Ben & Jerry's in a Pint

The New York Times recently ran a fantastic article on women and relationships a few weeks ago. In her article, Veronica Chambers offers some reassuring words for those of us who qualify as Extreme Daters:

"It's O.K. to fall deeply for one loser after another. It's O.K. to show up at a guy's house with a dozen roses and declare your undying affection. It's O.K. to have too much to drink and call your ex 20 times and then to be mortally embarrassed when you realize your number must have shown up on his caller ID. It's O.K. to stand at a phone booth in Times Square on New Year's Eve, drenched like a sewer cat in the pouring rain, crying your eyes out because the man you are infatuated with has decided that he needs some space. "

Ms. Chambers' article makes an example of her personal experience with dating disaster, starting with her first boyfriend as a girl:

One day, when my mother could not reach me after school for three hours straight, she came home early with the intention of beating some sense into me. When she found me sprawled underneath the dining table, the phone cord wrapped like a bracelet (or a handcuff) around my arm, she took pity. She led me into her bedroom and asked me how often I called Chuck.

"All the time."

"And how often does he call you?" she asked.

I shrugged.

"You can't chase boys," she said. "They don't like it."

This article hits close to home for anyone who made the tragic mistake of being straight up with a suitor (gasp!). Luckily, by the time we hit our early to mid-twenties, most of us have figured out that an unreturned phone call can only mean one thing:

He's just not that into you.

But the rest of the rules aren't so clear.

If we're all destined to kiss a dozen frogs before finding our prince, shouldn't our chances be just as good that any number of these placeholders could transform before our very eyes?

It's that lingering possibility that always seems to get in the way of "casual dating". Breakup without heartbreak is near impossible if you're one of those people who would really rather be planning weekend vacations with a soulmate than picking out an alluring yet mysterious and sophisticated outfit for that marginally awkward second date.

I'm one of those people. I absolutely hate dating.

Or maybe I just don't like The Rules.

Veronica Chambers doesn't like them either:

"In my 20's I had two long-term relationships that nevertheless ended, and I found myself back out in the wilds of the dating world. At this time the hot self-help dating book was ''The Rules.'' There were many rules that were supposed to help you lasso a man, but the one I remember said that you should never accept a date for Saturday after Thursday.
'
'The Rules'' reminded me of that conversation I had with my mother about the swoon-worthy Chuck Douglas. I understood that the rules were good for me, but so is tofu, and I just can't stand the stuff."

I don't have a particular problem with tofu. But it's hard to argue with the facts: tofu itself is pretty bland.

Life just seems too short to waste it with watered down relationships. But The Rules of successful courtship require a moderation on all fronts.

There is a prerequisite waiting period before calling back. There is a word and content limit on emails. How much time is too much time? Do I get to call him when I actually want to talk to him or do I have to wait the preapproved number of hours or days...

The Rules seem to work to our advantage in the early stages of a relationship, but what about six months in? Nine months? A year?

At what point do we get to stop being polite and simply ask for what we really what? Is it ever ok to break The Rules, or is that just asking for the dreaded, "Its's not you, it's me" conversation...

Because if love is about finally finding what we want, wouldn't it make sense to just ask for it?

Sometimes.

My best friend gave me some sobering but practical advice once:
If you want flowers, you need to ask for them.

Turns out, this is true most of the time. If you ask for flowers, you will probably get them.

If you have to ask for love, you probably will not get it.

The difference between flowers and love is: Men can buy flowers. Men can't manufacture love.

I had the awkward experience of having to give dating advice to my mother recently. Being new to the dating game again, she expressed an extreme reluctance to let go of a relationship that had really been over long before it had even started.

I told her: "Mom, that's why they make Ben & Jerry's in pints."

For some of us, myself included, The Rules remain confusing.

But ice cream makes all the sense in the world.