Mind the (Age) Gap

Demi Moore and Ashton Kutcher.  Susan Sarandon and Tim Robbins.  Madonna and Guy Ritchie.  Lucille Ball and Desi Arnez.  Older woman.  Younger man.  Clearly, it's not a new idea.  (At 26, Anne Hathaway was eight years older than her 18-year-old husband, William Shakespeare.)  But, recently, it seems to be almost en vogue.  For most of my life, I have lived by the rule that I only date men my age or older.  Men mature more slowly than women, so why would I subject myself to any more moronic a man than was absolutely necessary, right? 

My older-men-only rule has come under some serious fire lately, however.   First, because I met a few older men this year who called into question the assumption that with age comes wisdom.  In fact, after I kicked one prime less-than-honest specimen to the curb, he admitted to me that he had misled me because, at a full decade older than me, he was embarrassed that I had my life more "together" than he did.  While I applaud his (very tardy) honesty, it also served to impress upon me the hang-up most older men have with regard to the archaic image of the "man as provider."  Having spent some time lately with a few younger men, I have found that this idea that they must be the superior breadwinners in the relationship has seriously diluted over the last 15 years.  My (slightly older) ex-husband once told me that I was not allowed to mention my income (i.e. that I made more money than him), even when discussing our budget.   

However, an almost five-years-younger man I went out with recently expressed genuine enthusiasm at the thought of being a stay-at-home dad.  Society is ever evolving, so where is the wisdom in refusing to change our own ideas about archetypal relationship/family structures?  If anything, what the last few younger men have proved to me (by contrast with the older men) is that, with age, comes ego, if anything.

And why wouldn't it?  According to my friend Dr. M (a thoroughly macho man), men over thirty in a place like NYC develop a certain ego when it come to women as a result of having been messed around with during their 20s by women who are boring, manipulative, strategizing, self centered, and shallow.  By the time they reach 30, they are not only accomplished in their careers and financially stable, but they have tired of the games women their own age have been playing for the last ten years.  They just don't give a shit anymore, says Dr. M.  And by now, the 20-year-old women are also in their 30's, desperate, and baby-hungry.  What an opportunity for revenge -- especially now that the 30-year-old men can finally snag the 20-year-old women by playing the "wealth and power" card.  The older women may be more straightforward and mature in their third decade, but the older men are too fed-up to care.

I am beginning to think, however, that this may actually be to my advantage.  While I don't believe I qualify as a cougar just yet, I am old enough to have a whole decade of dateable men below me on the age-scale.  And, as I have been dipping into this pool of eligible bachelors lately, I am starting to notice the benefits of dating a younger man that earlier escaped me. 

I asked my Cleveland friend, JI, having just been married to a man a few years her junior, what she likes about being with a younger man. Among other things, she laughed and said that it only makes sense that she marry a younger man -- because women live longer than men, marrying a younger man decreased her chances of outliving him.  (This biological argument is, of course, countered by the fact that female fertility runs out quite a bit sooner than male fertility.) 

In all seriousness, though, younger men tend to have a slightly more flexible worldview (as discussed above with regard to relationship dynamics), which can be much more accommodating of the lifestyle of a career-focused woman.  Most of my girlfriends who are my age have been working very hard on their careers for a number of years, and are not all that excited to give up on all that sweat equity to make way for someone else's career ambitions.  It also doesn't hurt that, by 30, the career-focused woman is not that different than the 30-year-old man in that, not having been supported for the last decade, she is often more financially stable and less likely to choose a man for his ability to fund the relationship.

Plus, men in their 20s have more energy, are less jaded, and tend to be more active than men in their 30s.  These attributes lend a certain vitality to the relationship that keeps us women from stagnating, as so often happens when one is hitched to a husband who watches sports on the couch all weekend.  True, if men in their 20s today possess these general characteristics, then they probably did when we were in our 20s as well.  But, 20-year-old women are not really in a position to appreciate the positive aspects of the 20-year-old man, mainly because we were still all in a tizzy trying to find ourselves and control our environment at that age.

Women who have made it to 30 alive and single have often done so only by weathering significant storms on the relationship front.  Often we have had a few serious relationships (or marriages) by our age.  And while we may come to port a little emotionally battered, our experience has often made us less self-conscious and more emotionally stable when it comes to dealing with the ups and downs of a relationship.  We are less likely to be needy and more likely to be giving.  I can say from experience that I have changed more as a person in my 20s than I did during any other period in my life.  A few years can make a big difference in personal philosophies and romantic ideologies.  My 25-year-old cousin recently got engaged to his girlfriend, a woman six years his senior.  And while it took the oldest generation of my family a little time to get over the gap, seeing the two of them together makes the older woman-younger man phenomenon make sense.  The trials and tribulations (including a divorce) that she has endured have only served to make her deeper and more beautiful both physically and as a person.  And my cousin, with all of his youthful vim and vigor, is in a position not only to appreciate that about her but to express it with the energy and enthusiasm that she deserves.  While a younger woman still clings to the notion that love is the fancy, self-centered pink bubble that ends in marriage, an older one is more likely to have the perspective to know that marriage doesn't necessarily equate to love and to focus more on her partner than on herself.  (Plus, let's face it, we also have experience on other fronts that give all that 20-year-old man energy someplace to go...in the bedroom.)

Clearly, the older-men-only rule hasn't been working out all that well for me.  For years, it has seemed like I am just never on the same page with the men I dated.  When I was younger, I just couldn't figure out why they didn't seem interested in a relationship.  Now that I am a little older, I just can't seem to figure out why they do.  I have been theorizing lately that it must be because men and women age in reverse when it comes to relationships. 

Younger women often crave a committed relationship.  This might be due to societal pressure to get married and start a family, naivete about the nature of romantic love, or a basic insecurity.  In any case, most women I knew who were college age or slightly above had a pretty singular focus on finding the "one" and settling down.  As we have gotten older, those of us who have remained single have all but abandoned this former version of ourselves.  I would not say that we've gone so far as to be bitter or jaded, but we are definitely more realistic and less wistful.  We are less attached to idealized romance and more focused on just having fun.  If a relationship comes along, great, but most of my single girlfriends pushing 30 are just as (if not more) happy without one.  Marriage is not even on our radar.  Overall, we are as a group more adventurous, more easy going, and more willing to embrace the unknown.

