Rebecca Coale - aka Becky - is a writer, musician and producer. She and childhood best friend Jessica Donalds created Dating & Hookup and founded J&R Creative Media. Becky blogs about love poetry and modern life & womanhood. She lives with her husband, Howard Coale, and their family in Manhattan and Philadelphia.
photo credit: Rebecca Wiegand
What the f*ck WAS up with my love life?! It was haunting to first read Millay’s Sonnet 42 in 11th grade, before I’d had any sexual encounters of enduring note, let alone a host of young men crying for me, with me, in me, at midnight. Haunting because, despite my lack of love experience, disquieted teenage me totally related to these raw sentiments of loneliness, nostalgia, yearning and – most of all – forgetfulness. I’ve always been an old soul (I’m younger than that now), and, sitting at my school desk, knees and ankles crossed, I could feel in my heart the sorrow of a woman past her youth of carefree passion, past what we distressingly refer to as “her prime.”
My mom and sisters made this to protest the Catholic Bishops criticism of nuns for *gasp* taking a principled stand on issues.
Read more in The New York Times:
Vatican Reprimands a Group of U.S. Nuns and Plans Changes
Nuns on the Frontier (it turns out American Nuns have a pretty badass history)
Read Alison’s Takedown on WTF?!: Catholic Church Cracks Down on American Nuns and Their “Radical Feminist Views”
(photo credit: Rebecca Wiegand)
Ok, Ok, I get it, dudes. There’s a recession going on. You traded down that swanky Midtown studio for a Bushwick warehouse share. You’ve got the ZipCar App on hand, where once you held the wheel of a $0 APR Audi. Even Facebook can’t stand to make a steady buck these days. Let’s just say our collective share price is on the downslide.
But, good news!
Even if you can’t trick out the rest of your stagflation-fabulous lifestyle, you CAN optimize your connectivity (if you know what I mean) in your bathroom. Dudes, the technological options for pimping your john are limitless, but if you were to invest in at least one (or two or three) of these five amenities, I know where I’d be lining up to use the Ladies Room…
One sunny Tuesday at 3 pm, I met, for the second time, a handsome man at a cafe in Gramercy. We had first met there the week before when he came up to me, made a reference to the Greek muses and was (he intimated later) charmed that I could hold my own in elevated conversation. He was an intellectual by profession and a contemporary artist of excellent repute. What a shame, I thought, it would be more thrilling to have an artist of ILL-repute in my dah.
Nonetheless, I was intrigued that he was South American and impressed by his strong opinion on which red wine should be enjoyed in the afternoon. I called him “Professor,” a moniker he accepted begrudgingly until he started “assigning” me “book reports” on Houellebecq with pedagogic delight. We left the cafe, and I let him lead me on a wolfish jaunt through the bustling neighborhood, during which he kissed me, long, hard and for half an hour, up against the wrought iron fence of Gramercy Park. Between deep breaths and our lips touching, I demurred when he whispered he knew a hotel near by. (WTF?!) He left me on the street corner crazed, red-cheeked, mortified, aroused.
This photo, taken in 1867, is entitled “The Devil’s Auction” and features Eliza Blasina, my personal hero for the day. As you can see, she’s wearing a PRETTY SEXY GETUP. What’s not to love about the “horse-head headdress, short costume with attached horsetail, double rows of round beads or bells around ankles, wrists and neck, four rows (Ed. note: four rows!) around upper arm“…? For me, it’s Eliza’s sensuously curled, delicately hoof-like wrists and fingertips that set my heart, errr, a-racing.
Eliza was an exotic dancer of her day. This portrait stands to remind us of what once was alluringly, (perhaps) comically, and certainly naughtily – erotic.
A fairy tale it is not. In truth, it is pretty f*cked up. And by it, I mean my love life. Your love life. Our (collective) love lives in the post-dating world.
It’s been nine months since I’ve last written about the Hot Sex Prospects, OK Cupid Paramours, Guys Who Just Blew Me Off, and Manly Men who comprise at various times, and in various ways, my f*cked up love life. I could have had a baby in those nine months (sorry, Mom!) But instead, I have still been at “it.” Cultivating my dah. Opening myself up to my love life. Hoping to find love – and maybe myself? – amidst a crowd of not-so-shining stars, caught up in a never-ending, techno-romantic tornado of text messages, Skype convos, “games” of words with “friends,” and half-finished e-conversations, crashing, at times, to Earth – IRL – with the wind knocked out of me.
I was browsing the Greenlight Bookstore in my Brooklyn neighborhood and I came upon this incredible book of 100 short poems by Vera Pavlova, a Russian poet. While select poems of hers have been published in the US, this was her first full collection (way to go Knopf!).
I couldn’t put this tiny book and its endless wisdom down. You can look no further than the title poem (and cover art) to realize that Pavlova is in touch with truths and emotions that we women – especially – should heed.
If there is something to desire,
there will be something to regret.
If there is something to regret,
there will be something to recall.
If there is something to recall,
there was nothing to regret.
If there was nothing to regret,
there was nothing to desire.
Way to spin my mind in circles! But I know exactly what she means.
Evidently, Facebook has gone from Poke to Yoke. The new app Yoke.me allows you to meet friends of friends and set up friends with your other friends. Looks like it’s the first attempt to put romance and romantic/sexual connection overtly on Facebook, which up until now has remained staunchly the ultimate “Friend Zone.”
That said, you’ve been online dating on Facebook without even knowing it for a long time now - so apps like Yoke.me could prove utterly redundant.
The Good News: allllll these guys are taking this class at The School of Attraction on how to text better! And be more personal and amusing. And be honest. And spell correctly. Thank god, because SportaboutSarah has already railed on WTF?! about The Dangers of Casual Texting.
The Bad News: The School of Attraction is in Australia.
datingandhookup.com is a website that explores modern romance in the Millennial era – which, let’s be honest, looks nothing like we were taught to expect. We feature essays, advice and social commentary with humor, compassion and brains, and we vow never, ever to publish a piece called “The 10 Best Ways to Satisfy Your Man in Bed”. Do click to submit your work to us. We love you.
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