 at 29 percent, followed by nothing at 22 percent,
with money in third place at 21 percent. Women put money talk in the
top spot at 33 percent followed by: nothing at 29 percent, marriage
at 16 percent and sex ranking fourth at 15 percent.
– Donna Summer Knows How People Feel About Money. Because individuals love music almost as much as they love money, respondents were asked to choose which song best represents how they feel about money. An
overwhelming majority (81 percent of women and 50 percent of men)
chose the Donna Summer’s 1970s disco classic “She Works Hard for the
Money.” It also appears that more men (5 percent) than women
(2 percent) associate with Kanye West’s song “Gold Digger,” and are
looking for women to take care of their financial needs. Other
responses include:
– “Money (That’s What I Want)” sung by The Beatles (men 22 percent,
women 3 percent)
– “Bill, Bills, Bills” sung by Destiny’s Child (men 10 percent,
women 8 percent)
– “Material Girl” sung by Madonna (men 5 percent, women 4 percent)
– “It’s All About the Benjamins” sung by P. Diddy (men 9 percent,
women 2 percent)

– Women Will Stand By Their Man, But You Better Treat Them Right. Less than 1 percent of women felt they should pay for the first date, while 78 percent of men believe it was their duty to pick up the tab. Good
news for men hoping to keep more money in their wallet: 25 percent of
women polled found splitting the bill was appropriate, and 22 percent
of women thought that whoever did the asking out should take care of
the check.
– No Substitute for Good Old-Fashioned Hard Work. One-third of men and women responded they have worked a second job to get out of debt.
After a second job, singles responded they accepted money from family and friends (women 22 percent, men 16 percent) or cashed in their investments (women 16 percent, men 19 percent) to get back in the black.

“Dripping water hollows out a stone.”

This Ovid quote is haunting me today.

Initially, I saw it sprawled across the architecture at Grand Central Station as I rushed along the hallway to get my morning coffee. I did not stop, but paused, realizing the depth of the phrase.

Then, as I sat aboard a train, I pulled out galleys of a book I reading. Again, I saw this quote, upon the pages of the proofs.

When Ovid, who has been dead since around the time of Christ, starts stalking you throughout your morning commute, you can’t help but take notice.

The words are clearly a comment on the nature of the universe, and I can’t help that this long-dead poet is trying to send me a message.

Alas, perhaps it’s just some sort of classical deity form of gas-lighting. Those crazy Roman poets!

I have a tendency to lead with my heart on my sleeve, and this has led to some very un-even and unhealthy friendships. People to whom I give of myself with my all, only to have it unappreciated, unreturned, or just disrespected. Of course, this over time leads to trust issues, and it gets harder and harder to give that all to others, no matter how deserving they may be.

A recent blowout friendship-demise had me especially reeling, and I was ready to close the bridge of friend generosity. That was until some sage advice was presented to me, and I realized that while some people may not well receive what is given to them, that I still give it and believe it in it is what is more important.

Tony Robbins (yes, he’s a self-help guru, but he’s surprisingly inspirational), says:

Beliefs have the power to create and the power to destroy. Human beings have the awesome ability to take any experience of their lives and create a meaning that disempowers them or one that can literally save their lives.

Basically, we direct our lives, and we have the power to make it a masterpiece or a failure - and no matter how crappy the periphery of our world tends to be, whether they call you names or use you or are jealous/put you down, that has nothing to do with how well we direct our lives, and us maintaining consistent control and belief in our actions.

And as long as we believe that, no toxic people can ruin our stride. So, for any of you who may be feeling a little disempowered or frustrated with your life or your jobs or your friends (or anything else), try to keep that in mind. And remind me next time I forget

Perhaps it is the copy editor in me, but I find punctuation to be a very interesting indicator of mood, and personality.

For instance, if you receive a text message or IM that says:

Thanks.

Would you see that as terse? I would. Same for email tone…placement of things such as periods often connotes not just grammar-friendliness, but people-friendliness and can make a world of difference in how an email is received, regardless of the content.

I call out to my other compulsive friends and readers for thoughts - or your own examples of this phenomenon!

“Sometimes me think, what is love? And then me think love is what last cookie is for. Me give up the last cookie for you.”