The journey men take through their 20s and into their 30s seems to be the inverse of our own, however.  Many men in their early 20s are focused on their careers and establishing themselves as productive members of society.  They are still somewhat in "frat boy" mode, having fun with their friends and trying to figure out what women want.  This is all much to the consternation of women in their 20s the world over.  But, I have found that men, as they enter their thirties and find that they now have a career and stability, become more serious about finding a woman.  One of my savvy girlfriends analogizes men to taxi cabs in this way:  They drive around for decades with their lights off, closed for business, disappointing hopeful woman after hopeful woman on the curb.  But eventually, the day comes when they turn their lights on, ready to pick up a passenger, and the next eligible entrant is suddenly the "one".  At some point as they progress into their thirties, most men I have known turn their proverbial "lights" on.  And, maybe the reason so many of them seem to end up with cute, younger women is because those women are the ones who are ready to get in.  By the time the 30-year-old man turns on his light, however, the 30-year-old woman has left the curb in favor of hoofing it on her own.

This pattern is one of the reasons why younger men and older women are so perfect for one another.  In some sense, they are on the same page.  For different reasons, both are having fun exploring life, not viewing anything too seriously, and taking their time finding their way.  They stand to learn a lot from one another -- the older woman contributes her experience and the younger man his ebullience.  All things considered, it is not all that difficult to see that Ms. Hathaway was on to something back in 1582.  And with that, I hereby officially adopt an all-ages policy (within the parameters of what the applicable governmental bodies consider legal).  After all, age is just a number, and numbers have never really been my thing anyway.

My mother visited this weekend, which is fitting seeing as she happens to be a woman who married a (slightly) younger man.  I was busy showing her what it is like to be almost 30 in the city that never sleeps, which means there were a lot of repeat venues this weekend.  However, we did discover one new place, which will definitely never get old...

Cafe Orlin
St. Mark's Place btw 1st and 2nd Ave (closer to 2nd)

Hands down new favorite brunch in the East Village.  At this point, I have tried a number of "the best" brunch locations in my eclectic little neighborhood, therefore I tend to think I know what I am talking about.  So, believe me when I say that if you haven't had the Diana's Breakfast at Cafe Orlin, then you are seriously missing out.  I haven't ever combined hummus and eggs-over-easy before, but now am wondering how it took me so long to find this delightful combination.  Even the pita was better than average.  Mom was still raving about her meal hours later.  Plus, the espresso was exceptional.  The service was mediocre at best, however.  And, this is the only place I have been to in the East Village where screaming children were an issue.  But, I would venture to say that even that was worth it for the tabbouleh.

Guest Post: JK on Why We're Single

As I mentioned in my last post, JK had some choice things to say about the Hot Career Woman phenomenon.  So much so that she decided to memorialize it for all posterity.  And, voila, The Manhattanite's inaugural guest post!

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After reading Mr. Workfriend's thoughts on why so many strong, career-driven women remain single while those with less self-sufficiency find it easy to pair off, I called Birdie immediately. "His explanation doesn't make sense," I huffed. "Well," she responded, "write a rebuttal for my site and I'll post it" (Birdie is an excellent delegator).

Mr. Workfriend's explanation rings false to me. Most of the career-oriented, intelligent, strong women I know don't drive the relationship or push to have "the talk;" we're willing to take a step back and give their partner some space. We're comfortable seeing how things develop and not pushing for answers or the next step. We're not focused on figuring out where the relationship will be in 5 months or 5 years because we're worried about where our jobs will be and how we'll advance in work. And that, I think, is the real reason most of us are single more often and for longer periods of time then our peers. Because despite what men claim they want, they choose women who are slightly to completely dependent on them. The woman who will put up with being stood up, ignored, or patronized is more likely to keep a boy (note: not man) than the woman who draws a line or moves on with her life when he starts to play games.

This is nothing against men, because women do the same thing. We all lie to ourselves about what we want sometimes. I constantly hear (and have been guilty of saying) that it would be nice to be with someone who texts back right away or wants to be together more often. But for every boy who takes too long to respond or isn't clear with his feelings, there's one who wrote too quickly or seemed too admiring. Feeling too needed is just as off-putting as feeling unwanted. It's a thin line. But one day, hopefully, we find someone walking on the same one.

The tricky thing about strong women, the ones with their lives completely together, is that we aren't any more together than anyone else (okay, maybe a little). Everyone has vices and weaknesses, we've just learned to hide them better. And we've learned that pushing someone to tell you what you want to hear won't make it true. So we don't ask unless we really need to know and are prepared to hear something we don't like. And we don't build our lives on promises of future dates because we know that he may decide next week that this is all too much for him or not enough or just ... not right. So we take it one day at a time. And we vent to our friends and rely on them for future plans and hand-holding when even our short-term hopes fall apart.

And more power to us. Although our date night outfits may grow dusty and unfashionable while we pull on another miniskirt or low-cut shirt and head off to the bars, the time we spend single (but not alone) will be better spent building the friendships that will carry us through the next make-out buddy who never calls or the bar flirt who never asks for your number. And our friends will carry us through the lows that are even lower - problems at work, health issues, and family crises. Because for all the time I spend thinking and worrying about men, the pain I feel when I lose a boy is nothing compared to the pain I feel when I realize I've lost touch with a friend, or when one of my best friends returns home after a too-short visit. Even when I feel depressed contemplating the potential that I will never again wake up to deep-pitched snoring or realizing that, in the past month, my friends have gotten more action in my bed than I have, I'm reminded that I can count on those women to help me when I need to clean up the messes in my life or to go on an impromptu movie date to distract me. Being a strong woman may deter many gorgeous, funny, charming men, but it will never scare away the true loves of my life.

Thanks for letting me guest post, Birdie. If I were a man, I'd try to get you accidentally pregnant.

The Hot Career Woman (Revisited)

I am always surprised when people actually respond to my blog.  For some reason, I have this sense that, each time I publish a post, I am effectually throwing it out into cyberspace, where it is monumentally unlikely ever to be found again.  So, thank you, to those of you who not only read, but think about and reply to my ramblings.

That being said, I received one particularly staunch objection to the opinion voiced in my previous post "Illuminating Blind Spots" regarding the general rejection of the Hot Career Woman by the male population at large.  In that post, I had recalled Mr. Workfriend's explanation of why men ultimately choose gentler, more nurturing, less ambitious or accomplished women than Miss Hot Career Woman, despite insisting that they all want someone strong, independent, and intelligent.  It went something like this:

"You know, he says, I think men like the idea of a business woman, but in practice they plan too much, push things along, and have the impulse to direct the relationship -- 'Where is this going?' 'What does that mean?' -- and do a constant cost-benefit analysis.  Simpler girls tend to just let things be and are more easy-going."

