Whose Addiction is this Anyway?

Why the minutia of Tiger Woods' daily life was any of my business before or after his wife tried to run him over, I have no idea. All I know is that now that it's happened and he has issued a trite mea culpa cum admission of addiction, I have to hear about him every damn day. Maybe the folks who feel especially disappointed by his infidelities are the same people who worshiped Bo Jackson, Larry Bird or (gasp!) OJ Simpson in their youth. They ascribed super humanity to their superheroes, forgetting the inherent corruption we all face as we mature and confront various moral and ethical dilemmas.

Simultaneous to the Tiger Beat-Off... (yeah, crude I know, but I had to get that in there!), has been a similarly epic media blitz on John Edwards and his baby mama drama. Come on people! If you're going to sleep with a celebrity, use protection. One would hope the money, fame and fortune come with a few condoms. I'm pretty convinced there's a special place in hell for John Edwards and that both his wife and his mistress will be there too.

But what annoys me more than the ridiculously callow behavior of these people is our fascination with it AND in the case of Woods, our willingness to excuse it as a form of addiction. Yes, I'm sure there are people legitimately struggling with sex addiction. However, when it comes to celebrities claiming it, I find it incredibly hard to believe.

Look at our history of political figures and celebrities in this nation - Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, Ray Charles - HUGE womanizers! Drug addictions, ample (and sometimes interracial) extramarital affairs, illegitimate children abound and yet, we don't dwell on those issues when studying the legacies of this important men. None of these guys felt the burning scrutiny of the 24-hour news cycle and so they got away with their philandering. And I have to say that even the most stand-up guys I know who aren't celebrities would have a really tough time remaining faithful if 1000s of attractive women were flinging themselves at their loins on a daily basis.

Our wraparound technologies also make finding willing and able sexual partners that much easier. From AdultFriendFinder to Craigslist, even the average schmo can be big pimpin' any time he pleases. One can only imagine how much easier it becomes when money, power and celebrity enter the picture.

In no way do I condone the behavior of Woods, Edwards or any other idiots out there who essentially commit perjury against their own marriage vows. But at the same time, I simply can't understand why anyone thinks it's news.

Happy Anniversary... to Me

I reached a rather intriguing and potentially day-ruining milestone today - I have officially been single for a year. At one time in my life, this would have been cause for a tub of ice cream and a good cry. Yet, I've actually been pretty happy about it. I can't imagine accomplishing half the things I've done in the past year if I were in a relationship.

Not that my ex wasn't a nice, supportive guy. But I'm not sure that he, or any of the other men I've seriously dated, fully understood or appreciated my ambitions. I joke about my plans for world domination (don't worry, I fully plan to be a benevolent dictator), though I'm not always 100% kidding. Those delusions of grandeur you have as a kid? I never got completely over mine. And what I've discovered during the past year, is that it's a helluva lot easier to accomplish your goals without being in a relationship.

When you're dating someone, weekends often are spent in bed, or watching movies, or doing something obnoxiously cute like walking through a botanical garden together. But when you're single, you have entire weekends to devote to crazy things, like launching a nonprofit organization. Note from the voice of experience: it takes a LOT longer than a weekend. Being single affords one the opportunity to do as much or as little as one wants. And for a compulsive doer like me, that generally means you're gonna get shit done.

Celebrating a year of being single just a few months after turning 30 has also been easier to well, celebrate, because the selection of men hasn't been so astounding lately. Sure, I've enjoyed a few nice evenings and dinners in the company of relatively interesting guys. But not so many second dates. Maybe my standards have gotten higher in the past year. Simply put, I have great friends, a good job and entirely too many fulfilling hobbies. I'll gladly make time for a guy, but he has to be pretty damn fantastic.

Who knows what the next year will bring? Hopefully the ride will continue to be exciting... well maybe not quite as exciting.