In a Relationship With

Oh Facebook, you wonderous place of procrastination, you fabulous site for self-promotion...

Facebook allows us to post whatever aspects of ourselves we want others to see, and, in turn, judge us by. If your social network is anything like mine, you may be noticing the rate at which your friends seem to be going from "In a Relationship" to "Engaged" and from "Engaged to Married." Or maybe I'm the only one who keeps tabs on this stuff because I'm a huge stalker. In any case, I look at one's relationship status (and declaration thereof) as just one of the many ways Facebook helps us show off a little bit. A girl I know's whole profile appears to be dedicated to: Hey look at my super-cute boyfriend I'm so totally in love with! OMG OMG! I prefer to post pictures of myself making pouty faces, which I guess promotes: Hey look how cute I look sometimes. To each her own.

A little over two years ago, I did a bunch of research for my then-thesis, which looked at a phenomenon I called post-college marriage mania. One of the questions I asked the 500+ women I surveyed was if they displayed their Facebook relationship statuses. While most girls who were attached proudly proclaimed they were "In a Relationship" less than half of those who were "Single" declared themselves as such.

Of course, I could argue that singles decided not to broadcast their unattached-ness because they didn't want creepy stalkers. But judging from longer responses from women, there seemed to be a degree of social failure in admitting they were still single. Especially when some of them noted that if they had boyfriends they would certainly put up their statuses.

I used to be the girl who was blatantly (and braggingly) "In a Relationship with..." In fact, when The Ex and I broke up, I debated for a good hour whether or not I wanted our status to die quietly or become fodder for the News Feed. I must have changed my privacy settings two or three times, first to see if I wanted the news to appear on everyone's main page and then to see if I wanted my newly "Single" status to be noticed as well. I was a PR major for goodness sake--clearly my choice would affect the way others saw me, as well as draw attention for better or for worse. Decisions, decisions. For the thousandth time, I never said I was cool.

In the end, I settled for no status (after I let Natasha Burton is now listed as Single sit on the News Feed for five whole minutes). I wasn't ashamed to be single. I was however not exactly sure if I really was or not because I started semi-dating someone soon after The Ex and I broke up. Which was totally confusing because I didn't want to put that I was "Single" if I wasn't, but then I didn't want to not put that I was single and I thought way too much about it and worried and debated and drove myself--and likely others--absolutely fucking crazy. (I wrote a blogpost about it.)

Basically, I've come to the conclusion that displaying one's relationship on Facebook is kinda dumb (says the girl who doesn't display hers). If you're my friend-friend, and not just my Facebook friend, you'll know if I'm with someone or not. And, really, I don't necessarily want to be defined by whether or not I have a boyfriend, or am engaged, or married. There was way cooler things about me, like my Master's degree or my interest in sleepovers and cappuccino foam or those pouty-face pictures, by which I'd prefer to judged.

Though--if you really must know--yes, I am once again "In a Relationship with..." But I'm not going to flaunt it, okay? That would just be tacky (and totally defeat the purpose of this post).

Pick Your Artist: Britney Spears

Tonight I am finally going to the Britney Spears concert at the fabulous Staples Center. When I say finally, I mean that I have been wanting to get tickets to her Circus tour for the past year and see her in concert for forever. However, tonight will be far more than just an outer-body experience of pop-music wonderment. Let me explain:

So, when I broke up with My Ex, his final stand to keep me in a relationship with him (or maybe it was just a really awesome last thing to say to me) was, "Well, I was going to get you tickets to Britney Spears." Oh, in that case, let's date a couple more weeks so you can buy those. Right.