Within a few hours of posting that entry, JK was on the phone to me from Cleveland -- "Mr. Workfriend is WRONG!"  I know plenty of the "less ambitious" women, she says, and they are the worst about nagging men regarding the status of the relationship and the meaning of every little thing they do.  Career women, she explains, don't have the time to indulge in the luxury of that sort of obsession.

Always open to different points of view, I bite -- "Ok, JK, what's your theory, then?"

Here is what she said:  Whether they like it or not, men need to be needed.  Logically, the Hot Career Woman makes sense.  Number one, she's hot.  Number two, she is self-reliant and doesn't need to leech money off of a man.  And, number three, she is too busy to take up all of a man's time.  Sounds great to most men.  But, in practice, men's evolutionary needs don't necessarily align with modern logic.  Historically the providers and protectors in a society, men have an innate need to be needed by their mate.  To varying degrees depending on the man, they want to be in a position to provide for and protect a woman in way she cannot for herself.  The Hot Career Woman, strong, independent, and self-reliant as she is, often defies provision and protection.  In fact, JK and I both come from failed relationships where we were the primary breadwinners.  Little Miss Hairdresser, Miss Second Grade Teacher, and Miss Perpetual Student, however, could use some providing and protecting.

When it comes down to it, JK says, men aren't happy in relationships where they don't feel like they are needed.  In other words, I say, you think all men are, to some degree, co-dependent (dependent on the dependency of another).  Not to over-generalize or anything.

I totally get where she is coming from and can see how it makes sense.  But, ever the instigator, I wonder what Mr. Workfriend has to say about this assault on his opinions...

"Well, that's a little self-serving, don't you think??"  Haha, yes, Mr. Workfriend, I suppose it is.  Not to mention, a negative reflection on your gender in general.  Mr. Workfriend went on to clarify that, most men find independence (read: doing your own thing a lot of the time) appealing if not downright sexy.  And, rather than "directive" he saw the Hot Career Woman as overly intense when it came to relationships.  Whatever she did, she did it with focus and determination.  Both are attributes that, clearly, serve her well in the working world.  But, apparently, both also send ordinary men running for the hills.  I have a feeling that Mr. Workfriend has run into a few Hot Career Women who, outside of work, focus a little too intently on their mates, which ends up coming off as neediness.  In the end, 24/7 intensity can be exhausting for both parties, so I can see Mr. Workfriend's point as well.  I am sure JK will have a response.

But, while this discussion could probably volley back and forth between the two for a while, I am going to cut it short with the simple suggestion that both are simultaneously wrong and right.  Our judgments about groups of people collectively are usually based on our personal experience with only a relatively small sample of each population.  Therefore, while our assessments may be right based on the evidence we each possess, they may be wrong as generalizations.  Not that any generalization could be right.

As much as I would love to be able to blame not getting what I want on some condition or compulsion of the male population relative to Hot Career Women, it is simply impossible (both to categorize Hot Career Women and believe that all men can be any one thing).  If there is one thing I have learned from being in New York City and observing its eclectic collection of people, it's that everyone has more than one side to them and each is more than what they seem.  We, as the population of Manhattan and as individuals, defy classification.  There are needy women with hot careers and needy women with no careers.  There are co-dependent men and independent men.  Some of us are easy-going and some of us aren't.  And, in some sense, we are all probably a little bit of all of those things.

I learn a lot from writing these blog entries, but I learn more from people's responses to them.  And, what JK and Mr. Workfriend have taught me this go-around is that there are no absolutes when it comes to people.  The best we can do is to take each person as they come and try our best not to prematurely place anyone in a box in which they do not belong.  Although, being human, we will probably never be able to let go of our tendency to generalize entirely.  It's part of how the standard brain operates.  I think that might be okay, though.  After all, one of the greatest joys in relating is the pleasant surprise of discovering a person who breaks the mold.

The Art of Moving On

"Few people know the difficult art of leaving at the right time."  (Friedrich Nietzsche)

As some of you know, Mr. Workfriend is leaving NYC and heading out to San Francisco at the end of October.  Although, our acquaintance has been relatively brief (since I only arrived in NYC this past Spring), Mr. Workfriend has proven to be a genuinely cool dude, and I will be sad to see him go.  In honor of his departure, I would like to bid adieu with a post about something that we all grapple with from time to time -- moving on.

It seems like my NYC family is always, in one way or another moving on -- R moving from single life into married, L giving up one crush in the search for another, J leaving her job here for one in D.C....  Whether moving on means physically moving out of a city or emotionally moving away from a person, "goodbye" can be a pretty hard word to say.  Yet, it is my personal philosophy that we are all perpetually changing, and therefore are also all constantly saying our small good-byes -- to the people we once were, to the ideals we once held, to our fragile conceptions about life's truths.  Even outside of New York, I have a number of friends and family working on their own attempts at moving on -- JI giving up the single life, JK's drawn out divorce, MS breaking-up once and for all, as well as my own transition to New York City.  We are all, at the same time, looking forward to our respective changes and looking back on what we are necessarily leaving.  Life is circular, and there is rarely a beginning without an end.

Over the last few years, I have personally done a lot of moving on.  Some of it has required of me very difficult and quick decision-making.  Some has required persistence and planning.  Some has been thrust upon me completely involuntarily.  Let me say up front that I am very satisfied with where I am at this point in my life.  Somehow, that infamous cocktail of upheaval and introspection has yielded what I consider a glorious outcome.  The sum total of all of my personal changes has been overwhelmingly positive.  But, moving on is just that -- a change, or series of changes, that lands you in a place to some extent removed from where you began.  Change can be overwhelming.  Some people are more open to it than others.  It took my father a decade to finally get a cell phone and five more years even learn how to send a text message.  In that same amount of time, my mother got a Blackberry, a Facebook page, and a Skype account.  But, when it comes to things more personal than technology, change can be traumatic, even when it is welcome. 

My friends and family generally know that I was not entirely devastated by my divorce two years ago.  For various and sundry reasons, it was definitely time to leave.  As far as most of them know, I never even cried.  But, the day my ex-husband physically moved his stuff out of the house we had shared, I came home just as his friend was closing up the moving van they had rented.  I found my ex inside, about to walk out the front door for the last time.  I knew this change was hard for him (he was not what I'd call a flexible personality), so I did not drag out our last farewell.  We hugged.  I wished him well.  He told me it was not too late to change my mind.  I smiled and said good-bye.  It was neither earth-shattering nor Oscar-worthy.  He closed the front door.  I stood there in the hallway for about thirty seconds.  In my empty house, everything was absolutely quiet and still.  It seemed like an eternity.  Then, all at once the magnitude of this change, of the abrupt about face of the direction of my life, hit me like a ton of bricks.  Despite that fact that this was what I wanted, that it was a good change, the finality of that good-bye finally made me cry.

