10 Worst Celebrity Baby Names of 2010 (and Some from 2009 too)

 

Yeah, yeah…I know I usually do these type of lists at the end of the year, but truth is kittens, mama missed doing the Top Ten Worst Celebrity Baby Names last year, and there are some real doozeys already for 2010.  So let’s get started, shall we?

10.  Mars Merkaba (child of Erykah Badu  and Jay Electronica)

Neo soul/R&B artist Erykah Badu has always been an original creation of her own making.  A little wackadoo, but worth the trouble nonetheless.  And I loved when she named her first son, Seven, because – as she said – “Seven as a number and a force cannot be divided.”  How fuckin’ cool is that?

But I take issue with naming your baby Mars, after the Red Planet.  Maybe the name stands for something else, but to this white Jewish matzoh cracker, it just looks random and stupid.  ‘Nuff said.

9. Kaydnz Koda (child of  T Pain)

Y’all know I do not really keep up with rap artists, and this includes T Pain. But I do know the African-American community likes names with a  (how do you say it…)  um…unique sound. 

Kedisha

Tameeka

Uniqua (that one’s from The Backyardigans, doncha know)

You get the idea.  So you tell me this…is the latest trend amongst the rap artist community to adopt names with more consonants than a Polish province?  This name’s just a hot mess, and it goes perfectly with his daddy’s mouth grill. Yeah, I said it.

8. Ikhyd Edgar Arular (child of M.I.A)

Okay, I stand corrected. Maybe it’s not just African-American rappers who are all consonant-crazy cuz M.I.A. hit her son up with a mouthful as well. She showed me there boy.

7. Sparrow James Midnight (child of Nicole Ritchie and Joel Madden)

Well thank GOD for Nicole Ritchie and Joel Madden because without them coming up with the pussy of a choice name – Sparrow – for their son, then I would’ve thought all the crazy was relegated to the rappers.

I adored the name they picked for their daughter (Harlow) – so much so, I wished I would’ve thought of it.  But naming your boy Sparrow is just asking for an ass whoopin’.  Although I guess it’s better than naming him(gulp) Swallow, but who am I kidding? Either choice makes him sound like a gay pirate.

6. Atlas Heche Tupper  (child of Anne Heche James Tupper)

Ok, speaking of wackadoo celebrities, few have anything over Anne Heche.  Jesus, she’s a whole carton of crazy town, so I should probably thank her for only naming her kid after a book of maps and not after one of her hallucinatory characters she ‘heard’ when she snapped and went off the grid after Ellen dumped her sorry ass way back when. So Atlas, consider yourself…um….lucky?

P.S.  I can’t WAIT ’til that kid grows up and writes the tell-all about growing up in that household.

5. Petal Blossom Rainbow Oliver – Jools and Jamie Oliver

I like Jamie Oliver. I really do.  I think what he’s trying to do for our kids, by making school lunches healthier, is admirable and desperately needed.

But the name of his latest creation reads like something you make up while tripping on Ecstasy at a bad 1990s rave revival. It just sucks weinis.

I’m sure Petal Blossom Rainbow will end up in some crunchy granola West London preschool co-op with other unfortunately labeled celeb spawns like Apple and Moses Martin, or some other self-important Brit.

4. Bandit Lee (child of Gerard Way, My Chemical Romance)

I’m sure Gerald Way and his pretty baby mama are too young to catch this cultural reference, but sorry…everytime I hear the name ‘Bandit’, I can’t help but think of that Baaaad 70s movie, ‘Smokey and the Bandit.’

Which makes me think of Burt Reynolds.

Which then makes me think of Burt Reynolds in ‘Boogie Nights’.

When always make me think of porn. Bad 70s porn.

Which mean when I hear of Bandit Lee Way, I think this child was born to act in porn. And I can’t imagine any parent wants people to relate their offspring to anything porno-related. 

Oh and the band, My Chemical Romance, is worse than 70s porn… and won’t last as long.

3. Dexter Lloyd (child of Charlotte Church)

When did Chalotte Church grow up, btw? Last I saw her, she was this precocious child star with this amazing operatic voice.  Now she’s popping out babies!

And in classic British fashion, she has given her child a name guaranteed to prevent him from getting laid for a long, long time.  Good job there Char…oh and don’t forget to forgo all basic dental care…another British classic worthy of repetition.

2. Bob (child of Charlie Sheen)

Let’s see if I can stop laughing long enough to write about this gem.

Jesus, what’s NOT wrong with Charlie Sheen? Well, the fact that he named one of his twins the most boring name, like, EVER, is a start.  OR maybe we should blame the baby mama for not only allowing Charlie to name a child he’ll never be around long enough to raise, but for believing the age old lie every woman has told herself at least once,  “He’ll be different with ME this time. I can change him.”

We never learn.

