The Day I Shot Cupid

by Jennifer Love Hewitt

  Jennifer Love Hewitt

  The Day I Shot Cupid

  Hello, My Name Is Jennifer Love Hewitt and I’m a Love-aholic

  This book is dedicated to all of you looking for love. Mom, G-ma, Michelle, Jenny, and Dye, who always teach me about who I want to be. My girlfriends, who are always there. My brother, who is my hero. Scott, for believing in my book. And JK, for being a great partner and my real truth. I love you…

  Contents

  Preface

  Introduction

  Let’s Talk Men, Women, and Where We Are

  Cereal Dater

  Balls, a Dress, or a Dress That Hides Our Balls

  Macho, Metro, or Hero

  Dumbfounded Genitals, or Who Took My Mojo?

  Flossed and Tossed

  The Things We are Faced with While Dating and in Relationships

  (The Hookups, the Big Ups, and the Big Downs)

  The Stages Are Set

  Texting or Sexing

  IM in. IM out. I’m Still on His IM

  Three Strikes, You’re Out

  Something Smells

  Déjà Wardrobe

  When Your Relationship Comes to a Skid…Mark

  Natural Dilemma

  BuTTinski, or Does My Butt Look Big?

  His and Her Thrones

  WWW.ZIPIT.COM

  Let’s Play “We”

  Breaking up is Easy to do; Surviving it is the Hard Part

  (Can’t Live With ’Em, Can’t Live Without ’Em, Can’t Shoot ’Em! Well, Maybe in Some States.)

  Put Your Big-Girl Pants On and Get Over It

  It Was Vagazzaling

  Table for One

  In Whom Can We Trust

  You Love Me, You Really Love Me or Maybe Not

  Get Moving!

  Twenty Things to Do After a Breakup

  Actual Facts About the Heart

  Let’s Snuggle! The Hormone That Makes Us Do So

  Stop! In the Name of Love

  For Female Eyes Only

  My Five-Day Diet…That Only Lasted Three

  You’re So Vain…You Probably Think This Varicose Is About You

  Bitch, Please

  Fat, and Not with a PH

  OMG I’m 30!

  Be Polite, It’s Cellulite

  W.O.R.T.H. (Women Over Relationships That Hurt)

  The Perfect Date, Batteries Included

  Fun Little Extras

  Ten Things to Do Before a Date

  Ten Things NOT to Do Before a Date

  Five Things He Should Say on a Date

  Five Things You Should NOT Say on a Date

  Ten Hard-Core Truths About Men

  What a Man Should Know

  What a Woman Should Know

  What Does Love Mean?

  Twenty-five Things They Haven’t Written About Me in the Press

  So It Comes to an End

  Credits

  Copyright

  Preface

  Okay, so why did I, an actress in her thirties, decide to write a book on dating? Well, leave it to Cabo Wabo! I had a massive broken heart, so I hopped on the plane with my mom, aunt, and a bunch of friends. We found ourselves at this beautiful home overlooking the ocean and, like most meetings of the female brain, talking about men. I was so intrigued, the age groups, types of women, and lifestyles were all so different, but the message and moments the same. Dating is hilarious and awkward as hell. Relationships are difficult, beautiful, and confusing. And love is somehow worth it all. It was like the pen and paper had to be used at that moment, so I took all the things we were talking about and started writing. Of course, I added my own funny comments to them, because if you can’t laugh you won’t make it.

  At dinner that night I presented my romance thought pages to the table, hoping to ease any past pain, laugh about the hours of life lost on bad dates, and show that we are all the same. They loved it (the tequila helped)! As I wrote them, healing began for me as well.

  At the end of our great trip, I went home with a new thought. What if this is why I went through all my dating crap? Maybe I’m supposed to be the kindred spirit of millions of women out there who are just like me. And there it was, the new relationship that I would begin would be with me, my past, my present, my laughter, my pain, and, most important, all of you.