I was not lamenting the loss of a wonderful relationship.  I had no qualms about taking my life in a new direction.  In fact, I was excited at the prospect of starting over.  But, standing there in that moment, I was suspended between the future and the past.  As uncomfortable a fit as my life had been up to that point, it was at the very least familiar.  For the first time in my life, I truly felt alone -- one door had closed and all that stretched before me was unknown.  At the time, I told my mother that I didn't really know why I was crying.  I was happy, excited, and hopeful -- so why the tears?  Now, I think I understand that I left more behind than a marriage -- I left behind who I was when I was married.  And, while I wouldn't want to be that person ever again, admitting fault with oneself and consequently changing (whether we are carving pieces out or adding on) can be excruciating.  The person who I was that allowed me to be in that marriage had been altered on the trip out of it. 

This is what makes change so difficult at times -- we have to admit that where we are or what we are doing simply isn't working for us any more.  Whether it's that the job is not what we envisioned, the relationship is unhealthy, we're not finding what we were looking for, or we're finding we're operationally deficient without modern technology, change necessitates that we must admit tiny (or gigantic, as the case may be) failures all along the way.  And often, the course to correction requires a leap of faith.  A venture into the unknown, which incorporates the possibility of future failures.  But, to refuse to change doesn't mean that we did not fail; it just means that we have given up on succeeding.

It is this sort of submission that breeds long-term regret.  I am of the opinion that, generally, we regret in the short-term the things that we do (that extra tequila shot, speaking out of turn, a one-night stand), but we regret in the long-term the things that we do not.  (I would personally rather cope with consequences than wonder what might have been.)  If we are not changing, we are stagnating.  So, while in letting go of what we know and jumping into the unknown we may very well fall flat on our faces, we stand to lose a lot more by holding on.  I think Vincent Van Gogh had it right when he said, "The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore."  Change brings with it an ocean of possibilities.  And, though it entails a certain amount of risk, it also carries with it innumerable potential rewards.  While it is natural to feel the pangs of sadness that accompany good-byes, let us still embrace that unknown and take comfort in the knowledge that the only wrong choice is the failure to choose at all.  Besides, if it doesn't work out, it is never too late for a change.

I spent this past weekend back in Cleveland, taking trips down memory lane.  And while I had a great time indulging in some unmitigated nostalgia and connecting with old friends, I did not regret for a moment my decision to move on to NYC.  By embracing the unknown, I embraced endless possibilities.  We know what will happen if we stay at home, but not what will happen if we venture out.  And, as if you need any more reason than that, here are some great places to venture to, whether you are in Cleveland or NYC:

Lucky's Cafe
777 Starkweather, Tremont (Cleveland, Ohio)
At any given time, 70 to 90% of the menu is locally grown.  This place is small but mighty.  I would venture to guess that it is impossible to order poorly.  I had the curry tofu scramble (otherwise known as the Canoewreck), which was seasoned perfectly.  The waiter convinced us to try the maple and pecan crusted bacon, which was twice rendered and three times fabulous.  Even the bread was addictive.  sort of randomly located along a quiet semi-residential street in the Tremont neighborhood of Cleveland, this is one of the two best brunch places in Cleveland.  No contest.


Tea House Noodles
2218 Murray Hill, Little Italy (Cleveland, Ohio)

What a cute little noodle place!  Assemble your own noodle, veggie or rice bowl Chipotle style.  There were four of us girls, and we all got something different -- teriyaki, thai peanut, curry, spicy-rican -- and delicious.  Even tinier than Lucky's, this place was perfectly situated in Case Western Reserve territory and a nice change from the Italian extravaganza down the street.  Cute, cute, cute!

The Treehouse
820 College Ave., Tremont (Cleveland, Ohio)

This could be any one of the warm and cozy bars snuggled into the quaint streets of Tremont, except that it has a giant tree growing right out of the middle.  Any bar that has Magic Hat #9 on tap is alright with me.  Being in Tremont, it also had the right median patron age and sizable crowd.  If you get tired it this place, just try the Flying Monkey down the street (with a two sided bar, which is deceptively big) or Bier Markt in Ohio City (if you want to increase your chances of being hit on).  You really can't go wrong on the near-West side of Cleveland.  (Unless you find yourself in the flats, and then, I hope you carry a crowbar in your purse for protection.)

Henry's End

44 Henry Street (btw Cranberry and Middagh), Brooklyn Heights

Absolutely adorable place tucked away near the Brooklyn Bridge.  The woman and man presiding over the waitstaff duties were quirky and hilarious.  And genuinely nice.  It's got an interesting menu that includes the standard chicken, fish, and pasta, but ventures into the less familiar realms of game like buffalo and kangaroo.  Plus the wine selection is more than acceptable.  Do yourself a favor and walk over the Brooklyn Bridge at night, stop in here, and wander back.  It's nothing short of magical.

El Rio Grande

Corner of Lexington and 3rd Ave.

Finally, in honor of my departing Mr. Workfriend, we tried this place for his farewell lunch.  Obviously, it's Mexican,s o they brought out the usual chips and salsa to start.  Interestingly, they also brought out a plate full of little tid-bits to add in, like onions, cilantro, and a whole jalapeno pepper (which Mr. Workfriend proceeded to eat wholesale without flinching -- impressive).  It was decent food for sure.  Maybe not the best Mexican I've had in New York City, but the competition is steep.  It was, however, quiet, bright, and pleasant -- an acceptable place for a business lunch or a bite to eat if you're in the Murray Hill neighborhood.

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Illuminating Blind Spots

So, good news and bad news. 

Good:  I finally have a cool friend at the office! 

Bad:  He's moving to San Francisco in a month.  Bummer. 

I am, however, determined to make the best of the situation.  Order of business #1: boys.  Isn't it always?  As my girlfriends will tell you, that's one of the first signs that you could actually be friends with a person -- the ability to talk with them frankly about boys.  And dating.  This is probably because it is both an interesting (and hilarious) topic, but also somewhat personal.  (Also, let's just get out of the way: he has a girlfriend, so no, ladies, he is not available -- which is a shame because he's totally dateable.)  So, we're having this (ongoing) dialogue about men and women, and he asks me what is my "type"?  Hmmm...welllll, good question. 