Anyway, for all my bitchin’ about the strange tongue twisting names many celebrities come up with, at least they’re not boring like Bob. There’s just no excuse for such right-brain laziness in Tinseltown.

1. Nakoa-Wolf Manakauapo Namakaeha Momoa (child of actress Lisa Bonet and actor Jason Momoa)

I swear, I didn’t make up this name just so I could end on a high note.  Just let me know who should call Child Protective Services first, you or me, because this name is just pure, unadulterated abuse.

I didn’t think it could get worse than the last time I wrote this list, but shut my mouth.  I’ve been proven wrong again.

Dog Gone It

So the big talk over here at Camp Mix & Bitch is if and/or when we’re going to adopt a shelter dog.  It’s either a dog or a third kid, believe it or not. 

One of the strange side effects of turning 40 has been this overwhelmingly strong urge to nurture something small.  It’s like my body realizes it just made a hard right turn down mid-life crisis highway and is desperate to propagate the species one…last…(cough)…time. 

Biology’s a bitch my fine furless  friends.

Good thing for me and Mr. Mix that I tied up the internal plumbing years ago, otherwise I may let that toxic drug known as estrogen overrule my common sense and get myself knocked up on purpose.  Mr. Mix is an infinitely patient and selfless man, but even I know I’d be pushing it too far with another one.

Between you and me (ahem), if I had my way, I’d be high tailing it over to China or Vietnam in a heartbeat and grab me one of those beyond adorable and precious little Asian babies.  Hey, if they’re stupid enough not to want their girls, I’ll take ’em.

C’mon, how cute is she?

Don’t you just want to bite those little cheeks?

Btw, I am not implying that a dog replaces a human child.  I’m just saying that I can handle an adult dog…a baby (even a beyond gorgeous Asian girl baby) is beyond my emotional and financial resources at this point in my life. And I’m pretty sure Mr. Mix would leave me if there was a third baby to contend with around here.

So as long as I don’t get a puppy, I think he’s cool with abating my aching womb syndrome.

Anyhoo, so I’ve been doing lots of research, on breeds, on shelters, on what to expect when you’re expecting something furry, etc. etc.  And while I’d like something of a scrappy variety like this little guy…

Drama Queen and Sweet Pea long for a dog more along the lines of this…

I know, I know…it’s not a dog, it’s a duster. But they want something small and cuddly that they can pick up and hold. I get it.

So I start finding dogs on Petfinder and submitting applications to different shelters. Holy Friggin’ Shitballs Batman! These applications were ridiculous.  I think I could’ve adopted me some Angelina orphans for less hassle than to get me a goddamn dog in this town.

Long story a bit shorter, I finally chucked the idea of the smaller rescue outfits in favor of the good ‘ol Humane Society of Fairfax County.  Within 24 hours, they called me after I filled out only a 2 page application (versus the 4-6 pages monsters with the other rescues, each asking for, like 5 references, my mother’s maiden name, how large is my husband’s left nut, and will I promise to wipe the dog’s ass after every poop for the rest of my life, so help me God?).  They told me they’ll line up the kinds of dogs we’re looking for, gave me the address, and made an appointment for next weekend.

Done. Capeesh. Finite.

So once we get the precious mutt, I promise to post some pictures. Wish me luck people!

Just Say No to Drugs?

So I just heard that Jen McCarthy and Jim Carrey have broken up after five years.  And while I am certainly bummed that these two couldn’t work it out, it’s the reason why they broke up which I find more upsetting than anything else. 

Supposedly, Carrey is having another serious bout of depression, disappearing for days at a time, or holing himself up at his home, and not taking any calls.  Additionally, he is refusing to take any meds, despite of having a lifelong history of depression.  He has taken Prozac for short durations, but refused to be on any anti-depressant long-term,  as stated in a Larry King interview in 2008:

KING: Didn’t you suffer from depression?
CARREY: Yes, yes. I’m on a manic high right now. Can’t you tell?
KING: How did you get through that to this?
CARREY: Well, that’s another thing. You know at the risk of like opening up the whole Tom Cruise Prozac argument, you know, I don’t disagree in many ways. I think Prozac and things like that are very valuable to people for short periods of time. But I believe if you’re on them for an extended period of time, you never get to the problem. You never get to see what the problem is, because everything is just kind of OK. And so, you don’t deal. And people deal when they get desperate.
KING: So how did you do it?
CARREY: I take supplements.
KING: Vitamins?
CARREY: Yes — well, it’s not — well, it is vitamins. But it’s also certain elements of the brain like Tyrosine and hydroxytryptophan that they’re treating depression with now. It is a natural substance that’s in your brain. Instead of being a Serotonin inhibitor, which just uses the serotonin you have and Prozac and things like that — it just uses the Serotonin you have and it doesn’t allow it go back into the receptor. It metabolizes your serotonin after a while and you have to keep taking more and more to feel good. This actually creates dopamine and creates serotonin. It’s a wonderful thing. It’s amazing. I’m going to talk a lot about it in the near future.
KING: You’re going to write about it?
CARREY: Yes.

