Here in L.A. the women are thin but hair is not.   

For years I hid the shame of my meager mane under cascading falls of long, straight, blonde extensions.  At first it was just one bundle (2.6 ounces of hair).  Then two bundles, then three.  The more I hair I had, the more I wanted….no, needed.  At the height of my EDD (extension deficit disorder), I was probably walking around with a half a pound of hair on my head.  

Men loved it.  And I loved them.  The good looking ones, especially.  Surfers, actors, MMA fighters.

 Which weakness came first?  Impossible to say, as the two were intertwined as tightly as a glue-based keratin bond.   Indeed, both hot guys and hair extensions share uncanny similarities:

They’re fun to play with…

But they give you headaches

They make you feel stripper-sexy

…

But when they don’t work out, things can get ugly.

You can’t imagine life without them…

But then they make you want to tear your hair out

They’re high maintenance

They’re annoying

Last but not least, you can’t afford them

"The opportunities are endless. Your time is not."

My brilliant friend Clara Del Villar just laid this on me, exactly what I needed to hear.  Actually something all of us, men and women, young and old, need to hear .....and heed.

We were talking work, and my pinball machine approach to finding a job/consulting leads was giving her a headache.  Maybe I should go back into television -- PING -- France, I'd love to work in France -- PING -- what was that recruiters name? -- PING -- yikes, my LinkedIn profile needs to be updated -- PING. PING. PING!!

When writing, free association, and whimsical pursuit of bright shiny objects can productively guide our creative path.  But this default mode can be self-defeating when applied to other endeavors.  

Discrimination. Prioritization.  Pragmatism.

Good watchwords, not just in seeking worthwhile work, but also worthwhile mates.  Here however, to apply Clara's Maxim, the opportunities are not so endless… dinner invitations, propositions, flirtations are fewer and farther in between.  So when a man does ask for our number, it is a minor event.  If and when he texts or calls – and it is a lot more if than when by the way  -- the inclination is to "make do" with whatever the suitor is offering, even though it is not quite what we want.  

The analogy would be having grown up in the time of great plenty,  a veritable smorgasbord of treats and sweets and appetizers everywhere you turn… Then, famine strikes (yes I am exaggerating here for effect).  Your stomach grumbles.  Food is scarce.  So when someone knocks on your door offering you a moldy potato, when you never even liked non-moldy potatoes, you will gladly accept it, put it in a pot with a stone and some stale spices and water, heat it up, and call it a feast.  Yum yum.

Now in  fairness, there are some flaws in my metaphor. First foremost, I will not starve if I do not date.  Nor is it exactly the romantic equivalent of Uganda here in Jag's Malibu Barbieland.          

But neither is it a cornucopia of endless possibilities, so on those two or three times a month when somebody actually does ask for my number, yeah, I get a little excited.

This is fine.  I am allowed.  Only let us not have that little moment off ""Wooohoo"" distract us from the fact that I still do not like potatoes, and moldy potatoes make me sick

 It means seeing red flags and making a u-turn.  It means learning to walk on by....and sometimes not walk, but run!In other word, let not the hunger for attention nor the fear of being alone override better judgment.  What does this mean in real life?   It means the art of "next-ing."  It means saying "next"" tto offers of dates  are no  or men that are not real candidates.  It means not accepting dates out of boredom, or wishful thinking or selective blindness.....

  I had a moldy potato moment the other day, and used it as an opportunity to exercise my nexting muscles.    I ran into a friend at a local Starbucks, and as we were chatting, his friend came up and the mutual friend introduced us.  Later, as I was getting in my car, the friend-of-my-friend came up and said "You have to give me your number so I can convince you to have dinner with me."  

  Nice, I thought, confident, knows someone I know, why not?  He gets the digits, and I drive off.   Later I ask my friend about him, "What does he do?"  I should not have done that (and if you want I'll explain why) but given my sensitivity to attracting men on the margin (see previous blog) I was trying to practice a little preemptive screening.  My friend relayed that this fellow David was a really great guy, a close friend, "in the process of a divorce and now dating.  If you like let's get a few people together and have drinks sometimes -- see if you are interested!"

  So, while we are still not privy to David's profession, if any, we have a resounding recommondation from a trusted associate, so we go with the flow, in confidence that all will be revealed.   Well, what do you know, the very next day David surfaces on my samsung with this text:

  "Jag, nice to meet you yesterday.  All 2 minutes....think we should meet and just rap or do something fun during he day.  I'm not ready to 'date' so hope that's cool.  I'm up for anything.  Bike, hike, lunch, jet ski, sail.  I like everthing.  Let me know your preference and if Friday works this week."

So somewhere along the line dinner got downgraded to water sports, and date got downgraded to activity partner.  Still, at the time, I had nothing plannned for Friday, and he was cute, age appropriate, and local.  So, why not roll the dice?  You never know, right?   Actually, I do know.  "All" may have not been revealed, but I have enough data points to inform next steps.  Emphasis on the word "Next."

  This man is not my future husband.  Indeed, let us not forget that at present he is in fact someone else's husband.  So I will not be biking, hiking, lunching or making moldy potato stew with this man, at least not at present.  I am no longer "cool" with spending precious time with any man who is "not ready to date" but I the door remains open to someone who becomes ready.  If I am still available.  Hopefully, I will not be available....and hopefully, planfully, it not be because I am wasting time with Mr. Potato Head, but rather happily engaged with Mr. Right.

A-nexting we will go, a-nexting we will go

(Heigh-ho, the derry-o, a-nextting we will go

A-nexting we will go, a-nexting we will go)

We'll catch a fox and put him in a box

Does red look good on you?  Your date may be thinking how good it will look off of you, and research says this may get him to part with more hard green cash.    Men rate women in red as sexier and more attractive. 

When 150 heterosexual men were asked to rate photographs of women framed in red, white, gray, green, or blue, the color red added about 1.25 points on a seven point scale.  In another study, men were more likely to invite a red-clad woman on more expensive dates.

The tame explanation is cultural associations with Valentine's Day and red lingerie...the wilder, more primal link may be the carmine coloration of carnal organs -- so red may be an evolutionary mating and arousal cue.

Should you don your red "power suit" in other contexts?  Red garb grabs the attention -- and will convey high energy and confidence.  And if those are values associated with your objectives for any particular performance -- interviews, presentations, meetings, etc. -- than go for it.  But if building trust and likeability are key goals, consider darker shades of blue or even white.

Experiment -- try wearing red on your next romantic "opportunity."   Gauge male response and receptivity.  Observe.  Take notes.  Even if this doesn't produce immediate "results" it's a productive exercise for strengthening a feedback loop that can help you adjust your dating approach.