So I read this random article on the internet...

...which has convinced me that I am completely and utterly screwed.

I'm sure you've heard it all before. The theory goes that:

a) Women are naturally attracted to older, wealthy men. Because these older men possess power and status, women are instinctively drawn to their ability to protect their future children.

b) Men are naturally attracted to "fertile" women much younger than themselves.

Sure. The only problem is, I'm the exact opposite. I run screaming from anyone over 30. The more symbols of power and status that men try to cram down my throat, such as fancy cars or tales of board-meeting domination, the more I am repulsed by them.

My violent aversion to the powerful older man isn't a new development, either. When I was in Grade 6, all the girls in my class had crushes on the Grade 7 boys. Meanwhile, I fell head over heels for a Grade 5.

This is all just more evidence that I have no mothering instinct. I have never sought out a provider for my future children. Instead, I have selfishly pursued my own pleasure.

That's okay, nothing wrong with that, right?

Well, according to this article, the men I'm attracted to (my age or younger) are all busy pursuing "fertile" 21-year-olds. Wonderful.

So it looks like I need to develop a sudden appetite for gray hair and crow's feet...or else embrace a life of celibacy. Hello, old friend.

Unfortunately, chivalry is alive and well.

A few weeks ago, I took an informal poll of my friends: “Is it okay to dump a guy because he hates reading?” The answer was overwhelmingly “Yes!”

Now it’s time for another poll: “Is it okay to dump someone because they’re too chivalrous?”

What? Too chivalrous? How can that be? Well, here’s the situation:

We were heading into a restaurant downtown when a young, attractive woman walked by, attempting to wear a sweatshirt as a dress and failing quite spectacularly.

“Whoa, check that out!” I exclaimed.

Mr. X looked at her for a few seconds, thought for a while, and seized my shoulder. “Robyn,” he declared passionately, “I didn’t notice ANYTHING.”

Barefaced lie # 1. He was staring at a girl without pants on for a good 15 seconds. Now, it's true that his intentions in lying were chivalrous. However, I'm used to hanging out with people who are straightforward, and consider it fair game to comment on whatever falls within their field of vision.

Later in the course of the evening, the topic of music came up. I mentioned that I had Katy Perry's "California Girls" stuck in my head. To fully illustrate the depths of my torment, I launched into an off-key imitation of the song, in a whiny nasal voice.

Mr. X leaned across the table, gazed at me with plaintive puppy-dog eyes, and said, "You sang that really well." WHAT?

Now, I know my sarcasm. There was none in his voice. Therefore,

a) this was some sort of attempt at seduction. But, could he really find nothing to compliment me on without resorting to barefaced lies?

b) he was so convinced of my unearthly feminine grace that he truly believed I sang well.

Either way, it freaked me out. So, just for fun, I offered to pay for dinner. I don't usually insist on this, but I wanted to see what would happen. At first, the hyperventilating, twitching, and panicked babbling were amusing, but after 5 minutes, I wondered if I should be calling 9-1-1. Was this the first case of Death by Feminism?

The good news is that I traumatized him badly enough that he hasn't called me back, and I can get on with my life.

Tool of the Month Club

People ask why I don't date guys who describe themselves as "young professionals." I never quite knew the answer - it was more of a gut feeling. But now, thanks to an e-mail I got today, I know! Read it and weep:

Hello wonderful and beautiful people of Vancouver!

We are a group of young professionals who decided that instead of complaining about the lack of fun night life and interesting people in Vancouver, we should do something about it.We know there are several social groups in Vancouver, most have open memberships. Thats fine, but we are looking for something at the higher end. People who are financially secure and want to network with other successful people.We have been to several other groups and have been to a lot of events, some are good some and bad. What we want to do with this group is to be exclusive on who can join so we can find like minded people who share the same passion and interests.

We are not looking to create a huge group, we are fine with 50-100 fun people who know what they want in life.

Yes, this will be exclusive and we will not be allowing everyone to join. We want successful people who are beautiful inside and out and have difficulty meeting quality people at their same level.

What we can promise you is that our team of business professionals and promotion experts will create amazing events and exclusive parties for you so you can meet with the best the city has to offer. We will have exclusive business networking events as well as fun events for singles and professionals.

Some people will obviously criticize us for being exclusive, but at this stage of our lives we are interested in meeting people who can turn into positive relationships for years to come. We want to only attract the best and the brightest from Vancouver.

There will be a membership card issued to all would-be members.

Don't you just want to smack him/her? I probably shouldn't get worked up about a spam e-mail, but... I just hope it's a massive scam, so that the smug douchebags who actually reply to it get taken for all they're worth.

So guys: do you live in your parents' basement? Are you working toward your third masters degree? Have you been writing that brilliant screenplay for 7 years, in between backpacking trips to Thailand? If you answered "yes" to any of these questions, you're the guy for me! At least your hobbies probably don't include "eugenics."

The best thing that EVER happened to me?

I just read a fascinating article by Judy Segal, called “Cancer isn't the best thing that ever happened to me.”

http://www.vancouversun.com/health/Cancer+best+thing+that+ever+happened/2752354/story.html

For those of you who aren't going to click the link, here's what it's all about. Basically, when she was diagnosed with breast cancer, she found that there was only one way that she could talk about her experience, only one possible script to follow: “I found a lump; I was scared; I stayed positive and I fought; I recovered; now I am a better person; in some ways, cancer is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

If she deviated from this scripted narrative, by hinting that she was scared or angry rather than enlightened, family, friends, and society didn't know what to do with her. She says it best: “If, as a person with cancer, you violate the code of optimism, or if cancer somehow failed to improve you, you'd better be quiet.”