I don’t know, is it me or am I the only one who’s really getting tired of actors pretending to have medical degrees?  There’s nothing wrong with becoming an educated patient, and I believe each of us must be our own best advocate, and not solely reliant on a hierarchically organized, paternalistic medical model.  That said….um DUDE…you suffer from depression, a scientifically studied, neurologically oriented mental health disorder.  And a couple of chewable Flintstones ain’t gonna cut it. 

I also know some are going to blame his former girl Jen for his anti-drug stance, because most people believe she’s anti-vaccine when in actuality, she does believe in vaccines – just on a more delayed schedule and without unnecessary additives.  That said, she’s another one who comes off as a medical expert on the talk show circuit, and the last time I checked, you don’t get an MD from having hosted MTV. I’m just saying…

Usually, I take things that celebrities say about as seriously as I take the babblings of a toddler, but in this case, I take issue with what’s going on here.  I don’t think he doesn’t take his meds because he wants to deal with the root cause of his problems, I think Jim Carrey doesn’t take his meds because he’s uncomfortable with the stigma attached to mental illness.  Because by taking his meds – and taking them for the long-term – that means he has to put himself into the category of people who are chronically mentally ill…and I guess while it’s ok to wear your girlfriend’s thong bathing suit in front of the paparazzi, it’s not ok to have to take ‘crazy pills’ for the rest of your life.

I guess I’m taking this personally because I used to be Jim Carrey.  I too have suffered from depression on and off throughout my life, and for thirty-plus years refused to take any meds (something I wrote about here).  I get how difficult it is to accept that depression is the shadow which will haunt the corners of your house for the rest of your life.  I understand how terrifying it is to think that others think you ‘crazy’ or ‘unstable’.  I also understand that when you’re in the midst of your disorder, your normative, cognitive rationale will fail you, and while you think you’re handling your disorder just fine – without therapy, without medication – everyone around you bites their lip while watching you flaying in the ocean of your own despair.

After thirty-odd years of being so staunchly against antidepressants, you know what finally turned me around to at least giving them a try?  It was a fifteen-year-old girl. 

I was at my cousin’s bar mitzvah, and his older sister – who is beautiful and charming, smart and funny – stood in front a synagogue audience of about 500 people and talked about not only how much she loved her little brother, but how she envied him his social ease and his laissez fare attitude.  She talked about her need to take anti-depressant and anti anxiety meds, and how she wished it all came as easily for her as it did for him.  Fifteen years old. 

And I sat there in awe of her as she joked about her struggles in front of family and strangers alike.  And if it was even possible, I loved her more…which made me realize how ridiculous I had been all these years, fearing that others would judge me.  Because I certainly didn’t judge her.  In the end, by releasing my own need for control, I regain a part of myself that would have otherwise alluded me…the part that feels joy and gratitude, even in the middle of the chaos…the part that is able to distinguish real problems from distractions….the part of me others feel at ease around.

I wish that for Jim Carrey. I wish that for us all.

Love in the Dumps? Not with This Crew It Ain’t!

I love sharing the love.  And my latest blog affair’s with Love in the Dumps.  I found out about them, on all places, Twitter, when (if memory serves) they started following me around like a lovesick puppy (KIDDING).  Anyway, I liked the blog title and went over for a visit…and proceeded to shake with the giggles.  Subject matter spans from how to tell if the guy’s a prick to the top 12 things NOT to say in bed.

One of my favorites is the one below (reprinted with permission, of course, of course)….takes balls the size of Yonkers for a young woman to go to Qatar by herself.  I’m small-time compared to this rad gal 🙂

Letter from Qatar

Lately I’ve been busy learning the ways of Allah, and apparently, His people want my infidel ass.

OK back up a bit. Five months ago, I decided to pack my bags and move to Qatar. Yes, the tiny peninsula just off Saudi Arabic – one of the richest countries in the world, where Lamborghinis are as abundant as second and third wives.

Some Arabic I’ve picked up so far: Kees ummak (Your mother’s pussy!), Kees ummak bi ayri (My cock up your mother’s pussy!), Kees ummak bi Ras’ayri (The tip of my cock up your mother’s pussy), and finally Kees ummak bi Ras’ayri sharmoota (The tip of my cock up your mother’s pussy, bitch!). Yes I ‘m a fast learner, Masha’Allah (God meant it so!).

Now that we’ve established the fact that I’m totally opened to mingling with Arabs, I’d like to talk a bit about the cultural differences within the dating scene.

Urrr, what dating scene? First of all, there is none. Because dating is haram (taboo)! If a woman wants to hook up with someone, she has to get married, and contract whatever STD her husband had accumulated from trips to Thailand and Bahrain.

Inevitably, I’ve had several marriage proposals.