  Introduction

  This, for me, is the perfect place to start. Although I was actually born on February 21, there was a chance that I would come one week earlier, on February 14. That’s right, Valentine’s Day. I refused to believe until I was ten or eleven years old that Valentine’s Day was not actually created for me. Why? Because my name is Love! My mom named me Love and almost gave birth to me on Valentine’s Day. Hello? I was born to be a hopeless romantic. It’s worked well for me so far, or so I thought. And that brings us to now. This is the most eye-opening and slightly depressing part of the book, so let’s get it over with. What I am about to tell you will include shocking details, lies, and murder. Continue to read at your own risk.

  Okay, here it goes. On a cold day, with a little rain falling on the windows (who am I, Agatha Christie?), in the most gorgeous light of the afternoon, I sat at my computer, wondering what I could say today that would have some real value to those of you kind enough to read this book. I decided to turn to my faithful friend Cupid for some help. You know, Cupid (said with little kid voice)—cute little guy, kind of like a baby and a man all in one. The little man in the diaper who finds us true love, shoots our dream man with an arrow, brings him to us, plays the violin, and helps us live happily ever after. That Cupid. (Back in my own voice.) What I found next would forever change me. What the hell to my Googling Cupid eyes should appear, but the TRUTH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Cupid was actually a scorned lover. A person so hurt that he made poison arrows to shoot at people that would hopefully destroy their chance for love, because misery loves the company of a tiny man in diapers. He was an evil little shit, not a cute baby with magic arrows waiting to point at our perfect companion and bring us love’s every happiness. Lock your doors. Cupid is not a good guy! Suddenly my love life flashed before my eyes: all the Valentine’s Days, the arrows I shot in my mind toward the dream guy in front of me, the hours I spent thinking Cupid would make it better. And for what? He was just as depressed and hurt as I was. And P.S.—he didn’t want to use his powers for good. It begs the thought—we saw a little man in a diaper shooting arrows and thought that meant true love?????

  After an hour of seriously doubting my stock in Hallmark, I knew exactly what I had to do. I HAD TO SHOOT CUPID!! I had to believe in my mind that there could be romance without him. Maybe not the kind with symphonies and floating hearts (although that kind stabbed me in the back more than a few times), but something I could create with another person that would be all our own. Romantic comedies are there to give us dreams and butterflies, but what we can create in our own lives could be not only better but real.

  So I did it! I SHOT HIM! This would always be…THE DAY I SHOT CUPID. I let my mind kill all its previous romantic ideas and believe what would come next would be greater.

  As I write this, I am only two weeks into this “transformation.” I’m not gonna lie, I have had a few “everything is changing” panic attacks, but I also feel like I’m on the brink of real growth. I ask myself now what romance really is to me. What a man needs to do and what I would want to do for him. I am learning, and not depressed by the way, how to create my own fireworks and rapid heartbeat. I‘m suddenly not as let down by everyday romantic screwups because the only thing to live up to is organic, from within, not a list of do’s and don’ts given to me by romantic icons who aren’t real. At first glance you may be thinking…Jaded? Bitter? Hurt too mu
ch? But let’s change those thoughts to something more productive, like Strong, Realistic, and Grown-Up. Let’s never again rely on someone or some myth to bring us happiness or love. Let’s try it ourselves. Let’s make our own paths and believe that what the universe has for us is perfect. Let’s go out and find the love we always wanted but this time with our feet planted on the ground, our inner sparkle as the arrows, and the belief that love does happen for all of us. By the way, if you see a man in diapers, keep walking!

  It was important for me to tell my views of men and women so that you know I take no sides. I really do think both sexes are completely nuts and beautiful. We will always need and want each other. It is just all about communication, understanding, and, oh yeah, knowing when to say you’re sorry, even when you’re right.

  Let’s Talk Men, Women, and Where We Are

  A kiss is a lovely trick designed by nature to stop speech when words become superfluous.

