Modern Romance…some More Observations

I have repeatedly devoted time and energy to thinking about dating in this modern world (see like like and like like revisited) because well, I am young and fairly privileged, so like Jane Austen, these sorts of matters take up a lot of my thought space. Anyway, recently I have begun to make some more observations. Thoughts about modern romance. What’s on my mind grapes:

1.) If you want to know if you are just a booty call or if it is something more get sick. Seriously, if you are not sure if what you have going on is a “booty call” or “something that is on the road to a relationship” just get sick.  Your partner’s reaction and behavior after finding out you are sick will clear everything up.  If it is a booty call then they will say “feel better” (if anything) and “call me when you feel better.”  If it is more they will  offer to come take care of you.  Soup, medicine, and company is a sign you are not in a booty call type arrangement with someone.

2.) If you want to know if you and your partner are compatible, don’t move in together. This shows nothing. Rather, go on a vacation together.  The stress of traveling will reveal everyone’s darker side.  If traveling is not an option. Go grocery shopping for a two pages of obscure goods in a supermarket that you are unfamiliar with for a dinner thing with guests that is happening in a few hours.  If you can make it through this without yelling at one another, fighting, or becoming a sarcastic prick then you two are compatible.

3.) Never ask “what are you thinking” unless you like being lied to. No one ever answers this question honestly so don’t even bother.

4.) This kind of goes with #3, but Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to. Ignorance is not bliss, but it is masochistic and stupid to throw a bowling ball up in the air knowing good and well it is going to come right back down on your head…it is a metaphor.

5.) There are three ways to know that things are getting serious (aside from the sick part). Two of them are obvious.

1.) is that they have a drawer with some sleep wear and a change of clothes (no walk of shame).

2.) They have things like a toothbrush or lotion at your place

The third is not so obvious…

3.) They have food they like in your refrigerator.

I am not sure what comes first.

What is Love

A Chemical Reaction/Chemical addiction that forces us to be chemically dependent on someone?

Is it a soul match? A Ying to your Yang?

Is it Straight up economics? Land Money and all that?

Is it Finding that Person that Truly understands You?

Is it a realization that you will never find anyone else who puts up with you always leaving your socks on the floor?

Or maybe it is looking over at the person next to you, and seeing them in running makeup, with breath that smells like stale beer, and hair that smells like Marlboro Red shampoo and seeing something beautiful (None of these options are mutually exclusive). If it is the latter then i think this song would be playing (wait for the CHORUS).

CLICK HERE: Bloc Party Sunday Junkie XL remix

“Like Like” Revisited and being Blunt

First here is a song by the Kills that I am obsessed with now.

Sometime in November I posted about the modern romantic phenomenon of not knowing what the hell is going on in a courtship and the super-abundance of gray area. Well last night while out with my friend “Lions” I was reminded of this post. He has been involved in this prolonged flirt courtship that is seeped in  sexual almosts, innuendo, and suggestion. Anyway he was talking about how he recently just bluntly asked this woman who has caught his eye what the score was.  I was a mix of things when he told me this.  I was a few parts shocked and a few parts excited, but mostly I was jealous of his daring disregard for modern romantic norms.  I mean he just asked and cleared the air. It was kinda of like seeing someone just solve a rubix cube in front of you.  He in a matter of minutes got an answer to a question.  He got a stock update, and is now able to move forward.

Well I am going to say, that I fully endorse this move, and I am going to say that we need to bring honesty back.  We need to apply the bluntness of crunk rap and punk music to our romantic lives.  We need to trade in our metaphors and our cryptic head nods for some simple declarative statements.   We need to start saying “hey, i think_______” and moving forward, instead of trying to play aloof, cool, and mute.  We need to take a tip from cnn and start getting a little romantic ticker that gives us some (honest) updates.  I mean think of how much more efficient our dating would become. Think about how much time, frustration, and agony spent misunderstanding or assuming could be skipped if we just said, “hey, it is obvious there is some flirtation going on here, but I don’t like you like that.” So lets try it. I mean, what do we have to lose? Things get awkward? Well, I think this type of awkward is nothing when compared to the kind of awkward the comes from making a move when it is unwanted.