Most of the time they just want to get into your pants, so it’s nothing serious. One time in Oman, though, a man gave me a complete list of perks attached to being married to him. Among them:

“I would buy you a Landcruiser,” he said. “Because I want people to respect my wife on the road.”

Ahhh yes. Love is like a Toyota, it can’t be stopped.

“And I only want two kids,” he added. “And only one wife.”

I know… I should’ve jumped on the opportunity. But of course that would’ve been weird without consulting with my father first, so I told him, “Insha’Allah” (If it is God’s will) – the perfect phrase that Arabs use to wiggle out of every difficult situation.

Can’t meet a deadline? Insha’Allah. Forgot to pay someone back? Insha’Allah. Can’t get it up? Insha’Allah.

So, back to the marriage thing. Just the other day, I was hanging out at the beach in northern Qatar, when a Qatari man started talking to me. “Are you married?” he said within the first minute. They sure don’t bullshit around.

“No,” I said.

“I can find you a good husband,” he said.

“Uh ok,” I said. “I gotta go.”

“I love you!” He said after me.

Dude proceeded to follow me all the way till I found my friends (two guys), then finally he backed off.

But this kind of thing happens all the time. Which is why so many Western girls wear fake wedding bands. It happens in the mall, outside restaurants, in supermarkets, etc. And when they have to be more discreet approaching a woman, they hand you a piece of tissue paper with their numbers written inside. (Because that’s just so inconspicuous – a Qatari man handing tissue to a non-Qatari woman – you know, so she can blow her nose with it?)

Anyway, life in Qatar is very interesting, to say the least. Before I sign off, though, I’d like to take a moment and be very Canadian about this. Not all Arab men are the same, of course. Next time I’ll surely devout an entire piece on sexy Arabs… Insha’Allah.

Why Patti Stanger Will Save Us All

Ok, so maybe “save” is too strong a word, but I’m not far off and here’s why:  somehow, this loud-mouthed, to-the-point, brutally honest Jewish broad is bringing back the lost art of courtship.  The ‘rules’ she lays down for all her Club members are frankly good guidelines for the rest of us.

Now, if you’re single and just looking to get laid and not into meaningful relationships, then by all means, have sex without a commitment, get drunk on the first date, and judge someone based on their looks.  That’ll get old real fast in my opinion, but to each his or her own.

And for those of you who will write in and say, “But I met my husband at a bar and we went home together on the first night,” I respond by saying you are the exception and not the rule…and, um, how many other guys did you take home (or how many women did you hubby ride) until you two found each other? That’s a lot of cases of crab meds to buy just to land the brass ring, so to speak.

What are Patti’s Golden Rules? Here are just a sample:

1) Keep alcohol intake to two drinks during a date.

Good call, Patti Cakes.  Alcohol can seriously impair your judgement and can make almost anyone seem like a tasty treat if you have too many.  Besides, I know I personally lose my charm after two drinks, so I can’t imagine that others keep all their faculties together when they’re sloshed. 

2) No sex without monogamy!

Now I don’t believe in that bullshit “why buy the cow when you can have the milk for free,” and I actually think people should see if their sexually compatible before walking down the aisle.  That said, why get naked with someone when there’s a strong chance they’re swapping fluids with others?  Would you chew gum you found under a random subway seat? I didn’t think so… if I am going to wrap my mouth around anything upstairs or downstairs, or bring your train into my station, then you better BA-LIEVE I’m going to make sure you’re not picking up other skank passengers along the way. I’m a first-class ride, and I don’t share very well.  You shouldn’t want to either.

Another point on this subject:  having sex with someone too soon can cloud your judgement, just like a table full of shots can.  You can have strong sexual compatibility with someone, but they may not be right for you in the fully clothed, upright position. One of my best friends – who happened to be a recently separated dad who actually believes in having sex on the first date “to get it out of the way” he says – used to get all wrapped up in the sex and the endorphin rush and miss some pretty important cues about a woman’s character in the process.  Then he wonders why he was ‘duped’ by a tramp later on.  Hmm…I wonder.

Keep the mood altering substances – alcohol, drugs, hormones – on a low simmer until you have a chance to see what s/he is made of…no one’s ever lost out by waiting to see what unfolds.

3.  Be a Gentleman – Hold the Door Open, Bring Her Flowers, and Treat Her Like a Lady.

Chivalry should have never been put on life support, and it’s far from dead.  So don’t act as if it is.  I have never met a woman (a woman who likes men at least) who didn’t give a guy extra points in her head when he pulled out her chair for her at dinner or rushed to open her car door.

Now I’ve heard from a LOT of high school, college students, and even some in their 20s,  who tell me no one really dates anymore – that people just ‘hang out’ and ‘hook up’.  Look, I remember college life and of course there were plenty of times me and a future boyfriend just hung out with a bunch of other people at a party or at the dorm.  But I rarely got naked with someone until we had some one-on-one time together and he had made some sort of effort.  I know MANY younger people are kinda broke all the time, and a date doesn’t have to be the standard dinner and a movie.  There was one guy I dated who made us some sandwiches, got a bottle of wine, and had us hang on the beach at sunset.  Total cost of date? $20.  My point is, it doesn’t have to be expensive in order to be magnificent.