So said Cookie Monster, who turned out to be quite the wise sage. The inherent concept is a great gauge of our relationships, their frailties, and how confident we feel within them. While I’d freely give my last cookie away…I can’t think of anyone at all who would do that for me. Even those who profess to love me. And doesn’t that pretty much says it all?

Which brings us to the question: Is it wrong to let that bother us? Should we love freely, and not let ourselves be bogged down by some great big blackboard tally? Is generosity something that should be metered in return value? Is that just bad karma? Or is it only fair — and justified - to want to be cared about as much as we care? To get out of the universe what we put into it?

I like to think we can propel that magic big cookie to be returned by ourselves doling out the biggest, fudgiest one we can. But that just may be setting me up for a bigger disappointment, ultimately.

Oh well. Who needs cookies anyway.

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You know how sometimes you don’t recognize the people in your life, if you interact with them in other settings?

Such as, you see your bud from work - someone you may talk to every day - at a local bar - and for a moment, you aren’t even sure it’s them. Then you come face to face, and you don’t know what to say. Suddenly, this person you giggle with during work lulls on a regular basis is someone you are making small talk about weather with as you covertly glance toward the door.

Even worse though is when it’s good friends, with other friends, and when they see you in an unexpected surrounding, they act oddly awkward. As if they don’t really know how to relate to you in the company of these other people, or relate to the “them” they may be while with different sections of their crowd.

I cannot judge, because I do it too. In fact, I have often found I am very frightened at mixing friends. Years ago, I introduced two close gal pals over a shared happy hour at a Thai bar, and it was an evening riddled with pregnant pauses. Two years later, I reattempted this at a magazine party, and it happened again. But worse, I noticed myself to be weird around them…like trying to simultaneously be the me I was with each to both of them…at the same time.

It’s human nature, to reveal distinct parts of yourself, depending on the corner of your world, and be unsure how to react when those worlds collide. And while it’s easy to interpret that awkward collision as being shunned, it seems to just be the dust of the ensuing reaction. Or whatever.

This same scenario is repeated throughout the annals of my history, with all my crews. I used to attempt to invite my college crowd out to parties with my current artist-writer-musician-friend crowd, and was ashamed to realize I spent half the evening frightened to death the former crowd would embarrass me in front of the latter, newer crowd I still found myself so enamored with and eager to impress. And the reality? The lack of comfort is probably indicative of a flaw inherent in the relationship in the first place.

Still, when you know…hope…that is not the case, it feels weird when it happens to you. So weird that, for once, I have no desire to partake in my current cafe’s baked goods. (Small favors!)

Amy Zalneraitis, author of Room for Improvement, just emailed me with a link to an article that appeared in The New York Post yesterday. I think it’s something ALL of us need to read and relate to!

http://www.nypost.com/seven/03042008/entertainment/bff_you__100290.htm 

Update:

It appears that friend drama from yesterday may have been exaggerated. Or, she is backpedaling.

Further update: I have perhaps decided I do not care. My friend Amy Zalneraiti, author of Room for Improvement, emailed me after reading my blog yesterday and told me about an upcoming interview she did with the New York Post where she gives a host of reasons why friends should not attempt to live together. (In short, they eventually tend to become non-friends.)

This left me thinking, and I last night discussed the issue with some of my nearest and dearest. Perhaps this “tragedy” is actually an opening to an even better opportunity, and “friend 2″ has done me a tremendous favor!

Shall keep you posted!

Clearly, I am destined to be real-estate stagnated for the remainder of my existence.

For about two years, I went through the process of searching for an apartment with an old, close friend of mine. We searched in two states, several boroughs, and eventually realized we were not only incompatible as room mates, but probably as best friends. She decided she was over the concept of living with room mates, at all, hated the mere idea of Brooklyn (most of her friends have their own places on the Upper East Side…the shame!), and pretty much saw me, and all my closest friends, as immature derelict slummers in fashionable shoes.

We’re not best friends anymore.

After that didn’t work out, I attempted to hook up with another old, good friend of mine. A friend who I’d sit over with martinis with at regular intervals and discuss how while friend A and I were having all these problems, we would be perfect together. We’d wistfully plot our perfect co-dwelling post-friend-1 breakup, and one day, our dream finally came true.