I rattle off some characteristics I like in a guy -- intelligent, adventurous, grounded, positive, witty, humble -- and he responds, "Well, that's vague." 
"Ha! Ok, well, then what's your type?" 
"I definitely have a type," he says.  "Straight blond hair, clear skin, on the shorter side, and...how do I put this?...curvy." 
"Like, well-endowed?" 
"Ummm, more like just curvy.  In general.  I don't like the really skinny girls." 
"Huh.  Ok." 
"You'd get it if you saw my girlfriend." 
(To myself)  "Oh, I get it, friend -- every time I look in the mirror.  Thanks for describing myself to me.  Why why why do you have to be totally hot?" 
Aside from the approximately four seconds it took me to get over the dismay, I was actually thankful to hear that a decent-looking, smart, funny guy could think someone *like* me could be his preference.  In a city full of pretty, lithe, 22-year-old models, there is hope, after all.  Hallelujah and aaaa-men. 

But, then I remember the conversation we had last week about strong, independent, intelligent women (also, me).  Mr. Workfriend had remarked that I should have no trouble finding guys to date in NYC because I was the ideal girl for the type of guy who hangs around the city -- smart, pretty, self-reliant, confident, funny, etc.  I looked at him with a mixture of shock and skepticism.  As much as I would loooooove to believe this, all evidence has been to the contrary in my experience.  I can think of at least three exes (off the top of my head) that said they wanted Miss Hot Career Woman but who eventually ended up with Miss Second Grade Teacher or Miss Perpetual Student or Miss Hairdresser.  To prove my point, I asked Mr. Workfriend: "What does your girlfriend do?"  "Ahhh...actually I am not sure she really 'works'."  Aha.  There you have it.  We are lawyers; evidence is everything.  Plus, its a pretty ubiquitous phenomenon..every Hot Career Woman has a similar sob story.  I pointed out my observations to my friend and asked for an explanation.

He gracefully conceded the point and gave it a think.  You know, he says, I think men like the idea of a business woman, but in practice they plan too much, push things along, and have the impulse to direct the relationship -- "Where is this going?" "What does that mean?" -- and do a constant cost-benefit analysis.  Simpler girls tend to just let things be and are more easy-going.  Hm.  While I definitely don't think that this theory is flawless, I do see where he has a point:  Women in more high-powered careers usually got there by operating on a certain level of intensity and probably are predominately Type A personalities.  It makes sense they would be more directive and purposeful in a relationship (and in life in general).  The corporate ladder isn't all they seek to climb.  And, women who have not achieved as much career-wise are more likely to be laid-back or less driven in general.  This is not meant to be a judgment -- just a fact. 

I, for one, don't like the idea of being placed into any box, even if I am in the company of Hot Career Women.  And, I certainly don't see myself as bossy or overbearing.  But, I began to worry that others might see me that way, or at the very least assume I would be that way (which would present quite the uphill battle).  But then again, maybe I am deluding myself into thinking that I qualify as a Hot Career Woman.  Just because I have a career doesn't necessarily mean I can claim that status.  Ultimately, I really have no idea how others perceive me.  And I begin to wonder if I even know how I perceive myself?!  Aauugh...this is getting too complicated.  So, I did what I always do to stave off existential crises -- surf the internet. 

Oh, the interwebs...so full of wonderfully inane and misleading fluff.  But, I did revisit an article I read a couple months ago about the difference between how we perceive ourselves and how others perceive us.  Perception is all about filters, and the way we perceive ourselves is affected by the filters through which we view our thoughts and actions.  The same is true for our perceptions of others -- the way in which we see them is a function of the assumptions or knowledge we have about them.  According to this article, there are four categories of perceptions that occur:

1.  "Bright Spots" -- Things that both you and other people know about you, like if you are outgoing or gesticulate excessively.

2.  "Dark Spots" -- Things that you don't know about yourself, but neither does anyone else.  This pertains mostly to deep-seated latent psychological issues.

3.  "Personal Spots" -- Things that you know about yourself that no one else knows, usually underlying emotions or opinions that others don't have the benefit of accessing, like how much you hate your boss or your political affiliations.  Outsiders know how you behave, but not what motivates that behavior or whether it is reflective of what you actually think.  This is the first major source of division between your self-concept and others perception of you.

4.  "Blind Spots" -- Things that others know about you, but that you don't see, usually because of your need to see yourself in a positive light (I guess that would be a rose-colored filter).  These items are usually a matter of point of view -- like your attractiveness or intelligence.  They can also be perceptions based on body language (which other can see, but which is out of your range of vision).  It's like the opposite of the personal spot -- outsiders can perceive you objectively based on your behavior, but you have trouble seeing yourself through others' eyes.  This is the second major source of division.

The article goes on to detail why people frequently misjudge their blind spots -- especially intelligence and attractiveness.  Intelligence, because we have a vested interest in seeing ourselves as capable and smart, when in reality our IQs are lower than we would guess.  Attractiveness, because we have an interest in seeing ourselves as beautiful, but can't look through others' eyes.  Not only do we fail to take into account factors that are known to observers, but we incorporate factors in our perceptions of ourselves that observers could never know.  This is the reason that our self-conceptions could be so different from how others perceive us.  Usually, the only reason we would have an accurate idea of our relative attractiveness or intelligence is through direct or indirect feedback from others.  But, when it comes to dateability, how are we supposed to get an honest assessment from friends and/or exes? 

Actually, I have no idea.  I mean, I could conduct a survey, but I wonder what percentage of people would feel comfortable answering honestly (or at all).  (And I wonder how much I really want to know the truth.)

It is possible to have spontaneous revelations about oneself, I suppose.  For instance, during a recent conversation with JK, she was recounting the antics of the latest jerk to waste her time, saying "Of course he is [acting this way] -- I only like douchebags." 
"What?" 
"Seriously, look at my ex-husband, look at the last guy I dated, look at the guys that I like at the bars....douchebags!" 

Of course, we all like to pretend that we like guys because they are "worthy" and that we have impeccable taste when it comes to men, but any one of JK's friends could have made the same observation well before she did.  It is difficult to overcome the filter of how we want to see ourselves, but eventually, JK was able to see her dating preferences for what they are.  Admirable, but tough...it took me about three days to objectively sort through my own dating patterns and recognize that I predominately date narcissists.  (Like, honest-to-God-obsessed-with-themselves narcissists.)  My mother could have told you that six months ago.

