The freshness of a new year is unparalleled — it brings a new perspective, uplifting hope, and a renewed cycle of the seasons.

More importantly, it brings a brand new me.

The writing in my notebook begins clean and neat, no coffee stains. I dot my I’s. I write due dates down weeks in advance. I color code my reading with bright highlighters. Yellow — important. Blue — relevant. Pink — facts that will make me look intelligent in stimulating conversations about world issues. I go to the gym. I quit smoking. I stop biting my nails. I think of giving to charity.

I begin (for the umpteenth time) my pursuit for a wholesome, giving and fulfilling relationship. This year, I tell myself, determined, heaving on the treadmill, will be my year to shine. I will meet someone special. I will be actively pursued — wined, dined, flowers, chocolates and diamonds galore. (Note: wined and dined is subject to interpretation, I will settle for 40s and a Happy Meal) Men will want me. Women will envy me. Meatheads will stop spilling beer on me. I will become virtuous and talented, graceful and witty. I will be able to toss my hair in a way that no head of hair has ever been tossed.

Every year of course, my self-improvement plan fades. Come the next ball dropping, I can still barely do a sit-up, and my nails remain presentable at best. Smoking — let’s not discuss it. I am two months behind on world issues, while my check to the United Way has bounced. And, well, as the countdown begins, and I take a quick glance around the room to see what lucky man will kiss me at midnight, I realize that I’ve already kissed all these guys many a time in high school, and they all do funny things with their tongues.

But this year — 2002 — will be different. VASTLY different. Helllloooo — this is the year of the couple — there are two twos in EVERY date for Chrissakes! AND I’m a sophomore — that’s my SECOND year in college, I am TWO inches taller than five foot TWO, and I have TWO eyes and TWO ears. My room number is TWO-thirty-TWO. I will be turning TWENTY. “Popstars TWO” is on the WB. “The Real World” has TWO gay people. Does no one see the pattern here? Basically, I’m destined for couplehood. It’s all in the numbers.

Of course, being a part of a couple is by no means easy. It takes hard work, dedication, and above all, a plan of action. Direction is essential. Finding a boyfriend is like getting a job. Your resume has to be impressive while your cover letter should be informative and communicative. Lie, lie, lie. Make sure to leave some questions unanswered, though — there needs to be something to talk about during the interview.

I have devised a plan unlike any other in my pursuit for Mr. Right (or Mr. Right Now). It is called, (drumroll, please) Operation GLWC2 — Get Laid with COMMITMENT and CONVERSATION. “GL-ing” is by no means difficult. It is proven to be, in fact, quite easy. Take Woody Allen for example. It is the WC2 part that presents the major hurdle.

But fear not, because I am a skilled hurdle jumper — famous in many elite hurdle-jumping circles — and I am here to impart my expertise upon one and all.


I decided that if I am going to face the vast gaping black hole of dating, I need to put the best possible me out there on the market. Polished, well presented and put together. This involves coming through on at least a few of my new year’s resolutions. I need to be all that I can be, without resorting to the armed forces. This means above all, hard-bodied, well-read with an updated haircut. First things first, I took care of the haircut over break. My curls now have a flattering come-hither face-framing bounce. Phew.

Next, I made sure to compile a thorough reading list (remember, organization is key). Among my top choices “Fire on Ice — The Biography of Eric Lindros,” Henry Kissinger’s “Diplomacy,” and, of course, “How to Drive Your Man Wild In Bed,” by everyone’s favorite Brit, Graham Masterton.

As for the hard-bodied part, no quarters are bouncing off my abs quite yet, but, maybe one day — sigh. I’ve heard that at BJ’s you can buy one of those Electronic Ab Zappers for $35 that they advertise on BET. Stay back — I’m first in line.


As many of us know, the cardinal rule of investing is diversify your portfolio. This applies to Operation GLWC2 as well. Do not limit yourself to stocks, or bonds, or mutual funds alone, instead, try a little bit of everything and making a profit will be more likely. In order to do this, I have decided to join a variety of organizations in order to meet a wide variety of men. As you know, I write for the paper. This allows me to meet the slightly shy, intellectual, well-read sort.

Next, I am a member of the Yale Entrepreneurial Society — a place where I’m sure to encounter testosterone-charged, hard-nosed, but inwardly sensitive future investment bankers (i.e. a long term investment with high payoffs in the end). A community service organization allows you to pick up the giver. This is the guy that will give give give. We’re talking the listener, we’re talking — you, yes you ladies, WILL have an orgasm (gasp!). Try FOOT for a romp in the woods with a scruffy, socially aware, granola-eating stud — the possibilities are endless. Just stay away from a cappella — high-end dividends with diminishing returns.


If all goes according to plan, Operation GLWC2 will lead me to a loving caring boyfriend, but along the way, I have pledged to leave no man behind. I am an equal opportunity employer, and the man who may not seem like the number one choice right away, may prove to be so eventually. Thus, I have pledged to say YES. YES YES YES to the man who says, “Hey — take a chance on me!” I will, I will take a chance, I proudly say. Because, although I have found that getting a boyfriend may take devotion, enthusiasm and an impenetrable strategy, keeping one is easy. Just swallow.

Natalie Krinsky has had over 104,000 hits on her last column online. When was the last time that many people hit on you?