Excitedly, she met me for brunch in Park Slope. It was raining, she was sick. She was sort of quiet the rest of the day, but swore to be excited. She programmed agent numbers into her Blackberry. This, I maintain, is commitment. Over the period of the next few months, I would email and research brokers. I’d send her all the exciting Craigslist ads I found. I was psyched. She said she was too.

This morning, after forwarding her an email I had written a broker that had been referred to us, she emailed back that “Brooklyn was no longer an option”. I replied I was saddened and confused that I wasted all this time (that I do not have) when we were clearly not on the same page. I was told to drop the attitude, and that if it was an option for me, it was not a time waste.

Apparently, she’s very familiar with the “I” in Team concept.

It appears I may be “single” again. This thought petrified me. (Will I hit thirty and still be …. living with my parents…?)

And thus, the book that was sent to me was perfectly timed. Room for Improvement, by Amy Zalneraitis, is a great guide to the dark side of splitting rent.

In the book, Amy discusses the whole range of psycho room mate squabbles. It’s a total real and pretty-funny guide to roommate living for the young-adult not-so-financially-secure-to-have-her-own-place woman.

It essentially explains how cooperation can lead to smoother cohabitation. (Something I thus far have not been lucky enough to experience.) Totally based on the experiences of herself and her best friends, Amy delivers essential roommate dos and don’ts, hilarious (and often horrifying) anecdotes, and invaluable tips from experts, and covers such sanity-saving topics as:

* Checks and Imbalances: Keeping Financial Friction at Bay
* Idiosyncrasies or Idiosyncrazies? There’s Eccentric, and Then There’s Psychotic
* Dust Bunnies Are Not Real Pets: What to Do with a Filthy Roommate
* Is That My Underwear You’re Wearing? Sharing Clothes Without Exchanging Blows

This is a book I highly recommend everyone run right out and buy. That is, after giving ME some advice before I go postal on the entire real estate market.

Or just my two friends. Perhaps being “single” is the best plan of all…

There’s nothing like a night of winter weather in New York City. You know that cinematic view you may have viewed of white billowy clouds of snow? Not so much. Try muddy, slushy, messy, grossness.

However, my beautiful surroundings have given me the opportunity to do some reflective reasoning. And because you are my near, my dear, and my soap box, you will be my captive audience.

1 - I have the inability to say no. All day today, various friends and gigs have asked me to complete a domino-effect of tasks for them. “Read this?” “Make this call?” “Get that contact?” “Do that research?” I find myself so overextended that having time to sleep and properly groom is sometimes an issue, but am compelled into submission by my inherent fear of disappointing people. Just wait for the mass chaos the world-through when I eventually go batty and my worth is finally realized.

2 - Cold conditions and being trapped in the house is terrible for one’s diet. So, looks like I will be fat *and* batty. How sexy an image is that?

Thank god for my bathrobe…it knows no girth.

Note to self: Frigid air is not an excuse to have that hot cocoa, unless you want to spend the remainder of your Friday nights at home in said bathrobe, feeling equally sorry for yourself. Such a reality would thus render the current blog you are reading, well, moot.

3 - I really need to clean. I’m suffocating in my own surroundings.

4 - Related. Remember the panty fire of a few weeks ago? Apparently my favorite silk PJs were too a victim. (No, this is not a plea for more stuff!)

5. This is quite possibly my most depressing blog ever. I promise to give away something shiny next week to make up for it. Then again, I was told in a recent conference call that women readers allegedly are drawn to reading what they themselves feel. So perhaps those of you who are too home and feeling sad can feel the bond. Then we can go back to talking about sex lingerie and lip stick next week, feeling just a little bit closer.

PS: iZac is doing well…he thanks you for your well wishes!

I apologize for the crankiness. Perhaps it is time for a mass cyber hug (or some negative calorie chocolate). We return to you to your happy twilight snuggles.

PPS: Go see my friends Spiraling at Southpaw in Brooklyn this Wednesday, Feb. 27th. They rock. And if you tell me you read about the gig here, I’ll have a special surprise for you!

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