There are things about Patti and her Club that I think suck ass.  For example, I think the whole premise of a Millionaire Matchmaker Club is bogus, and even though she has that rule about ‘no gold-diggers’ who are we kidding?  These women may not be asking for Suga-Daddy to pay their rent now, but their banking on them offering the Good Life later once they land themselves a ring.  Do I think these matches are real? I can’t judge…I just wonder how interested these Hooters waitresses would’ve been in Rich Chubby Boy or in the Braggasaurus if they made a ‘mere’ $100K instead of $10 million.

Also, while I think Patti is usually on point when she offers her critique on the women who audition for her Club, godDAMN I wish she was kinder in her delivery.  Yeah the tramp with the tiger tail hair and the hoochi-mama skirt looks like trailer trash, but there’s a way to talk to people without being cruel.  What would’ve I said to her? “Your choice of hair color and outfit gives off te wrong impression.  Perhaps wearing something sexy but more sophisticated would should you off to your best advantage.” 

Other than that, I love Patti and her show.  And I do have a soft spot for ballsy women from my tribe 🙂  So there.

Money Changes Everything

Wouldn’t it be grand if we were all born with trust funds stuffed to the gills with cash?  Or that once you got married, the government issued you a big ol’ whopper of a check with a note saying, “Hey, we know marriage is hard enough and since us here in Congress are all so pro-family, here’s a few million to keep you breeding and happy.”

Hey, a girl can wish, right?

I bring out my ridiculously unrealistic fantasies because Mr. Mix and I are just getting over one heck-of-a-brawl over money.  I cannot express enough what a killjoy the subject of money is for me.  I think I can speak for ALL women that nothing squashes our love lava faster than hearing our man squawk, “you’re spending too much money!”

For the record, I really don’t spend too much money.  The issue was more about extra expenses occurring that weren’t expected (they never are), and frankly, me needing to feel like an equal partner in our financial decisions in spite of the fact that I’m far from the breadwinner.  Did I mention Mr. Mix can be a bit (what’s the word, what’s the word) CONTROLLING when it comes to money?

Always a turn on, let me tell ya.

I know my dilemma is nothing new.  While I work part-time, I’m basically a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom).  There was a time in our lives when I did work full-time, and by the time I was done paying for daycare, transportation, meals, and clothes, we ended up actually more in the red than the black.  So we decided I should go back to school and get my MSW, so that someday – when the kids are both in school full-time – I can actually earn enough to really help our family.  On nights and weekends, I tutor, but that pays for a few extras and nothing more. 

Frankly, I consider ourselves VERY lucky that we even have the luxury of being able to living on one salary, that we own a house, and are able to live in a fairly comfortable manner. Nothing extravagant, mind you, but comfy nonetheless.  And yeah, we still have some debt we’re paying off (I consider that lil’ chunk the piece of my soul living in expensive San Francisco stole from us).  But that’s where we’re wired differently.  While of course I don’t like having debt, I’m not going to let it ruin my happy family vibe buzz I’ve got going.  We’re paying it off….we live within our means…we’ll get there.

Not so for Mr. Mix & Bitch.  That debt haunts him like a Dickens’ ghost.  It’s a cancer which infiltrates seemingly innocuous moments, and it pisses me off that he lets it override all the good we have.  When he gets like that, he turns to me and says things like, “well, what else can you do to help?”  To which I respond, “Well, I’m going to start off by eating bon-bons all day, then take the gardener, Pepe, as a lover, and THEN I’m going on QVC and buy lots and lots of animal-shaped figurines.  What the hell do you think I do all day?”

Here’s a list of what I do, in – uh – case you were wondering:

Short Order Cook

Housekeeper

Laundry Attendant

Chauffeur

Personal Shopper

24-hour Babysitter

Gardener

If you were to total all these jobs up, I’d be earning around $80,000 – $110,000 roughly.  But because this is all unpaid work, somehow society – and occasionally my husband – will deem these contributions as less than.

Well, shame on him and the rest of you who buy into that.

Do you realize that approximately 70% of the work done in the world is unpaid labor, and the majority of that work is done by women?  I KNEW that Gender History degree would come in handy someday.  Although I must say that at the end of the day, I don’t think this should be a gender issue because I’ve known some stay-at-home-dads who have suffered through the same issues.  Regardless, I can’t tell you how heart-breaking it is to not feel fully valued by your partner.  And so, I told him that…and then I moved myself  into my office for about 24-40 hours.  Don’t worry, I have a cozy day-bed in there.