Kissing bureaucracy

Here we are again. Introductions have happened. I have made you giggle. You have made me look deeply into the bottom of my glass as if to indicate in the most contrived way that I am bashful and fragile. I will keep asking questions and you will keep fielding them like you are sammy sosa. Over and over. You like collar bones. Or is it shoulder bones. See I cannot really remember because I have done this over and over. Not necessarily these same lines-well sometimes the same lines, but generally just the same thing, over and over. It is like the twenty-something formality before snogging. I ask some questions. Make some jokes. And we have at it. It is like some sick joke where you go to city hall and form after form is the same thing.
Cant we skip this? Cant we both just come to some mutual understanding of what will be the inevitable. Can’t we talk afterwards? I mean we are psuedo adults. We can have the ice cream first and our vegetables second? Cant we? Besides isnt all this kinda empty when it is on script the way it is now? Maybe not? Maybe we need this. Maybe there is nothing without the paper pushing. The bureaucracy of kissing. Kind of like how the DMV is nothing without mindless lines and waiting. Maybe it makes the kiss that much sweeter. Maybe it does, but it is still rediculous the way this goes on and on weekend after weekend. The questions and the routine all for a kiss. How cheap we are. Like dogs doing a trick for a treat.
Still I am kinda growing tired of this. Tired of the routine cause at this point I know where it will lead. I sometimes think to myself while leaning against some wall at a party, “really is this happening again.” I mean sure you are fit girl. Sure we hit it off, but are we headed down this tired old road again to the same old same old. I mean why get excited about the ball gown when it is the same old party?
So come kiss me darling and lets skip the barbra walter 20/20. I wil respect you in the morning. I will watch morning shows and even cook breakfast.And we can talk over eggs. Let just toss this fucking paperwork and get out of here. What do you say?

Feminism Killed my Game…but is that a bad thing?

First let me thank everyone who visited yesterday…now on to the post.

Today I attended a women at ____(insert college name) dinner. Per usual I sat with a table full of righteous women, dined on some tip top (free) cuisine, and had an opportunity to think about some pressing issues facing immigrant women in a north eastern state that is as white as a sitcom on NBC (the No Blacks Channel–ps Tracy Morgan and all of the black people featured on Law and Order do not count). All in all it was an ace event. Highly attended and provocative, and in addition to raising my consciousness about Somali women the event also inspired some thoughts about the day-to-day affects of feminism on me. Below is a cliffs notes version of what I came up with.

1.) I now look at porn and think…wow that is problematic. No eroticism. Just a potential essay–This holds true for most rap songs, rock songs, and hollywood movies .

2.) It Killed my “game.” You know the guys that flirt with rando girls, make the first move in a james dean kind of way, and suavely carry the lady out of her factory job? Well feminism inhibits me from being that guy. I can no longer just flirt with women, and I can no longer make the first move. I am instead a timid (but progressive) little bugger who does NOT assume that the gal is

a. heterosexual

b. interested in a romantic relationship

and c. the woman is incapable of making the first move…

So now I just do a lot of “is this ok…antioch college type moves.” (this does have its advantages though..like no assault charges)

4.) When I do go out on dates, I am thought of as cheap…why? well because I dont pay for their meals…true story one woman actually asked if I was cheap after I said I didnt want to pay for her meal in order to ensure power equality.

5.) I have the ability to make a contribution to any subject under discussion no matter how little I know about the topic…i.e. when in doubt I just ask the women question…where were the women, what was their status, what impact did they have, what was their relationship with other represented or discussed genders–bam you look insightful no matter what (important keywords are power, problematic, lens, intervention, hierarchy, patriarchy and a bunch of other archy’s).