Months later on the actual night of that concert I was with Transitional Guy (and we all know he was terrific) somewhere in Echo Park (I know, I know, I'm a Westsider...what was I thinking?). When I mentioned that the Britney show was that night, his response was that I should have gotten us tickets. Um, no. First of all, if I was going to get tickets, I would not have taken him anyway because he sucked. Second of all, if one of us was going to get tickets for the two of us, that person would have been him. Because sometimes when you are dating someone, you do nice things for that person, like go all the way to some random bakery in Glendale, in lunch-hour traffic, to get that person's favorite dessert from when he was a kid for his birthday. Right? Right???? (If I could go back five months and slap myself, I would, believe me.)

Anyway. When I heard Britney was doing another show in L.A., I called my best friend and bought us two tickets in the nosebleed section and have been waiting anticipatorily every since. (Nope, that's not a real word.)

I saw this "Pick Your Artist" thing on someone's Facebook and always wanted to do it. Basically, there is a series of questions and you have to answer them using song titles from one musical artist. So, in honor of The Ex and Transitional Guy (who are thankfully out of my life), the incomparable Ms. Britney Spears, my BFF J. Jacobson, and of course, me, the coolest chick ever...here are my responses:

Are you a male or female? Brave New Girl

Describe yourself: Lucky

How do you feel? Stronger

Describe where you currently live: Circus

If you could go anywhere, where would you go? Freakshow

Your favorite form of transportation: Boys

Your best friend is: The Girl in the Mirror

You and your best friend are: Lace and Leather

What's the weather like? Hot as Ice

Favorite time of day: Early Mornin'

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called? Gimme More

What is life to you? Heaven on Earth

Your fear: Womanizer

What is the best advice you have to give? What U See (is What U Get)

How you would like to die? My Prerogative

Your soul's present condition: Anticipating

Your motto: Hit Me Baby One More Time

Your favorite color is: Autumn Goodbye

You know that: (I Got That) Boom Boom -and- I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman

If you could change your name, what would it be? If You Seek Amy

Something you are looking forward to: One Kiss From You

Wow. Really, Natasha? Wow.

I was doing some blog work this morning (check out my new labels and tags, and click my ads so I can make some money from this self-indulgent, rant-filled thing), and I found a draft of a post I was going to put up on Valentine's Day at 2:27 pm but never actually did:

Potential Status Updates:
Natasha Burton either needs to start drinking or buy something she doesn't need.

Natasha Burton is once again reminded that Valentine's Day in fact sucks.

Natasha Burton is spending VDAY exactly as she planned--alone.

These potential Facebook status updates were meant to personify (and broadcast) the type of day I was having (shitty). Of course, I did not have the balls to actually make one of these my status update nor blog about them. Yet, while my Valentine's Day did in fact totally suck, I in no way tried to make it better. Also, I did not notice the glaring red flag/life lesson the day provided. Cryptic, I know, but trust me, I should have figured no flourishing romantic gesture was coming my way. Optimism's a bitch.

In any case, these potential status updates made me laugh, because, as I embark on the journey of singledom for the first time in ten years, I'm learning new things about myself pretty much each day. Today I learned that I can write about red flags all I want, but it doesn't mean I actually see them when they're being waved in my face.

Also, I am super guilty of putting up status updates with a total agenda in mind. I figure it is pretty obvious that I do this, but it's the kind of completely-harmless-to-others-yet-destructive-to-myself behavior that tends to replace my need to actually say what I need to say to people. A fact which I'm sure makes me look pretty lame. I thought this calculated-status-update thing might be considered passive-aggressive, but then I looked up the "signs of a passive aggressive person" on Wikipedia and found that is not the case. But I did find the signs very in-ter-est-ing to (literally) say the least.

I Ain't Sayin She a Gold-Digger. Oh Wait. Yeah I Am.

As someone writing her Master's thesis on post-college marriage mania (a phrase I made up, thankyouverymuch), I can't help but be attuned to the relationship-status changes on Facebook from "In a Relationship" to "Engaged."

Another young woman in my network recently got herself ringed. Like many of the newly-fianced I see, she is younger than me. (My 10th grade self would not be pleased. A couple weeks ago, I stumbled upon an entry in my diary in which I wrote, to my future self, not to worry about the stupid boy I had a crush on because when I'm twenty-five, "I will have a gorgeous fiance." Nope.)