The point is:  We can't control how people perceive us, nor do we always accurately perceive ourselves.  All we can do is live with purpose.  Know who we want to be, and do and say the things that that person would do and say.  Some traits are innate, but most are purely habit.  I have read multiple times that, if you want to be a happier person, you should practice smiling and laughing -- and, eventually, it will become automatic.  If you want people to understand you, then express yourself to others.  If you want to understand yourself, then allow them to express you to you.  Somewhere in there, you'll piece it all together.  Chances are that there is someone out there looking for a person exactly like you.  But, you have to discover you before they can.

And while you're at it, here are some more places to discover:

CK14 (The Crooked Knife)
W. 14th St. btw 7th Ave. and 6th Ave. (Ave. of the Americas)

Apparently, there is a Crooked Knife in midtown, but this is not it.  Obviously.  They are, however, associated.  I met a large group of friends and acquaintances here for a get together.  I liked the set up -- sort of a free-floating bar in the center and aisles/seating around the edges.  There was a roomier space in the back as well.  The atmosphere was cozy, exposed brick, warm woodwork -- typical nice NYC bar.  I have no idea how expensive the drinks were because I was pretty tipsy when I paid my tab.  Which I guess is a good sign. I'd definitely come here again -- good meet up space.

Il Bastardo
191 7th Ave btw W. 22st and W. 22nd St.

J and I are taking Italian classes ("E tu? Come ti chiami?"), and finally the word gnocchi was said enough times that we just has to have some.  So, we walked down the street to this block of 7th Avenue, which I think must have the densest concentration of Italian restaurants in a city block outside of Little Italy.  J says this place used to be a hot spot.  I can see why -- the food was realllly good.  I had gnocchi that was fluffier than most.  And, the baked eggplant app we ordered was something special.  However, I can also see why this place has seen its heyday come and go.  The service was terrrrrrrrrrrible.  Really very very bad.  The waiter took forever to come over, they didn't give us the regular menus until demanded (it was 4 p.m. on a Saturday -- what they were thinking giving us brunch menus, I'll never know), J had to hunt them down for some bread for the table, and the waiter was either shy or mute.  The only thing they did quickly was take our money.

Angon on the Sixth
320 East 6th Street btw 1st and 2nd Ave
I eat a lot of Indian food. I love Panna II (previously reviewed, see "Heart Smarts"). That being said, for a complete change of pace, this place was pretty good. I had the chicken tikka masala (it's my baseline for comparison between all Indian establishments), and I actually liked it better here than at Panna II. They did a great job with the spices. And the rice pudding stopped conversation. My date didn't really care for the Special Chicken, but that's what you get for going off tradition, I suppose. The wait staff was exceedingly helpful and friendly, as well. Contrast Panna II's loud Indian music to Angon's relative silence, Panna II's glaringly bright light show to Angon's soft candle-lit effect, Panna II's cramped and crowded dining room to Angon's large and open space. It's still Indian, but it's the difference between TGI Fridays and Per Se.

Dorrian's
Corner of 2nd Ave. and E. 84th St.

This is a Redskins bar.  There is no other way to describe it.  I have no idea what they do when the Redskins aren't playing.  But, when they are, watch out!  If you didn't have a Redskins jersey on, you were in the very small minority.  I wasn't able to stay for the entire game thanks to work, but I am told that the bar was extremely energetic and rowdy -- i.e. a great place to watch a game.  I had a hamburger before I had to go, and I actually really liked it.  It was just what you'd want during a football game -- thick, juicy, and tasted like it came off the backyard barbecue.  It was served on an English muffin, which I kind of liked even though it hardly fit.  This thing was huuuge (that's what she said)...I could only get through about half of it.  And the pickles were really fresh.  Yumm.

Are Platonic Pals Possible?

Between men and women there is no friendship possible. There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship. (Oscar Wilde)

Question: Can men and women ever really be just friends? We have half a million years of history, most of which was spent clubbing a mate over the head and dragging her home to the cave.  Only a few centuries ago, men still thought of women as, at best conquests, and at worst, property.  Can we really have come all that far in the last few hundred years?  Pop culture has attempted to answer this question for decades now. One of the most famous scenes in cinematic history gets at this very topic...

Harry: You realize of course that we could never be friends.
Sally: Why not?
Harry: What I'm saying is — and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form — is that men and women can't be friends because the sex part always gets in the way.
Sally: That's not true. I have a number of men friends and there is no sex involved.

Harry: No you don't.

Sally: Yes I do.

Harry: No you don't.

Sally: Yes I do.

Harry: You only think you do.

Sally: You say I'm having sex with these men without my knowledge?

Harry: No, what I'm saying is they all want to have sex with you.
Sally: They do not.
Harry: Do too.
Sally: They do not.
Harry: Do too.
Sally: How do you know?
Harry: Because no man can be friends with a woman that he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.
Sally: So you're saying that a man can be friends with a woman he finds unattractive?
Harry: No, you pretty much want to nail 'em too.
Sally: What if they don't want to have sex with you?
Harry: Doesn't matter because the sex thing is already out there so the friendship is ultimately doomed and that is the end of the story.
Sally: Well, I guess we're not going to be friends then.
Harry: Guess not.
Sally: That's too bad. You were the only person that I knew in New York.
(When Harry Met Sally, 1989)

We all know how that one ends. But, 1989 was a long time ago. And, it's pretty well accepted that traditional gender roles have diminished substantially in the last 20 to 50 years. Right? I mean, more women are going to college than men, the co-habitation rate is higher than it's ever been, and gay marriage is making strides everyday. Our concept of men and women as distinct and separate groups has evolved, so why not our attitude towards male-female friendships? (Especially here in New York City, where we're all supposed to be liberal and unconfined by the chains of tradition.)

I am not talking about casual acquaintances...everyone has those in-between friends that they see around, chat animatedly with, and may or may not take to bed at some point in the future. They come associated with groups or geographies, and if a few months went by without encountering them, one might barely notice. I am talking about friend friends. The kind you might have on speed dial, with whom you "check in" periodically, and in whom you have made some sort of emotional investment. Real friends....Possible?

I generally take the stance that life is sublimely messy and that, as a result, anything is possible. (Which is a wonderful thing.) But, from a concrete, practical standpoint, the question does give me some pause. I suppose I am bound to answer "yes" seeing as I, myself, have a handful of what I consider real boy friends (note the separation). But, I can't honestly say that sex doesn't come into (and go out of) the equation some of the time. In fact, a couple of my relationships with my man friends began with sex (or romance of some sort) and evolved into platonic relationships. Some have had seasons of sexual attraction. And some have remained chaste for as long as I can remember knowing the guy. Whatever their impetus or hurtles, all of my man-friendships are as dear to me as my girl-friendships. But, they are also necessarily different in their own way.