*******DISCLAIMER*********

I am now about to make a possibly inappropriate transition into whining about my personal life. Please note that I don't intend to belittle cancer – dear family members have had it, and at work, I see amazing, brave kids face things every day that I've never imagined. If you are offended by inappropriate segues, please stop reading now. Thank you.

So anyways, as you know, I recently experienced a breakup. When I tried to talk about my feelings with an old friend, he threw a fit and decided he never wanted to speak to me again. I had no idea why, until I read that article. I realized: he threw the fit because I wasn't following the Socially Acceptable Breakup Narrative. You know the one:

The day of the breakup:

I eat ice cream in my pajamas while watching Sex and the City. My girlfriends come over to comfort me, we give each other makeovers, and possibly a pillow fight breaks out.

The next day:

I vow to put it all behind me. Aren't I glad that I'm not with that horrible person anymore, who constantly made me miserable? I just want to forget all about him! Now I can finally be ME!

The next week:

This is actually the best thing that ever happened to me because now I'm so much stronger! What a wonderful opportunity!

But that day, talking to my friend, I mentioned that I still value the great times my ex and I had together, and that I think being single actually kinda blows. In other words, I went waaaay off the script. And he had no idea how to react. Hence the hissy fit and ensuing silent treatment.

I guess what I'm trying to say is: some things just plain suck. And you shouldn't have to be shunned by society for saying so.

I will leave you with the words of Michael Scott :

“You know when people say, getting fired was the best thing that ever happened to them?

I feel sorry for those people.

That's? The best thing? Really? Yugh!”

I wish I owned this place so I could actually go through with it...

Dear Robin (sic),

I appreciate that you are such a quiet neighbour. However, I would like you to know that I was awakened at 3 a.m. last night because of some noise (which I believe originated from your apartment).

Regards,

Weirdo.

Dear Weirdo,

I appreciate that you usually have a life. However, I would like you to know that you did not have one at 3 am last night. You also did not have one this morning, when you took time to compose and type an overly formal letter to me. I trust that you will take measures to remedy this situation, and regain said life in order to preserve the quiet, peaceful character of this building.

I would also like to draw your attention to the severe winds that were in effect April 2-3, 2010, which caused a severe rattling of windows and blowing about of garbage cans, and were likely the source of said noise. Although I am 25 years younger than you, unfortunately I did not cause this phenomenon just to annoy you, and thus cannot accept the blame.

Regards,

Robyn.

In which the blogger discovers the impurity of her soul...

So I went to a Yoga class today. I figured, since it is Vancouver's main pastime, I should give it a go!

Now, there was a chance that I inherited a Terrible-at-Yoga gene. My dad lives and breathes yoga - it changed his life. My mom, after listening him rave about the benefits of yoga for years, decided to join a class. For those of you who haven't met my mom, she is a very fit lady, and can pass for 20 years younger than she is. 15 minutes into her first yoga class, she ran from the room to puke her guts out.

I thought I'd be okay, though. I figure-skated for almost 20 years, and had no problem with whirling at breakneck speed around the ice. My coach used to make me spin for 3 minutes straight, while timing me with a stopwatch. Dizziness was never an issue, and a lot of yoga poses are quite similar to figure skating poses.

I picked a Hot Yoga class, which I also thought would be okay. I love the heat. I'm more comfortable in 40 degree heat than I am in an air-conditioned room. I was in Greece in 2007 (remember the year with all the wildfires and the record-breaking heat?) and just loved it. I was the only one out exploring while my tourmates suffered, with the AC blasting, in their rooms. So, Hot Yoga - no sweat! (har har)

15 minutes into the class, I started to feel, well...funny. "Breathe it out, just breathe it out," I reassured myself. 30 seconds later, I was in the washroom with the dry heaves. 15 minutes later, I told myself, "Okay, you got through it, now finish the class!" 5 minutes later, I was lying on my mat watching the the room spin. That was the end.

I left, still clutching my stomach in agony, while all around me happy voices cried, "That was sooooooo much fun! I want to do it EVERY DAY!!!!!"

So, has this ever happened to anyone else, or do my mother and I need exorcisms, pronto?

Remember this guy?

This is Manuel Uribe, the 2007 world record holder for Fattest Man, en route to his wedding on a flatbed truck. His wife, Claudia Solis, is actually quite an attractive lady. Now, I don't mean to belittle Manuel's condition, or the power of this couple's love. But...don't you think this story proves a point? That dating is soooooo much easier for men than for women?

I mean, really. Guys, you can literally weigh a ton, never leave your house, and require a "specially designed ramp" in order to have sex. But still, some beautiful woman will magically appear and fall in love with you. It's not fair.

Pick up any women's magazine and you'll notice that its main subject is Keeping Your Man, as if men were the most skittish, impossible-to-please creatures in the universe:

Date ideas to Keep Your Man!

Makeup, fashion, and hygiene tips to Keep Your Man!

Celebrities who have Kept Their Man, and how!

Celebrities who have not Kept Their Man, and why!

Are you too jealous? Are you not jealous enough?

Are you too flirty? Are you not flirty enough?

Are you too distant? Do you need to give him more space?

The rules of Keeping Your Man are enough to make a girl's head spin. And even if you follow every rule to the letter (even the stuff that contradicts the other stuff), it's completely futile. Because men ARE the most skittish, impossible-to-please creatures in the universe. One day you'll look at him the wrong way, or Saturn will be aligned with Sagittarius, and he'll be on the first bus to Splitsville.

It's just not fair.