Because I think of men like dogs sometimes, and being pack animals, the best way to discipline is through isolation.  Needless to say, he eventually came over and I could tell by the look in his eyes and by what he said that he finally understood where I was coming from.  And in return, we spent the rest of the night trying to figure out ways to kick up our payment efforts.  As much as we all may hate to admit it, marriage is just as much of a business partnership as it is a meeting of Kismet souls.

Am I still a little ticked off that he had the attitude he had? Sure.  But do I also understand there’s a LOT of pressure being the breadwinner for your entire family? Yep, I get it.  So, he’ll cut me some slack, and I’ll cut him some too.  Trust me, we’re far from done with this issue – it’s one of our permanent ones – but as long as we can keep talking about it – and remember we’re in this TOGETHER, this too shall pass.

10.  “Nag,” (Joan Jett and the Blackhearts) I Love Rock-n-Roll.

09.  “I Got Shit,” (Pearl Jam) Rearview Mirror.

08. “The Good Life,” (Weezer) Pinkerton.

07. “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg,” (The Rolling Stones) It’s Only Rock-n-Roll.

06. “Skills to Pay the Bills,” (Beastie Boys) Beastie Boy Anthology.

05.  “Pay to Play,” (Nirvana) DGC Rarities, Volume One.

04.  “I Get Money,” (50 Cent) Curtis.

03.  “I’m So Paid,” (Akon, Lil’ Wayne, and Young Jeezy)  Freedom.

02.  “Money Ain’t a Thang,” (Jay-Z and JD) Def Jam 25.

01.  “Hard Knock Life (Ghetto Anthem),” (Jay-Z) Volume 2.

eHarmony or eHomogeny? Does Online Dating Really Work?

“We’re so much alike we could be brother and sister!  In fact, I’m pretty sure we are. Doh!”

When I was single and dating – which feels like it was back in 1912 at this point, but I digress – there wasn’t any online dating.  If there was, I certainly didn’t know about it, and probably wouldn’t have signed up anyway because dating services has a slightly less virulent stigma than AIDS or herpes back in the day.

It really was that bad.

But times have changed and, thankfully we’ve all evolved since then because now-a-days, if you’re single and looking, you’ve got yourself at least one profile up on one of the big dating sites.  And frankly, I’m all for it.  Ironically, now that online dating is so mainstream, I can’t imagine what singles ever did without it – and I’m stunned that dating dinosaurs such as me and my husband somehow found each other at all. 

I also have a confession to make: I’ve always wondered what those online dating sites were like.  I never had the courage to “take a peek” myself, but I was curious about what the hell Dr. Neil Clark Warren (founder of eHarmony) was talking about when he said he matches couples based on, like, a zillion levels of compatibility.  

I had even proposed to Mr. Mix & Bitch a social experiment of sorts…for us to register on a dating site and see if their system would find us to be a compatible match (obviously, we never ended up doing it). 

ANYWAYS…when a fabulous, adorable, smoking hot and sassy single friend of mine expressed interest in registering for one of those sites, I was on it like white on rice…firstly because I want her to find her guy already and secondly, because, let’s be honest, this was my chance to look behind the wizard’s curtain, so to speak. 

So she came over on a Sunday afternoon, we poured ourselves some vino…and answered some questions. Then answered some more.  And then answered even more questions.

Holy crapola, Batman! I had friggin’ carpal tunnel syndrome by the time we were done…which was like 90 minutes later. No joke.

When we FINALLY got her matches, let’s just say there were some interesting choices.

Frankly, I was a lot more open-minded than my friend, who at twenty-something was still looking almost exclusively at the hottie-factor, even though I kept trying to  steer her towards – what my people call – the ‘mensch’ factor…which is Yiddish for someone who’s a good person, first and foremost.

I also started noticing something else after reading some of the profiles….they sounded, um, eerily similar to my girlfriend.  They were all politically conservative, white-bread, outgoing, smart-but-not-too-deep guys from big, fairly religious families.  Every. Single. One of them.

What gives? What ever happened to ‘opposites attract’, right?

According to the – ahem – reliable source known as Wikipedia (I’m being sarcastic, but I’m using the info anyway) Dr.Clark Warren believes that the more alike two people are, the more likely it is to be a lifetime match.  Here’s a snippet about his philosophy:

“[eHarmony believes] to have as many interests, hobbies, religious background, etc as your partner works best. Example-if you grew up in a small town where everyone knew each other, where your parents and you networked inside the same religious, political and financial groups, then you grew to trust certain families. Children exposed to other children from like-minded  families who married, tended to stay married longer.

Does this work? One major problem is not everyone online is going to be attracted to others who share their interests & values. So while offline this is a great theory, marry someone who you have known for a long time, whose parents you know and whose social groups you belong to, online the chemistry is JUST NOT THERE! You can go  and read direct feedback from members.  Bottom Line: taking the long-winded questionnaire can be a waste of time if men are not attracted to the women. And if the women are not attracted to the men.”

