-Absolutely Fabulous Memories

Have you ever tried to remember a movie line or a song lyric or that perfect sarcastic comeback, only to find that your mind draws a blank, your tongue fails you and that you have nothing to say at all. Then four days later you’re standing in the kitchen making noodles and then your memory kicks in and you end up with a slight case of turrets. My housemates were caught off guard when I yelled “yippy ki yay muthafucka” at my spaghetti. For the record the noodles did decide to clump together and be sticky. I find that these little brain farts have been occurring more and more since summer has started. I don’t want to say that I am off my game or even more flighty then usual, but I can’t seem to remember to memorize my thoughts. All the little things keep slipping through the cracks while the big topics are crashing down creating even more of them. Topics like love, heartbreak, family and confidence have rifled my last week so badly it would look like Swiss cheese. The ironic thing is that none of them were directly related to me, it feels as though the minute I forget to remember my life, my life is filled with living. I had already decided to lay low for the summer and try to regroup and prepare myself for the coming fall semester. My plan was to work hard and rest hard; I wanted to know what the dog days of summer were really like. I had intended to have a minimalist kind of summer, and so far its been busier then an Edina Monsoon outfit.

Being in the midst of all the activity and rushing makes you simultaneously learn and remember who you are and what you are made of. Lately I have been placed in situations where I seem to be the parental figure, both nurturing and instructing. Listening to what the problem is and figuring out the instigators, the actions, the results and the possible remedies to the event at hand. And let it be known that if I was standing in for the role of parent, the role of troublesome children was also filled. I might even say overflowing, but a parent never would admit to such a thing. In the eye of the shit storm, I had a strange brain fart, or I guess it would be more of an anti-brain fart. I remembered that I realized what I was doing; I knew how to caudle and caution, how to warn and wane, and how to heed and holler. I was doing all the grown up things I can barely do in my own life, for the lives of those around me. By forgetting to think about what I should be doing, I somehow remembered exactly what I need to be doing.

I think that things can get so cluttered sometimes and we can tend to over think and over analyze that we think it into something else. When you focus on something for too long it can just get bigger and bigger until it is the only thing that fits in your brain. But once you remember to forget about it, and think on something else, everything seems to be put into perspective. Your major isn’t really anything more then a couple words on a slip of paper. Your job is just an activity that helps you pay the bills and afford pizza and banana republic. Your relational title is just a social formality. Your goals and aspirations can change as often as the box office leader, so there is no point in remembering to think about it all the time. Being a nurse or an accountant or a marine or an English major isn’t who you are, it’s just what you think about. Who you are is what makes how you think, the ways in which you handle your situations.

When you don’t want to think about who you are, when you forget about it entirely and focus on everybody else, that seems to be when you really remember what you are made of. So remember to forget some things every once in a while.

-Let Me Give You My Card

Did you know that they actually do have cards you can hand out to people, informing them of your romantic interest. For months now I’ve been going on and on about my strong desire to be able to just hand out cards to those whom I find attractive. I was one bored afternoon and a label maker away from actually starting my own business. Think of how convenient it would be to just hand out a card instead of having to waste time with awkward questions and forced smiles. It would be so refreshing to skip the terrible guessing game when you try to figure out if they are interested or not. Sure it might seem a bit formal and slightly unromantic, but maybe it’s time to bring some order back to the full house of dating. People hand out all kinds of business cards. Dog walkers give cards out at the parks. Insurance agents give out cards when they see your smooshed car on the side of the highway. Lawyers give out their cards just to prove they are despicable people, I mean respectable people. So why shouldn’t we be able to hand out cards for romantic business. After all, Love Inc. is the parent company that owns everything else. I did forget to mention that so far these dating cards only seem to be available at clubs and bars, but isn’t that where all the great social trends start. Writing on your hands, paying too much for alcohol, being at a place where everybody knows your name. And don’t act like you didn’t just sing that last part in your head. So for now, the cards are only handed out at the club, but what happens when your hands are full of cards?

