Sunday, August 24, 2008
Firstly, I have rejoined the realm of this single. The blog title is therefore legitimate. I know you were all very concerned about that. In one of your typical 3 AM arguments over the status of the relationship, it became abundantly clear that for a variety of reasons, my relationship was going, going, gone. It's not for me to dwell on the details and in addition to a perpetual respect to the other party involved, I will refrain myself from sharing any of the nitty-gritty details.
I am single. That's what you need to know.
In other S&M news (Single and market, get your heads out of the gutter), I started some new academic pursuits this weekend which means two things. The return of the all-nighter (both recreational and work related), and the new pool of talent with which to work. I have lots to report about in the upcoming week so get back in the habit of checking your computer for updates. I'm about to get so ill on the single market they are going to have to hand out medication.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
I’d like to take a moment to talk about the one of the greatest/few acceptable chick flicks of all time, When Harry Met Sally. Some may question my admission that I get ill with the rom-com genre of film, but for those of you that have had the good fortune to see this classic (and I do mean classic), you will understand that there are few cinematic pleasures like watching Meg Ryan and realizing that she was actually hot and watching Billy Crystal and realizing that he was actually funny. But I digress… The point of me gushing about WHMS is the crucial moment in the film the one night after Harry and Sally have slept together after finally having become ‘platonic friends’. Sally wakes up relaxed, comfortable, and to a fleeing Billy Crystal. Billy makes a cop out ‘I have to go to work’ excuse and leaves. Their relationship proceeds to go into Jane Eyre stage a.k.a Emo and boring.
The moral of this story is that hooking up with friends is convenient, comfortable and complicated. Let’s put it this way: It’s as likely that everything will go back to normal in your relationship as it is that everything is going to go back to normal in
- Preggers (Love child with your buddy, could be worse)
- Diseased (That’s not a shaving scab on his lip… )
- Emotionally shattered ( Haagendazs and the magic wand for the next 6 months)
1. Preggers (I hope she wasn’t the DUFF)
2. Diseased (So that’s what that smell was)
3. Emotionally shattered (Haagendazs and the Fleshlight (Google it) for the next 6 months)
When you cross the line to physicality with a ‘friend’ the bottom line is that you can never go back to whatever you had before you saw each other naked ( Images that scary do no leave the catacombs of the mind). Don’t try to convince yourself otherwise. Once you have you have been inside your buddy/had your buddy inside of you, saying ‘that’s what she said’ when someone says that they like chocolate bananas is not going to be nearly as funny. All of the sexual jokes are over. Viagra jokes, geyser jokes, those fat jokes you used to exchange, all off limits too. And all of that witty pseudo-sexual banter you used to have will not happen again without tears-a-flowin’.Fortunately for all you inner circle diddlers, as long as you give yourself distance after the hook up there can be hope for your friendship. Long time goodbyes, weddings, funerals, and reunions are all fair game to bump uglies because odds are you were drunk and the endorphins were flowing (excuses abound). The one situation in which the friend hook up is strictly forbidden is the post break up condolence. No one wants to be the rebound ass, and friends don’t let friends rub their dirty parts when they are at emotional lows.
You only live once, and it all looks the same in the dark. If you are willing to push a relationship to the limit, more power to you, but don’t come to me for a shoulder to cry on…you’ll wind up pounded poked and passed along.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Today’s story come’s from a friend of mine named ‘The Blond’. Disclaimer: I have taken some elements from other, similar stories and removed some crucial specifics from hers in the interest of protecting the innocent.
The blond has been dating a nice med student (McBoring) for close to six months. She and McBoring have steadily been progressing down the line to monogamy and were post DTR boyfriend and girlfriend. The Blond came to me last week with an issue that had been troubling her regarding the relationship: McBoring had ‘refused’ to update the relationship status of his Facebook profile to read that he was ‘in a relationship'. Then, in an even more traumatic disregard for decorum, McBoring de-tagged a photo of himself and The Blond from his profile.
Apparently these two egregious events were the final straw, effectively shattering the Camel’s spine. The Blond was driven to completely reevaluate the validity and future of her relationship with McBoring. Yes, what you read was correct. Actions based in a Virtual world were about to be the catalyst for real life decisions. A lack of Facebook transparency left The Blond seriously considering the termination of a successful and fruitful relationship (with a freaking doctor!). I know she had other reasons, but she was prepared to finally end it because of a perceived lack of deference to a virtual social network. This led me to my thesis for this post and the dtatement i have been know to proclaim in many a drunken bar argument:
FACEBOOK IS NOT REAL LIFE.
It’s really that simple. Elements of the Blond’s story demonstrate a phenomenon that has recently become a plague upon the millennial generation. Who cares that he didn’t put up that you were in a relationship in the virtual world?! He is actually in the relationship. Do you want to date this person virtually or actually? You know why virtual reality sucks? It’s because it’s not real! Well that, and the fact that everything VR looks all boxy and bright like the inside of a Kaleidoscope.
I feel like I'm taking crazy pills. Just because one’s friends can’t see your new boo's devotion to you on Facebook doesn’t mean that the man/woman isn’t out there everyday taking real bullets for you in the street. He de-tagged a photo? Who cares? Maybe he didn’t want his perspective employers seeing him ripping beer bongs filled with jello shots. Or, maybe the picture made you look homely and s/he was covering for the both of you. Nobody wants to be tagged to a significant other so ugly that you would have to tie a bone around their neck to get a dog to play with them.
The important theme is simple: Nothing people put up on those sites has any bearing in the real world. Why? Because FACEBOOK IS NOT REAL LIFE. It’s basically the world’s biggest ongoing masquerade party, and when we judge it as real life we are essentially scrutinizing the changes people have made to their costumes and holding them accountable for the actions of the character they trying to resemble.
Let’s not loose sight of what Facebook really is: It’s a tool. Like a cell phone, or Crack, Facebook gives us a means to organize our social lives. Not everyone is going to use their tool in the same way, nor are we all going to use our tools with the same frequency. A tool isn’t bad, but freaking out because someone else doesn’t use their tool as often as you would like is ridiculous (this is a very funny paragraph thus far, if you read it as a 12 year old would). Have you ever been involved in a conversation like this: “Who is that skank that poked you?”, or, “Why did that dude post a 'naughty gift' on your wall?” Really? Really?! What are you even arguing about anyway?
Maybe I’m a little out of touch…like John McCain not being able to use the Internet, but I think I need to make one final request of my generation: Let’s deal with the real, so if it’s artificial let it be. And for all you Facebook addicts who I know will be tripping balls over this heed these words or advice:
I've seen people caught in love like whirlwinds/
listening to they squads and listening to girlfriends/
that's exactly the point where they whole world ends/
lies come in, that's where that drama begins