June 2009

I recently handed Kevin a key to my apartment. No big deal; it was really about practicality. He had come over late at night when I was already in bed, and I don’t like leaving the door unlocked. So the next day I gave him a spare.

In the past, handing out a key would have been a Milestone.

Like, “Oh, we’re at THAT point.” As if handing over the silver door key was like handing him the key to my heart.

I mean, you don’t just hand out your key to anyone. One guy and I exchanged keys early, but we were long-distance, and he worked weekends, so I was at his apartment a lot when he was not. I never could get a key from Frank, even after a year of dating.

I’ve gotten over the whole key-is-a-big-deal thing.

In fact, I’ve mellowed out a lot about many things. Am I cooler now? Wiser? Or just more cynical?

Is giving a key to your significant other a big deal?(surveys)



I checked out Cashmere this week, where “every night is ladies night.”

As someone who goes out downtown a lot, this got me thinking – are there very many “ladies night” specials? So far, I’m not finding many.

Here’s what I’ve got. Please let me know if you are aware of others.

My Cashmere visit was on a Thursday, which is 1/2 priced wine night. Actually, it tuned out to be $5 glass of wine night. But blogger The Raleigh Connoisseur has compiled a list of the ½ priced wine specials in town if you’re into that.

Ladies Nights
Wednesday Blue Martini – $5 Cosmopolitans and a free appetizer for ladies

Rum Runners – No cover for ladies
Bogarts – ½ entrees for ladies and ½ priced martinis. No cover.
Buckhead – No cover for our favorite ladies all night and gentlemen free before 10:00pm! $3 Martinis and $3 wine by the glass

Friday Ess – No cover

When it comes to sex, nothing is simple. Even the government has to get involved. So here are some news updates on how the government is doing that. 090623_newspaper

That sex education bill I mentioned awhile ago passed the Senate, according to a story on WRAL. At issue is whether students should learn about contraception.

And no one likes to talk about HIV, but Saturday is National HIV Testing Day. Responsible adults who are sexually active should get tested regularly. (Ladies, ask your GYN for the test; they won’t just give you one each year during a pap smear.) Here’s some info about NC Testing events.

And in more fun news, Nintendo DS has a new, flirty video game that is raising some eyebrows. Have you seen this? It’s called Secret Flirts and opponents argue it adds to the sexualization of youth culture. In the game, girls have to give their character make-up, clothes, go to a love coach and improve their attractiveness at the gym and salon. Interesting.


Cameron Village Library

I love books. I love to read. And I love libraries.

I can’t believe I’ve lived here for two years and have not gotten a library card. I recently corrected this horrendous problem and as I wandered through the aisles, checking out books, I couldn’t help but wander through the aisles checking out men.

Sure, it’s no Beerfest, but if you long for a literate then the library might be the place to go. I think the key to meeting someone is to have fun and pursue your interests. But honestly, I didn’t expect the library to be a gold mine of guys.

It was a hot weekend afternoon, for crying out loud.

Still, there they sat, guys lined up at computers upstairs, two buying a cup of coffee from the barista downstairs. Not all were hot, but most were in my age range. And apparently, my tank top and shorts was enough to bring a bibliophile’s attention from his book.

The silent atmosphere would seem to dissuade friendly conversation. But I suspect a smile in between stacks, or a quick question — “Can you tell me where to find the books about sports and video games?” — might get things started.

Hell, I was with a guy and I still got a few peeps from over the pages.

What do you think? Have you ever met someone in a library or a bookstore?

Fact: I am in a new relationship.facebook
Fact: I hang out with a bunch of camera geeks.
Result: I have several pictures of me and my new boyfriend.

No big deal right?

Fact: When in a new relationship, you’re excited and want to shout it out from the rooftops.
Fact: I  posted a photo of me and my boyfriend on my Facebook page.
Dangerous combo.
Result:  My aunt, sister-in-law and another aunt are all commenting.

Aunt: “He’s cute. Who is he?”

Sister-in-Law: “At least he’s not 5 feet tall.” (Reference to two shorter guys I dated in the past.)

Aunt No. 2: “Yeah, who’s Kevin? He’s adorable.”

Yet anther example of how Facebook is involved in dating/relationships. Except this time, my FAMILY is involved. Eek! Who invented this evil social networking site? They must be destroyed.