Men get from women what they don't get from other men -- bonding through talking and sharing thoughts and emotions. And women get from men what they don't get from other women -- lighter, less emotionally fraught company and the benefit of the male perspective. Really, cross-gender relationships stand to enrich the lives of both parties and provide a mutually beneficial alliance. I view most of my guy friends, to some degree, like brothers. I care about their well-being, share details of my life with them, ask for advice, and genuinely want to see them happy. One of them even drove for hours through the night to attend my college graduation in place of my real brother. But, as delightful as cross-gender relationships can be, they are minefields of complication. Often, one must tread more carefully in such a friendship than with same-sex friends.

This month has been a month of man friends for me -- more than a few incidences and nights out with my guy friends have got me to thinking about the intricacies of cross-gender friendships. And, while, per usual, I have absolutely no answers, I do have some observations about men and women and platonic ties:

1. Maturity. Maturity is a big factor in our ability to maintain platonic opposite-sex relationships. It makes sense that age would factor in. When we're young, we lack exposure to the opposite sex on a regular basis. Middle school and high school are when girls learn how to use their sexuality to get what they want and almost make a game of it -- like Buck Hunter, but with boys. It's also a time when guys hang out primarily with sports teams almost 24-7 and form a united front against the girl-vasion. For all intents and purposes, we are just as segregated in today's conventional educational setting as we were in the 1950s. But, as we get older and enter the working world, we are forced to interact on a daily basis with members of the opposite sex completely platonically (if we are to avoid litigation) and on a more even playing field. In doing so, we put aside the sex part, and are exposed to each other on an intellectual and personal level that might have otherwise been obscured by sexual tension. Practice makes perfect, and as a generation, we have more opportunity than most before us to perfect the art of the platonic relationship.

I know for a fact that, as I have gotten older, my potential for being a real platonic friend to a guy has increased. When I was thirteen, I was so boy crazy, that any connection -- any at all -- got me excited at the romantic prospects (which, at that point, ranged from talking on the telephone to holding hands in the hallway). But, having taken a few turns around the block at this point, I have honed my ability to interpret my emotional responses to people. Age, and our attendant experience, allow us to make finer distinctions. As a result, I am able to detect a man I am attracted to as a friend but who possess qualities that I'd rather not have in a boyfriend. For instance, I have a guy friend who is smart, funny, ambitious, handsome, and cultured, but who flagrantly provokes people with different view points than his and who, at times, has exhibited objectively questionable moral character when it comes to women. Not dateable. ( As friends, we are much more tolerant of these kinds of flaws.)  But, he's one of the most loyal, protective, honest, and interesting people I know.  My younger self might have confused my admiration of his better traits for romantic affection, but my older self picks the difference out pretty easily. 

2. Sexuality. Let's not pretend that this isn't an issue. It is. At some point in every platonic relationship, one or the other of you has thought about it. Maybe you acted on it; maybe you didn't. Maybe you're still trying to decide. Sexual attraction to otherwise platonic friends is normal (for reasons I'll describe below -- see "Substitutes"). Usually, it is temporary and not all that intense. But, sex does have a way of wrecking man-woman friendships. It's my opinion that, if it does, it probably wasn't all that platonic a relationship in the first place. In fact, I suspect that one of the reasons we are so convinced that truly platonic man-woman relationships can't exist is because we are terrible at picking them out. The fact that they can exist doesn't necessarily mean that yours is one. After all, we humans are extremely talented in the selective perception department (but that's another discussion altogether). (See "Perceptions")  If we were better at actually identifying which of our opposite-sex friendships is truly platonic, we'd probably get a better rate of return on them. And, we would avoid all of that awkward do-we-transition-this-or-not stuff. I dated a guy briefly in college who was "best friends" with his roommate's ex-girlfriend. For various reasons, he insisted that they were "just friends." But, to just about everyone outside of that relationship, they were obviously in love. It was so sweet, that even I, the current girlfriend, wanted them to get together. Mercifully, we broke up. At first, he recoiled when I suggested he ask her out. Now, they are blissfully married with two kids. Imagine if they had let the desire not to "kill" the friendship keep them from dating. The point is -- be careful before you label a friendship platonic. You're not doing anyone any favors by fooling yourself. Another wrinkle in the fabric of friendship is that they, like all things, evolve. Just as it is possible for a friendship to start off on a romantic foot and (de)evolve into a platonic relationship, it is possible for a platonic relationship to evolve into a romantic one. As people we are all constantly changing, which means our relationships are in constant flux as well. Best be vigilant, son.

3. Boundaries. Boundaries are key. Once we admit that sex creeps into all platonic relationships occasionally, we can then decide what we'll do about it when it does. More likely than not, we prefer the friendship over the fleeting sexual attraction we might feel for a friend (most likely under the influence of alcohol). Usually, if the friend were going to be more than a friend, we would have already figured that out. Slipping up, however, can put the friendship in jeopardy. And, more importantly, if you've got an actual romantic relationship in the works, it can throw a wrench in that as well. I remember a time a while back when my ex-boyfriend (with whom I had been just friends for a number of years at that point) called me up and told me that we couldn't talk anymore (he limited our interaction to the occasional Facebook message). Our relationship made his fiancee uncomfortable. To be honest, it probably should have. There are some friendships where purely platonic feelings are just not possible given a particular history. I was pretty pissed.

But, I also respected him for assessing the reality of the situation and setting his boundaries firmly. It's like your romantic relationship is a garden -- it needs nurturing to grow into something fruitful. And, platonic friends are like the bunnies that eat the tender buds of the garden. You might like the bunnies (they are cute after all), but if the bunnies were to get into the garden and nibble the heads off all the flowers, you'd be eating rabbit for dinner that night (if you get my drift). Problem:  How to keep the bunnies around and maintain the garden? Solution: Don't let the bunnies put themselves in that situation. Help the bunnies help themselves, and build a nice little fence around that garden. Keep the bunnies out of the romance and the romance out of the bunnies.