Anyway, with all that said and done I have to say that I am all in all pretty content with feminism’s affects on me. Even though porn is out and I often fall into the romantic black hole known as the “friend zone,” I have a healthier outlook on women, a better relationship with my sister/mother, and more money in the bank because of it–going dutch has its advantages. So despite a few first kisses that took a little too long to happen, I am proudly and unabashedly a male identifying feminist…Still not voting for Clinton though.

The big day

One of the better known milestones of a romantic relationship is the day you meet your partner’s parents. In my case they sat me down on a couch across from them. Asked how I met their daughter. and then proceeded to tell me that they had googled me in order to make sure I had no skeletons in my closet. It was all very Mayberry generation Y.
However, there is another, equally important, romantic milestone that is not so widely discussed, and that is meeting your partner’s friends.
For a few months now you have been seeing each other. You go on dates, and cannot stop talking to your friends about her. You have become the guy/girl that leaves the party at midnight to call. The guy/girl that seems to weave your partner into every story ie “oh yeah _____ loves chunky monkey ice cream.” Still, your friends have yet to meet her. Sure they have seen her around, and have certainly facebook stalked her a bit, but there has yet to be a time when she just kicked it with your friends.
Well me and my partner passed such a milestone last night. Yeah it is kind of a big deal.
Four of us went to the movies cramped in my car which-though equipped with secret compartments and rave lights is the size of a tonka car. The whole thing started off on a very intimate note, but really I think the whole thing went pretty smoothly. Ace tunes, no awkward silences, rad movie (go see there will be blood NOW), and legend parking.
Still because of the close quarters I was not able to get her vibe until the end of the night, which makes me think…I really wish I knew sign language or at least some type of romantic morris code. Like I wish me and her could have had some covert check ins throughout the night. But alas I just had to keep glancing over trying to read the expressions on her face–and lets face it, i read women’s faces like Jordan Catallano reads books.
Fortunately though it went pretty well (i think). And now instead of leaving at midnight she can come meet up with me, and when I talk about Mr T’s new epic facial hair she will know exactly what I mean. Oh we have come a long way baby. All we need now is some top secret language.

Like, "Like like"

Recently, romantic angst has been the subject of a lot of conversations. Me and my coeds have been trying to make sense of a romantic culture that seems unreadable. After plenty of discussions with friends and a few reflections on my own experiences I have come to this conclusion:
We live in a romantically nebulous era where nothing is clear, there are no distinct steps or rules, and no clear end and beginning.

Formality has deteriorated and we exist in one giant shade of gray. We hang out with people, hook up with the people we hang out with, date friends, are friends with ex’s, and so much else without a clear formula or clear points of distinction.

Boys and girls are friends, boys and girls hug, boys and boys and girls and girls are friends, and they hug. They also kiss and hang out in scenarios that could be romantic, but what qualifies as “romantic” is never directly stated.

It is all up in the air, there are no lines, and romantic text is open to interpretation. While some may really cherish the post-modernism of all this, I, and many others, find it frustrating because it creates a system that tries to pretend there are no rules when romance is a concept wholly dependent on rules and lines.

How do we make sense of these interactions if we are so reluctant to even categorize them, or even talk about them. How are we suppose to decode when that friend hug is a more than a friend hug? How are we suppose to know when that kiss is more than a “whateva” kiss? How are we suppose to know when that hang out sesh is a date? In short, how the hell are we suppose to distinguish between when you like “like like” them and when you just “like” them?

Is it all intent? But if it is all intent then how do you convey your intent to the other party when it is so difficult to articulate how a friend hug and a non friend hug are different?
One person told me you just have to pay attention and look for one person to send a signal like looking into your eyes. But how are we suppose to know which pieces of the romantic text are still active and which are not. Plus, misreading a Like like for a like can land in you an awkward no friend zone, which kills me because that line just appears out of no where in a fog of gray.

Basically we have created a system that ultimately leads to our heartbreak and frustration because while we hate distinguishing between types of interactions we continue to hold people responsible when they do cross borders–even though these borders are not concrete. I guess I am just going to remain confused confused until we start following some kind of natural order. I like ambiguity, but can’t we have some kind of romantic handshake that says this is more. I like like you stupid?