I've asked the question many times--why are these girls getting married at 23/24/25? (The religious reasons, I understand. I'm talking about the girls who have clearly lost their viriginty some time ago.) I typically look at the gal's photos to get some clues. Sometimes I see vacations to tropical locales. Sometimes there are private planes. Diamonds the size of dimes. Lacoste polos. Lots of Ralph Lauren. The girl is typically gorgeous. The guy is so-so at best. This is where my stomach gets queasy.

These girls are gold-diggers, whether they want to admit it or not.

Call my attitude bitter, bitchy, whatever. But, as someone who has been on the other side, someone who has been called a gold-digger (by her own sorority sisters, mind you), I feel like this is my terrain.

I've done the private plane thing. The VIP, field-access, secret-entrance, back-door, special-pass-only, front-of-the-line, only-this-key-gets-you-in, open-sesame song and dance. It gets old. Saying this isn't a stab at the boyfriend who allowed me to learn this lesson, it's just something I know to be true. Money can't buy me love. When you marry a man for his--or his parents'--money, (and I'm not calling anyone out specifically, just talking about this as an idea), money is what you get. For some people, that's enough.

Private planes don't cultivate passion. Vacation homes don't get me hot. Diamond rings don't give me butterflies. It's only the man himself who can electrify your every cell with one brush of his lips on your collarbone, one word whispered in your ear, one look.

This is one more thing I've learned in my twenty-five years: If I had to choose, I would rather simply screw a guy I was crazy about than be stuck married to a rich dude with the sexual capacity of a snail.

Just sayin.

What's Complicated?

***I wrote this a couple weeks ago and forgot to post, so it's a little outdated (my life is bit less complicated now, thankfully), but still interesting? I hope?

I've decided to not have a "relationship status" up on my Facebook profile, since ending my epically long relationship, opting to completely erase that little one-line nugget of information from my page completely. This is highly due to the fact that I don't know my relationship status. (Can relationships be quantified anyway? What is a relationship status? Is it like an ETA? Or is it TMI? These questions help distract me from the fact that I have no idea if I am someone's girlfriend or what.)

Anyway. I was thinking, if I were to put up a relationship status, I could put "It's complicated," since there isn't an "I don't know" option. But I don't think those two statements are commensurate. While on the elliptical machine some weeks ago (after I saw the guy I'm engaged in some kind of relationship-y thing with through the window and hid my face, only to have him totally see me anyway and me look and feel like a total spaz), I started thinking about what the complicated option really means.

It's complicated isn't really complicated. It just feels complicated. It's complicated because you're too afraid to ask questions. Or to define whatever it is you have going, because taking that leap feels so permanent and scary. Asking if someone wants to take that leap is more terrifying. Plus, whenever I've seen "it's complicated" up on someone's profile (save my best friend Jenn's because she and her boyfriend have it up as a joke) I take it to mean that you're involved with a guy wants to sleep with you but not actually make you his girlfriend.

Which you think is great at first, because, hey, you've got needs too, until you have no idea what the fuck is going on emotionally and find yourself thinking way too much about him even though sometimes you're not even sure if you really like him that much or if you're just lusting after some ideal version of him because you've built him up so much in your head that he verges on the brink of deity. Then, as soon as you've calmed down and convinced yourself you're okay with the non-definition of your relationship, you see him and he looks really, REALLY attractive (an unshaven face, a tan, and hair on the verge of desperately needing a haircut are my weaknesses) and then you want to jump him in broad daylight.

But who knows? Maybe all relationships, save the boring ones (you know who you are), are complicated. People are complicated. Or maybe all of the relationships I will have will be inherently complicated, because I am. To tell you the truth, I kinda like being complicated. Life is much more interesting without a safety net. But, when I need one, I'll ask for it.