  —Ingrid Bergman

  Cereal Dater

  (and not Cocoa Puffs)

  Serial dater—it’s like a bad KICK ME sign on my back. It’s not a cute little nickname my girlfriends gave me for laughs. It’s a nickname given to me at least a thousand times in major magazines, television shows, and articles that are supposed to be talking about my work. And, oh yeah, the people who said it DON’T KNOW ME! I cannot even tell you how many times I’ve been reading an article, happy with what they have written, focusing on all the right things, and then, like the clap, it appears, serial dater. The term I have come to be permanently perplexed by.

  What does it mean? That I date men and kill them? Yes, I have dated a lot, not on purpose, by the way. I would have loved to have met my soul mate in fourth grade and never looked back. Not my fate obviously. So, I have dated, not any different from anyone else, except my entire dating history has been documented by the press. So I ask only this: please wipe serial dater off the books and think of me as a girl who is looking for love just like you.

  Balls, a Dress, or a Dress That Hides Our Balls

  I will never forget the time a guy I was seeing told me to leave my balls at home before our date. I didn’t understand what he meant. When he explained, it made sense. I was trying to control our dates like business meetings, moving too fast, as if I had an agenda to get through and couldn’t talk about anything else but work (okay, I still had a lot of growing up to do). It’s true, during the day, for my career, business, and personal strength, in essence I strap a pair on as armor, but then at night, I want to be soft, girly, and taken care of. Although I understood what he meant, I was insulted. Why can’t there be four balls in a relationship and two of them be mine? Then, after the silent treatment, kicking him a thousand times in my mind and a movie, I realized something: My theoretical balls were taking away his chance to be the guy. He wanted to step up and let me be the girl I so wanted to be, but my balls were blocking the way. I had to be willing to be the softer, not so feisty version of myself to get what he and I both wanted. Ah, such a nice thought…for about a week.

  QUESTION: Why can’t we be strong, self-assured, tough, sometimes even scrappy, and still be treated like a girl? Or…why don’t we choose the men who will let us be that? Which brought me to my big question: WHAT DO WE WANT? THE BALLS, THE DRESS, OR THE DRESS THAT HIDES OUR BALLS?

  To be honest, I still go back and forth. Every time I watch an old movie I want to be the damsel in distress in a dress (think King Kong and Jessica Lange). Every time I watch a Julia Roberts movie I want the dress and balls (oh yeah, I’m talking about Pretty Woman). Every time I watch Oprah I just want a big pair. Sometimes I’m great at being a girl and other times I find myself playing his part and mine. But I am making a decision right here and now. I think hiding all of that power under a knock-out Miu Miu sundress is the way to go!

  What we forget is every one of us is great just because of who we are. If you feel strong, you will be strong. We have curves that make even the greatest designers’ clothes look better (even though they usually show them on sticks). When our hair blows the right way in the wind we can stop traffic. We glow when they sweat. We can do a hundred and fifty things at once and, oh yeah, bleed every month. And on our best day we are the one thing that can leave a man speechless. So be strong, have personal power—good God, roar if you have to! But a couple of nights a week try letting it all be your undergarment and on top put a dress, perfume, some sparkle powder, and a little willingness to let him lead.

  You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.

  —Sam Keen

  Macho, Metro, or Hero

  (and then there were three…types, that is)

  THE MACHO MAN

  He plays lots of sports, worships his guy friends, loves beer, and is always planning an adventure that has you dangling from ropes. He will never be as sensitive as you want. He’s the brawny guy, super strong, who makes you feel protected. He has strong lips and makes you remember the guys you dreamed of when you were eight.

  THE METROSEXUAL

  Oh dear God! He’s the guy none of us ever pictured. Metrosexual? What does that even mean?! Who knew it would be okay for your boyfriend to have as many hair products as you, order diet Coke while you order regular, spend more than you do on the finest fabrics, and take all your tissues at the hot romantic comedy. They are sensitive, aware of your feelings, and fulfill the more yin-yang needs in your relationship (they can also be one parking spot over from your gay best friend).