Knowing this now, there’s no way Mr. Mix and I would have ever been matched.  I am an outgoing, socially motivated, inherently selfish, kinda loud-mouthed Jewish-Buddhist gal who loves documentary films, memoirs, and local theater, and Mr. Mix is an introverted, intensely private, slightly paranoid, inherently selfless, taciturn Jewish guy who loves bad 80s movies, never reads a book, and college and pro football. 

What a shame if we had missed out on each other! Except for our religion and geographical locations, we have almost nothing in common.  And yet, he’s my best friend – one of the few people I never get bored with.  He is sometimes an exasperating, arrogant, micro-managing son-of-a-bitch, but I’m no picnic either.  That said, we do have a very similar world view and while we go about people and situations from entirely different perspectives, we often agree on where things have been and where we want to go.  Literally and metaphorically.

Would eHarmony’s ‘state-of-the-art’ dyadic adjustment measure scale scientifically picked up on these traits within us and thrown us together?  After going through the process with my single friend – whom I will from now on refer to as Smoking-Hot-Single Gal – I tend to think…no. 

So my advice to singles?

1) Don’t rule out online dating sites, but perhaps pick a couple to throw your fabulous, sexy self onto for the picking. 

2) While physical chemistry is important, remember that some people don’t photograph well, or their sexy-voodoo selves doesn’t come through a one-dimensional medium. 

3) Let everyone – and I mean everyone – you know you’re open to being set up.  You’d be surprised that the friend of a friend of the guy who works with your best friend’s husband may turn out to be Mr. Right On Sugar.

4) Even if you’re lonely and looking, really try not to come off as desperate.  Always keep the frame of mind that you’re a catchety-catch and take the time to see if s/he is right for you – not you proving you’re right for them.

5) I can’t believe I’m writing this – or even admitting to it – but if it’s been a -ahem – long while since you’ve had sex and you’re as horny as the Devil herself…masturbate before you go on your date.  I did that often in order to de-slut myself as much as possible.  Admittedly, it’s not the same as the real thing, but it’ll take enough of the edge off so that you don’t hop into bed with someone before you’ve had a chance to really get to know him or her.  And limit the alcohol because that’ll just jack your drive back up again.

Top Ten Songs for Your Sexy Single Selves

10.  “You Sexy Thing,” (Hot Chocolate) 70s Hits.

09. “Love is My Disease,” (Alicia Keys) The Element of Freedom.

08. “I Told You I Was Freaky,” (Flight of the Conchords) I Told You I Was Freaky.

07. “Bang On,” (The Breeders)  Whip It (Music from the Motion Picture Soundtrack).

06. “Promise Less or Do More,” (The Whitest Boy Alive) Rules.

05. “Wide-Eyed, Legless,” (Laura Veirs) July Flame.

04. “Sara Smile,” (The Bird and the Bee) Interpreting the Masters, Vol. One (A Tribute to Daryl Hall and John Oates).

03. “Shape of My Heart,”(Noah and the Whale) Peaceful, the World Lays Me Down.

02. “Unparalized,” (Kill Hannah) Hope for the Hopeless.

01. “She-Bop,” (Cyndi Lauper) She’s So Unusual.

Gay? Straight? Bi? Try Bored Already.

So the big news in the blogosphere today is that Academy Award winning actress, Anna Paquin, has announced she’s a bisexual.  This, of course, is right on the tails of Ricky Martin’s announcement that he’s actually (wait for it, wait for it) gay. 

Well, whoop-de-FRICKIN’-doo.

Look, let me say right off the bat that I’m all for gay rights. I think the LGBT community should be able to get married, adopt kids, the whole she-bang bang.  And I get that the more people “come out” of the closet, the more we bring complicated issues of sexuality and gender into the mainstream conversation, which hopefully leads to acceptance.  Duly noted.

I guess I’m just bored of the conversation.  Like with race and the presidency, I would like for us – as a nation – to frankly be better than this, that “issues” such as who one wants to shag & love, is in fact no big deal and is no one’s business. 

Moreover, the idea of labeling our sexuality just seems ridiculous as a whole.  For me, as long as it’s human and an adult, whatever you’re into, it’s go-time.  Which is why, I guess, many are turning to the Greeks (because, um yeah, that’s who ya go to when you want to know the origins of pretty much anything to do with sex) for the term pansexuality.

Pansexuality (also referred to as pans), or omnisexuality^[1] is a sexual orientation, characterized by the potential for aesthetic attraction, romantic love, or sexual desire towards people, regardless of their gender identity or biological sex. Some pansexuals suggest that they are gender-blind; that gender and sex are insignificant or irrelevant in determining whether they will be sexually attracted to others.^[2] For others, an individual’s sex, gender expression,or gender identity can be a key factor of attraction, despite the pansexual individual’s wide range of sex and gender attractions.The word pansexual is derived from the Greek prefix pan-, meaning “all”. It is intended to negate the idea of two genders (as expressed by bi-). The adjective pansexual may also be applied to organizations or events. In this context, the term usually indicates an openness to the involvement of people of all genders and sexual orientations in said organization/event, as well as the pansexual sexual identity.

