[You can skip self-congratulatory post and head straight to bottom for actual dating advice.]
Yes dearies. It’s my birthday. I turned 37. Yep. 37. Thirty seven. Thur-tee seh-ven. Sounds kinda old, as my friend Tracy informed me last night when she called to wish me well. (She’s only 6 months younger, so she’s allowed to say that.) 36 was ok, but 37…still adjusting to the idea of middish to late 30s, though I never sneeze at having a birthday, what with all the Facebook warm fuzzies from people I haven’t talked to in 20 years. I’m into it.
I’m not exactly sure where I thought I’d be at 37. To be honest, I don’t know that I ever thought that far in advance. I stopped looking ahead at 35 because that’s when my lady doctor told me my eggs would start drying up. I don’t worry about that so much anymore because what am I gonna do? Go out and get unprotected slutty with some guy to get knocked up? Mmmm. No. Maybe at 38.
I digress. I was going to be really obnoxious and talk about how fabulous I look for my age. Well, I look young for my age. Truth be told, I look pretty much the same as I did in 1978 except I’m taller and have more teeth. And even though I always get carded except when I visit my wine guy at my favorite wine/liquor store on Columbia Road, I’ve been told this is a good thing. So I will slip you a beauty secret: Dry brushing. I won’t even go into the alternative-medicine benefits of this business. All you need to know is that it’s GOLD for your skin. You will glow and be supremely soft, which is good for dating because what guy doesn’t want to make time with a lady with supple skin?
I use this brush:
And follow this technique:
I don’t mean to sound like a Jessica Simpson infomercial, but seriously. If you’ve never followed any of my advice before (I don’t blame you, I hardly ever follow my own), do this one thing.
And because this is a dating blog, my dating advice for the day (learned from my old dating coach) that you better do just as soon as you order your dry brush online:
Go out by yourself on a Friday night (think art opening rather than bar) and talk to the three most intimidating guys in the room. Yes, I did it. Yes it was horribly awkward. But yes, I got two phone numbers (a tall pointy Swede and a Peruvian in cowboy boots). And yes, you’ll be able to read about it in my book, The Science of Single that now has a book cover to go with it. In case you were wondering, and I know you were.