4. Substitutes. Love comes and goes; friends are forever. Truth. But, what about when love keeps going and going and going? It is a fact of life that, at some point, we will each feel lonely, unloved, unattractive, or unimportant. Sometimes, we just need a cuddle or a compliment or attention. Sometimes, the nearest boy will do. It is easy, especially for girls, to employ boy friends as substitute lovers. We'll flirt. Or we'll demand attention. Or we'll impose expectations similar to those we'd impose on a boyfriend. I was dating a guy once who had a girl friend that, when she wasn't dating anyone, would call his cell regularly. When he didn't answer, she'd call his work. When he didn't answer again, she'd call his land line. Finally, she'd send a text asking why he was ignoring her?!? When he finally called back, figuring she must be near death considering the number of times she'd called him, she'd pause on the other line, and in her cutest little-me voice say, "Oh, well, I just wanted to say 'hi'." Once you start projecting boyfriend expectations on your boy friends, you know you've crossed the line. The point is that boy friends are NOT substitute boyfriends. But, it is easy to try to get what we need or want or long for romantically from them -- because they are there, and they care about us. And, without anyone to focus our romantic or sexual energy on, they all of the sudden start looking more attractive. Beer goggles are nothing compared to lonely girl goggles. But, substitution is a dangerous business. It's basically just using.  And confusing for the friend.  By employing platonic friends as substitutes, we stand to wreck not only our friendships but the other friend's romantic attachments, if any, as well.

5. Perceptions. I think this is the most overlooked part of male-female friendship. We all live inside of our own heads, and often, we miss the reality of a situation as a result. Not that we would always be able to tell what the truth is (without telepathy, anyway), because the other half of any friendship can hide inside his or her own head as well. If this weren't the case, there would be no such thing as getting trapped in the "friend zone" -- our intentions would be obvious, so decisions could be made up front. I once attempted to have a friendship with a guy to whom I made my intentions very clear from the very beginning -- I was interested only in being friends (he had a great personality, but was just not my type in other respects). He agreed that he would like to do the same. Now, I really did want to get to know this person and thought that we could develop a solid friendship. But, little by little I noticed tiny red flags going up -- just one text too many, just a little too eager, dwelling just a little too long at my stoop, making just a little too much eye contact. It added up. Thankfully, I had had doubts from the get go about this guy's intentions to remain platonic and, so, was being vigilant in my observations. After hashing them through with my girlfriends, we all came to the very same conclusion -- it was a friend ambush (a "frambush").

Guys and girls alike engage in the frambush...they creep along in the friend zone until the time is right, and then they spring their undying love on you, hoping that it will all turn out like a John Cusack movie. Alas, it never does, everyone ends up being uncomfortable, and you realize you just wasted valuable energy on someone who had ulterior motives all along. It seems so devious when put in this context, but it really isn't. From my perspective, we were growing a friendship. From his perspective, we were growing a relationship. The unrequited lover is usually just swept up in emotion and the blind focus that comes with infatuation. He believes that you will come to love him if he is patient. The kindest approach is to be aware of the signs and wean him from you gently when they appear. But, be alert. Don't allow your own platonic perception to cloud your ability to detect his romantic one.

It's a tricky business, this guy-girl friendship thing. But, then, what aspect of life and relating isn't riddled with complication? As with all things, cross-gender friendships are about navigation. Read the seas and stay your course. After all, there was a time when everyone thought the world was flat. (And, who's the idiot now??) The truth is that there is a whole world of possibilities out there when it comes to friendship dynamics. Anything that can exist will exist. And, as with anything involving men and women, it's probably best to just be honest with ourselves about our perceptions versus reality. Enjoy the people we are given, and allow them to become whatever they will become. If you are blessed with a kindred spirit, take him or her for what she is. After all, as I noted in my last post, who we are -- our being -- resides in the soul. And souls don't have a gender.

Whether it's boy friends or girl friends or girlfriends or boyfriends with whom you consort, here are a few spots that I have found this week that cater to a great time with all friends...

The Ginger Man
East 36th St. btw 5th Ave and Madison
Wow -- this place was paaaaacked. Thursday night, Midtown East, not a surprise. But, it was huge. And still standing room only. R and I snagged a little table in the back room, which was mostly couches and coffee tables. We both had just a liiiittle too much of the house Pumpkin Spice Ale -- which was really tasty and relatively cheap. That particular day we were on a mission to catch up and gossip. But, had we been there for the men, there would have been plenty to choose from. The beer selection was massive (see photo). And the vibe was good. If you work in midtown, definitely check this place out after work hours.

Ulysses
58 Stone St.

Stone Street is known for its after work scene, especially on a Thursday night. We got there kind of late, actually, but it was still going strong. There are plenty of bars to choose from on Stone Street, but Ulysses has these outdoor tables (which would have been nicer on a warmer night) and just a general atmosphere of Irish debauchery. The bar itself is cozy despite being enormous. (It stretches through from Pearl to Stone.) And there is something I just love about a bar full of people in business attire acting like college kids. (Which they are after three hours of happy hour consumption.) If you're a girl in a pencil skirt, you're pretty much guaranteed to be hit on -- which can be nice after a hard day in the corporate trenches. The bartender was pleasant. And the drinks were drinkable. So, yes, go here if you're in the area.


Sugar Cafe
Corner of Allen St. (1st Ave) and E. Houston

Spent a good part of our time here in a corner of the all-glass store front comforting R after an episode of mixed signals involving a gay boy friend. Oh, drama -- you belong in a cute diner at 2 am on a Saturday night. So SATC. :) Aside from that, the food was decent. I wasn't paying much attention, to be honest. And neither was the waiter. But, it was late. And people were testy. But, the venue was perfect, and located right by the LES, which is optimal for hitting up on the way home from the bars. Or in between bars, as the case may have been for us that night. I'd be interested in visiting in the light of day...

Abraço
7th At. btw 1st and 2nd Ave.

Happiness, thy name is authentic Italian roast on a Sunday morning. Teeny, tiny, tasty. That about sums this place up. By far, the best coffee I've had in NYC, down to the heart shape in the foam of my latte. You know it's good when the Eurotrash gets up early to buy a fresh cup. There's no decaf, no skim milk, and no Splenda allowed in this club. Either you drink dark, strong coffee/espresso with whole milk and real sugar, or you get the heck out. Too small to really sit down, get your espresso to go and take it to the dog park like L and I did. You won't be disappointed.

Tu-Lu's
11th St. btw 1st and 2nd Ave.

This is L's favorite gluten-free bakery. And I can totally see why. Gluten-free doesn't mean fat free, of course. But, you still feel so much better about yourself after coming here than a normal bakery. From cupcakes, to coffee cakes, to honey oat bread, this place specializes in wheat-free delights. The chocolate peanut butter mini-cupcake I had rivaled Sweet Melissa's.  L swears by their red velvet.  And, the loaf of honey oat bread I brought home is already half gone. We got some delicious gluten-free sandwiches here and took them with our coffee to the park, which rounded out the perfect little Sunday. Plus, the bakery girls are so nice. Tu-Lu's was definitely part of the reason we were particularly glad this weekend that we live right here, in New York City.