  THE HERO

  He is a gentleman who opens your door and knows the importance of a flower. He is not afraid to let you see him cry, plans dates for you when you least expect it, still believes in a good love letter, can admit that he has watched you sleep, and dresses up for you so you feel like the luckiest girl in the room. He wants to understand what romance means to you and make it happen. He lets you be strong and loves when you are weak. He is the one you wait for and think you will never find. And sometimes, sadly, he is the one in front of us who we miss.

  The good news is none of these are bad choices. The bad news is we kind of want parts of all three. So how do we get that? If I knew, I would be the eighth wonder of the world! Maybe, for now, we should open our minds, let down our defenses, and try to see it from their side. Women are very complicated—I say this part carefully—maybe it’s not always the guy’s fault. There is someone out there for all of us, I really do believe that. But instead of looking for perfection, look for happiness, because remember, as women, we can also get it wrong. And our so-called perfect mirror can be turned on us at any moment and, oh God, we do not want to see that! Let’s look at each other with love and respect and find the one who is right for us, not the one who is perfect.

  Dumbfounded Genitals, or Who Took My Mojo?

  Just when we think guys don’t think of us, they do. Except it’s not how wonderful or complex we are. They think, “What’d I do now?” Or “Will I ever make her happy?” Kind of sweet, right? Or are they just lost and ready to give up? I’ve talked to some guys, and until the girl figures out her woman, the boy can’t figure out his man. OLD SCHOOL VS. NEW SCHOOL seems to be their biggest complaint.

  Old-School PHONE CALL

  When a guy asked for your phone number and just couldn’t wait until the next day to call, he was peachy, dreamy, and so cute! If a guy asked for your number and waited to call, he was shy or respectful. You would sweat with excitement and anticipation!

  New-School PHONE CALL

  If a guy calls the next day, he’s desperate, hard up, or a stalker. If he waits a while to call, he’s a player, man-whoring himself out to skanks, or “he’s just not that into you.”

  P.S. Now that I know he’s just not that into me, where do I go from there? Yeah, thanks for that advice.

  Old-School DINNER

  A woman would maybe offer to go dutch for dinner (that means each pays half). But most of the time she would never even think of paying and would be gratefu
l that a nice young man had treated her to dinner.

  New-School DINNER

  If a guy suggests going dutch, he’s a moocher, broke, using you, and probably won’t get to date number two. If he pays sometimes, you thank him. But other times, it’s “Why? You don’t think I can pay for dinner? I have a job. I’m not your little woman.”

  Old-School ROMANCE

  If a guy was romantic or made a fool of himself for love, he was husband material, well raised, and the one you had been looking for.

  New-School ROMANCE

  If a guy is too romantic or makes a fool of himself for love, it’s “Did you cheat on me? Is that why you’re being so nice? Are you gay? Are you a stalker? Or, I know, you just want in my pants!”

  Now, although these examples are extreme and do not represent all women, they do happen and we do seem that crazy to guys. So maybe we should step back and think for a minute. Have we gone too far? Is it necessary to fight so hard when it comes to love? Are we so used to fighting for our position as women that we don’t know when to quit? And here’s the big one: Are we risking our chance at being the girl? Guys are lost and need our help. We have to decide what we want and how we want it in order for them to give it to us. We have to be clear and decisive (some of us may have to look up the definitions of clear and decisive). So here is something to try. Before you go out with him the next time, make a decision about who you are as a woman in love. Do you want to be the girl? Do you want to be the boss? Or do you want to be his equal (remember that whole dress that hides our balls thing)? And you also have to decide if you want a man who is just trying to please you, a man who is scared, or a man who is being himself. Once you decide, stick to it. Show him in words or actions—your choice—what kind of man your woman needs.