I’ve never really spent time or effort in trying to better my poker skills, but yet somehow I can manage my way through an evening of chip throwing, ante upping and raised bets. It’s not that I don’t know how to play the game; it’s just that I never thought it prudent to learn more tricks. I can definitely do more then just bluff my way through a hand, and sometimes I even have a method to my madness. But usually, most of the time, it’s just luck and happenstance. It seems that my poker skills are very, almost in an uncanny nature, similar to my dating skills. Sure I’m always ready to play the game, and I pay attention to what cards are dealt and who is doing the dealing, but I have a hard time trying to form a hand that wins. It’s tricky sometimes to figure out whether to stay or raise, or whether to put down or pick up. You have to consider whether you’ll get a matching pair or end up with nothing. Should you discard in hopes of getting a better hand, or do you just play it safe? Men, and women, are like playing cards; but it is impossible to figure out what will end up winning you the pot, or what will put you in heartbreak debt. Do two hearts have a chance of winning; is there any point in trying to get a full house?

I have learned however that bluffing will get you no where in the dating game, and I have a strong dislike towards those who use that tactic as a way of getting a winning hand. It’s hard enough to try and decide whether to place higher bets or just fold, and nothing is helped when lying comes into the equation. I guess in poker it isn’t called lying, but in relationships it is. There is no bluffing when dating. Alright fine, if you want to omit the fact that you had six fender benders in one year, or not confess that you still can’t spell the word xylowfone, that’s ok. But bluffing, or lying, about how many cards are in your deck or how many hands you still want to deal in your future, that’s not cool. The only response I have to that is: go spade yourself.

So when it comes to dating, and trying to determine whether to go all in, remember these playing tips: you don’t have to play every hand, the chips are going to fall where they may, and there is more to life then simply getting lucky.

-The Fast and The Failure

There are two types of fast when it comes to relationships: the slutty fast and the emotional fast. The slutty fast is, well, kind of not in need of a detailed-multi-layered-whipped-cream-topped-description. It pretty much means you single handily, or sometimes double handedly, make good use of mattress springs, are familiar with getting chocolate syrup off of yourself and keep baby oil makers in business. Most people know to avoid the slutty fast, but what people (and by people I mean me) don’t always have a grasp of is moving emotionally fast. At least when you act like a slut you can shower it off, but when you move emotionally fast you end up reeking of it for days. No amount of Acqua di Gio can mask the scent of an emotional streaker. And that’s what being emotional too quickly is like; taking everything off and running around bare, exposed. There is more then one kind of nudity in relationships: the kind where you expose your body and the kind where you expose your body of thought. When you’re dating it makes sense to show some skin and flex some muscle as quickly and as often as possible. But we aren’t supposed to show some sensitivity or flex some maturity until…until when? Just when exactly is it alright to let the other person know that you care not only about what their tongue can do, but what it is saying. Talking in relationships has such a negative connotation. The last time I used the phrase “actually, I think we should talk” while I was dating someone lead to an abrupt ending, which then lead to an abrupt six months of getting over said ending. What I learned from that was the importance of both sex and speaking; you shouldn’t have one without the other. And you shouldn’t do either one fast. But when body language becomes more reliable then the English language, the conversation and the relationship can become flaccid.

They say that men have a certain amount of words that they are able to use in one day. If they reach their limit before the day is up then they open a beer, sit on the couch and turn on the game. It doesn’t really matter what kind of game it is, just as long as it can be titled a game. And with several types of ESPN available, versions 1 and 2, classic, college, retro, metro, supersized and bedazzled, there is almost always a game to be had for quiet viewing pleasure. But in relationships you want to avoid quiet times, which mean you have to talk with more then just your torso. Real conversations need to be had so that the relationship has a chance of being real, otherwise you end up licking pudding off a semi stranger that you can’t remember the last name of. That previous sentence was totally just hypothetical.

So how do you talk about wanting to talk without making it sound like you’re having the talk, I have not figured it out yet. I’ve talked my way out of many a situation, but I still dread the idea of trying to dig myself out of that conversational hole. If you try to discuss the relationship too soon, it gets dirty. If you wait too long, by then the only conversations your having is dirty talk. But there does seem to be a linguistic catch-22 about it all. If you’re only fluent in body language, the relationship doesn’t last too long. If you’re familiar with the English language, you’re usually familiar with failed relationships. Talk too little, get a limp relationship. Talk too often, end up with a limp dick. Since when did showing someone you cared about them become such a turn off? Have we become such a concrete, independent, self sufficient society that we no longer consider compassion to be charming? I feel as if we should take a minute and talk about….oh wait.