I’m more of a rip off the fuckin’ Band-Aid and get it over with kinda girl.tool_tool_114882_tns

Getting dumped really sucks. Um, big duh. There’s the major dent in your ego, trying to sever the attachment you have to that person. And there’s the part where you try to figure out your life all over again.

For me,  it’s worse when it’s dragged out. So I kept telling my friend Richard to just dump his long-distance girl already. He was being a tool, because he realized it wasn’t going to work, but didn’t want to confront it. Two guys have done this dance with me and I hate it. I don’t need weeks of drama and “I’m depressed, but it’s not you.”

Richard and his girl Francine were what I call the “quick-strike match” relationship. I just had one of those. You start off really hot, fiery and everything is oh-so-incredibly perfect. The feelings for this person swirl around inside you and bust out of your skin. Yeah, that’s called endorphins. Problem is, they start to wear off and then you get to know the person. Within two months, the flame has burned out, and you’re left with nothing but a burnt stick and a broken heart.

He didn’t want to end it on the phone, but she lives in Boston, so what else can you do? Plus, they only really had time to talk once a week.

He waited around and sure enough, she finally broke up with him. (Smart girl.) Except now, she’s the tool. He agreed that breaking it off was a good idea.

I guess she was trying it as a stunt, thinking he’d wake up and act like a better man. So now, she’s withdrawn her disposal proposal and continues to call and text him. He had briefly considered moving there to be with her. Now, she’s sending him e-mails with information about two-bedroom junk apartments for $1,175. This is compared to his $700 mortgage in the Raleigh area.

Yes, being dumped sucks, but let’s not lose our dignity and come off as the desperate girl. Sorry, Francine, but you’re the “Tool of the Week” this time.

I got a box of cool freebies for singles in the mail and I’m going to give them away to you! I’m putting together two gift bags, each with a set of “Tea for One” teas, cool dating cards (“get to know each other better with forty engaging questions guarenteed to enlighten as well as entertain”) and more. I’ll even mail it to you! To win, just email me your TRUE “Tool of the Week” story to singlesuzanne@gmail.com.

Hospitals are cold.

Oh, and I don’t like anesthesia. That’s my assessment after my LEEP cervical conic biopsy Thursday.

As I mentioned last week, my doctor wanted to remove some “bad cells,” which required me to have my first-ever hospital experience. I’ve had my share of stitches in ERs, but that’s the extent of it, so this was scary.

I arrived at Rex Hospital at 10 a.m. for the noon surgery. As required, I had not eaten or sipped anything since midnight. I checked in, filled out paperwork and waited for my name to be called. Soon, I was shuffled to a desk to go over HIPAA and shell out $200.

A yellow-shirted teen volunteer led me and my boyfriend Kevin to a waiting room. I was pleased to see Wi-Fi on the menu. We waited for a few minutes, and then my name was called again.

The friendly nurse introduced herself and we went back to a prep room, where the temperature was probably 60 degrees. I was weighed in at 65 kilograms (144 pounds). My blood pressure was a little high (“nervous?” she asked.) and soon I was donning a hospital gown.

I’ve never worn one, but I made a face as I stripped down. Taking off my clothes was like taking off my armor. Instead of being Suzanne Woodstock, I was now a patient, wearing a hospital gown and a yellow plastic bracelet. Now I was a sick person, just another in a long line of people these nurses would see that day. I got a big case of the icks, shuddered and felt tears spring to my eyes.

Suddenly, I felt even colder. I sat down on the bed, piled the warm blankets on me and told myself to quit being a wuss.

The nurse returned and began asking me questions about my health history, which helped me feel better, but I wrung my hands together anyway. No heart, cholesterol or diabetes problems. No, I have never been put under anesthesia.

Once that was done, she began to put an IV in my hand. I started to ask her questions as she did it, again to help to calm myself.

“Why couldn’t I eat or drink after midnight?”

She explained that it was to prevent me from coughing up any fluids or food into my lungs while I was knocked out. Ah.

She rubbed some numbing solution on my hand and slapped my veins several times. I didn’t feel the needle go in, but it hurt a second later. Like, OUCH. I still have a bruise on my hand. (more…)

Next Page »