Life is all about transitions. Just like all good leapfrogging technologies, I think I’m going to skip over the whole dating boys phase (because clearly, I think I’m a little late for that now) and jump right into the good stuff. I’m in India after all, the capital of leapfrogging.
That being said, I’ve realized that an integral part of any dating life (or potential/trying to move from imaginary dating life to a real one), is the whole analysis behind every single move ever made. Ever. Usually by close girl/guy friends. I would even venture to say that it’s a worldwide institution. And I find it absolutely endearing. I forgot how much I LOVE doing my part. “WHAT- she did NOT just do that to you. UGH! You’re too good for her.” “He said WHAT to you?? Oh hell no. That is NOT ok.” “You ended up with WHO LAST NIGHT?! OMG Details!” There is usually chai involved. It is wonderful.
Except maybe when it comes to analyzing my own. I found some great people to run play by plays with. And at first it was fun. But pretty soon (and by soon I mean 5 minutes) I realized…wow. This is sort of pointless. It’s like trying to play an unwinnable game. If you actually believe that you can figure another person out, I don’t think you’re giving the other person enough credit. I’ve decided that…there’s no such thing as signals. And if they are, I don’t think I’m going to try and figure them out, because then you’re stuck playing the unwinnable game again (and I usually try to only play games I can win).
I guess the past 2.5 years have taught me that there are SO many cool things out there, that ARE fun to hypothesize about. And my old life taught me that I love hanging out with close friends and just talking about life. Or bitching about life. Or I don’t know. Something cool. If I’m with them, pretty much anything is cool.
So I think to keep things simple, my dating life will look like this. I hang out with men. How can anyone tell if it’s a date? I don’t know. I’m not going to try and figure out what it means. My friends are not going to try and figure out what it means. Because nobody really knows what it means. And that’s ok. My life is kind of chaotic (and by kind of chaotic, I mean I don’t even know where I will be 3 days from now chaotic), so really who knows if we will ever be in the same city at the same time, and even if we are, god knows how long (I couldn’t tell you with any degree of certainty). But I figure if two people really want to see each other, they’ll make it happen. And if not, maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal anyway.
So really, I guess what I’m trying to say is that instead of spending time trying to play the unwinnable game, I’m going use that time to sit back and let life happen. There’s so much questioning/finding/searching/living/trying to take over the world-ing (my personal favorite) out there- I want to be doing that.
If you want to join/participate, let me know. Maybe we’ll make it happen.
But right now, I have a guy, a girl, and some chai waiting for me downstairs.
Life is pretty rad.
Thats whats up.
2 thoughts on “Boyz II Men (Dating and The Such)”
My take on dating is that it’s like a game of chicken. Two cars heading straight for each other, or, in this case, two people, both striving to “win” the date (the game IS winnable, I tell you!). If both are foolhardy and crazy enough to assert their full authority, even in the face of the other person doing the same, they will die. Okay, they probably won’t die (that would be an epically bad date). But the date will crash and burn and there will be no hookup, no relationship, and no more shared cups of chai (do people even do that? what happened to coodies?).
How does one win? By asserting themselves over all parts of the date. And not just the bill. My favorite tactic is to go ahead and order for the girl. I’ve been told they love that. “And the cheapest salad for you, with a triple shot of tequila”. It works 60% of the time. Every time. Another is just driving her to your house when she wants to go home. The slap afterwards means she’s all in, and that she has “swerved”. AKA I win. We score and end up in a long-term relationship shortly afterwards.
Okay, I concede that I may be confusing reality with some pretty real images I had in my head recently. (In my head, I’m always cool. I’ve also won a few Nobels, Pulitzers, and some once-in-a-lifetime STDs.). This also might explain why I’m still single. Regardless, long story short, the best signal is just singing “I’ll Make Love to You” (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fV8vB1BB2qc&feature=kp). Hey, it worked for Boyz II Men, so it’ll probably work for you too.
I feel like I read that in a Nobel Prize book somewhere. I KNEW that sounded familiar!
Jesus, why didn’t I realize you were so smart when I had the chance?! Ugh. I hate when I recognize the next big thing too late. You probably already have an agent and another book deal in the works
If not, have you thought of having me represent you? 60-40 split (Friend price, obviously).