I know.  Sounds kinda weird like that, but is it really?  Truth be told, while the majority of time I’m into men, I will occasionally see a woman who I’d run over puppies to get to.  And frankly, certain androgynous choice selections like k.d. lang (well, maybe 10 years ago) I find totally compelling as well.  And the reason why I don’t worry about putting a label on it is because I see the inherent fluidity within sexuality. 

That said, I know I make such declarations from the comfy seated privilege “throne” of legally sanctioned ‘heterosexuality’.  Trust me, I’m more than willing to share. Really.

Anyway, so Anna Paquin likes hot dogs and hamburgers. Good for her. And psst…Ricky? We figured you out a loonngg time ago.  I didn’t care then.  I don’t care now.  Be happy.  Be safe. And let’s care about something beyond our neighbors’ bedrooms.

Ms. Mix & Bitch’s Must-See Site: Texts from Last Night

I’ve gotta be honest: most blogs bore me to tears (sometimes including my own).  So when I come across a site which has me glued to the screen and laughing out loud, it’s a must-share.

Texts from Last Night is a compilation blog of the most hysterical, piss-in-your-good-panties, text messages.  After reading through this site, the first thing I thought was “My life’s a dull, dull bird.” But that’s okay.  I’ll vicariously live the drama instead.  I’ll itch less that way 😉

Take a lookie:

Best Nights of All Time

• (407):

  i went to disney world today with my friends, met snow white, then saw her later at a bar. she is naked next to me in her bed, passwed out. when you wish upon a star…

  (774):

• i just walked into a room at this party and someone yelled “dibs!”…

  (312):

• I remember going home with 2 girls. Woke up with 4.

  (843):

• Grinding on my ninth grade teacher. Dreams really do come true

  (215):

• i got kicked out of Barns and Nobles cuz i put all the bibles in the fiction section

  (703):

• Just woke up wearing a top hat and simpsons boxers. i also found more money in my wallet then what i had before going out, about $1000 more

  (519):

• and then she said I drew a line on her forehead with my cum and whispered “Simba”

• (919):

  so I was just driving high and I stopped to let a pinecone cross the road because I thought it was a hedgehog.

  (781):

• I was just told by a cop that my party was the most epic party they ever crashed

  (909):

• I thought it was weird that her dad told me to finish and get out after he walked in on us. I like him

  (510):

• he said he didn’t have a condom.

  (415):

  and you said?

  (510):

  that that’s fine cause i was ready to be a mom. yeah – he magically had a condom he forgot about after that.

• (617):

  I would do horrible things to your vagina.

  (978):

  Prove it.

• (214):

  Sex on bubble wrap = best decision ever.

• (847):

  i took some ambien and I TRIPPED out…i went into my mom’s room to say goodnight and i don’t remember anything…she said that i got really pissed at her because we were living in the Keebler elf tree and she was visiting other trees, then i started laughing hysterically and she goes “whats so funny?” and i go “there are 7 people sitting on my knees” and she goes “doesn’t that hurt?” and i said “no we’re sitting in a bowl” and then i capped it off and said “join the crazy train bro” and passed out.

  (847):

• I accidentally had sex with my boyfriend’s twin last night…and he didn’t stop me.

  (1-847):

  How was it?

  (847):

  Fantastic, but that’s not the point.

• (413):
• Before I left in the morning I deleted her purity ring app off her iPod, I figured it would save her the shame

• (928): Maybe we should try & tone it down a notch. The neighbors changed the name of their wifi network to “i can hear you having sex”

• (303): True friendship; bangin a girl to get ur friends hat back

 

• (412): I love the moment a guy admits defeat against the front clasping bra. http://tfl.nu/book

Happy Birthday to Me?

Even though it’s three months away, I am already pondering my next birthday, because yep, you guessed it – I’m turning 40.

Forty.

Forty years old.

When the hell did THAT happen?  I swear, inside my head I vacillate between twenty-eight to thirty-two.  Don’t get me wrong.  I think my forties are going to be great, and my attitude about my thirties is ‘don’t let the door hit ya where the dog bit ya.”  I guess I am just feeling pressure to do something…great. Beyond ordinary, normal and healthy living.

Write and publish a book.

Start a charity.

Adopt an orphan.

By the way, I realize there’s a big part of this that’s ridiculous.  I get that having a healthy and happy family and marriage is something to celebrate. Really.  I also believe, however, that each and every one of us must contribute something beyond our own personal happiness – something that’s uniquely ours to give. 

There’s a part of me that feels like I’m running out of time to do this.

Anyway, so that’s what I’m thinking about these days.