if breakups weren't hard enough. on top of returning each others belongings, divvying up friends as if they were mutual equity, and the fear of running into each other without warning (or makeup on for that matter), there's now the dreaded dilemma whether or not to remain friends... on facebook.
i've seen it go many ways, and am still undecided as to the best approach. some might think it's petty, some might think it's a non-issue, but seeing as though social media gets me a pay check every other week, i think it's something worth paying attention to. whether you want to admit it or not, facebook plays a large part in relationships in this day and age. case in point: this horribly amazing breakup.
we live in a world in which we're now slaves to an algorithm that decides what's important to us. that's a risky little game to play when avoiding any mention of your ex's name, let alone see his/her face all up in your newsfeed.
but wait a second, you can totally handle it because you're for sure winning this breakup.
don't act like you haven't been there. every breakup has a winner or a loser, whether you're willing to admit it or not. there's someone that always comes out on top. often times it's subtle, but it's apparent nonetheless. regardless, you can't show any signs of weakness either way, so you avoid clicking that fateful little link: unfriend. you stare at it until you've entered a cyber mexican standoff. there's just so much at stake here. it's more than pride. it's a matter of life and death.
ok, maybe that's a bit hyperbolic.
but it really is a lose-lose situation. if you're the first one to end the "friendship," you're outwardly admitting your inability to emotionally handle the breakup. however, if you don't, you're constantly reminded your ex's life does indeed go on without you, even if you wish misery upon them with every fiber of your being. neither one of those outcomes is ideal. especially when the wound is at its freshest.
but what about once both parties have "moved on?"
a gal pal of mine just went through a situation in which her exboyfriend of a few months randomly de-friended her out of the blue. after many a "wtf!?!?!" and "omg what an ass! is he for real?!" we decided to put our heads together and get down to the bottom of this completely asinine circumstance. is it really necessary to absolve the relationship on facebook after everyone is supposedly back on their feet? why now? what could possibly have triggered this?
it turns my gal pal's exboyfriend had actually gotten into a new relationship almost instantaneously after their breakup (what a douche). but as we got to thinking we realized it must have been his (heinous) new girlfriend who was the brains behind this de-friending operation.
there really isn't any other logical explanation as to why we came to this conclusion other than: girls are crazy. i hate to generalize, but i really wouldn't put it passed a member of my species to do such a thing. hell, who hasn't logged on to someone else's facebook and snooped around a bit? you're lying if you say you've never partaken in this activity. lisa, i'm looking at you.
dating in this day and age is completely ambiguous. between facebook, texting, email, IM, twitter, skype and all of the other countless means of communications out there (notice i didn't mention the phone? who calls people these days anyways?), it's getting harder and harder to define relationships. chill out fellow commitment-phoebes, by relationship i of course mean texting consistently and hooking up on the weekends. that sound more like it?
it's hard not to hate the social media channels; blame them for ruining our lives and providing even more grey lines for us to tip toe around. so, if you are going to de-friend an ex, tread lightly. stalking can be just as addictive as any drug, and next thing you know you're begging a friend, one who will judge you the least, for their facbeook login. i guess we all have our vices.
but you wouldn't know anything about that, because you're for sure #winning.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Saturday, March 3, 2012
what to do when you find out one of your guy friends made out with a lesbian.
it's not often of an occasion, hearing one of your male friends made out with a gal who favors the same sex. well, let me rephrase that. i wouldn't put it past someone like my friend steve - he definitely has enough swagger to pull that one off. but in this instance, i heard the news and could hardly contain my laughter. call me a bitch, but i love any opportunity i can get to harass this particular pal of mine. let's call him jim, for the sake of argument. and the girl he made out with, sarah.
now, my first time hearing of this wasn't from jim himself, which makes it just that much better. learning of it second-hand allowed me to conjure up a multitude of mental images as to how i interpreted the event to transpire. i now realize, upon hearing the accurate rendition of the night, my version of the story was completely far from the truth. however, i still like to pretend this is what happened:
picture a guy. not too tall, not too short. a handsome fellow. with a goofy, yet charming, personality. that's jim.
now, picture a gal. on the shorter side. a bit stocky. most likely wearing black lace-up combat boots of some sort. probably sporting a spiky hair cut. that's sarah. *note: i have nothing against lesbians. in fact, i fully support homosexuality. but just as there are ugly straight people, there are ugly lesbians, too.
it was a charity event. jim had been looking forward to the open bar the entire week and even put on a cummerbund and bow tie for the occasion. he happened to be in attendance with some mutual friends, all of them couples. being the odd man out, jim saw this as prime opportunity to pick up some chicks.
the night consisted of teeny tiny finger foods and many, MANY, grey goose martinis. as the end of the night drew near, jim was feeling more confident than ever. struttin' around the room, sporting his booze goggles, he spotted her. looking around, he noticed all his friends were preoccupied with their significant others. it was a solo mission, and he was ready. he ordered another drink at the bar, and walked over to sarah.
their conversation started off as any normal pithy dialogue would upon meeting someone under the influence. "what do you do? where do you live? what brings you here tonight? are those doc martins?" apparently that was enough for sarah, as she grabbed jim's face and started making out with him.
totally appropriate for a black-tie open bar cocktail party, mind you.
and then, she was gone. the ninja fade, as i like to call it. most likely realizing the ramifications of her actions. or maybe she was butch-cinderella. the world will never know. jim went home, alone, slice of pizza in his hand as he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of his mystery lesbian.
unfortunately, all of the above is just the inner workings of my childish mind. the real story goes nothing like that.
if you want to know, you'll just have to ask jim.
the night consisted of teeny tiny finger foods and many, MANY, grey goose martinis. as the end of the night drew near, jim was feeling more confident than ever. struttin' around the room, sporting his booze goggles, he spotted her. looking around, he noticed all his friends were preoccupied with their significant others. it was a solo mission, and he was ready. he ordered another drink at the bar, and walked over to sarah.
their conversation started off as any normal pithy dialogue would upon meeting someone under the influence. "what do you do? where do you live? what brings you here tonight? are those doc martins?" apparently that was enough for sarah, as she grabbed jim's face and started making out with him.
totally appropriate for a black-tie open bar cocktail party, mind you.
and then, she was gone. the ninja fade, as i like to call it. most likely realizing the ramifications of her actions. or maybe she was butch-cinderella. the world will never know. jim went home, alone, slice of pizza in his hand as he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of his mystery lesbian.
unfortunately, all of the above is just the inner workings of my childish mind. the real story goes nothing like that.
if you want to know, you'll just have to ask jim.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
forever an unanswered question.
question: can a man and a woman be friends, without sex getting in the way?
never has any question in the history of mankind been more debated (ok, aside from "what came first the chicken or the egg?"). for decades, scholars, film-makers and average joes have been desperately attempting to solve this universal mystery. you'd think it would be simple enough, upholding a platonic relationship with the opposite sex. now, you'll have to understand, this is coming from someone who prefers friendships with males (women are terrible creatures by nature, as there are only a select few that don't make me want to create a mama-shaped hole in a wall). and although i haven't been known (for the most part) to create any grey lines with my dearest dude friends, the question always remains: is there really such thing as a strictly platonic relationship, void of any sexual desire, between the sexes?
instead of diving into the messy web of either side of the argument diplomatically, i'd prefer to stir the pot a bit by telling two stories.
note: in order to salvage any form of a reputation these characters (fact or fiction) might have, i'll spare the details of anyone's real names to conceal their true identity.
story #1: a friendship emerged between a guy, jack, and a gal, jill (no, not the OG nursery rhyme folk - this is sheer coincidence). jack and jill met in college, after the realization they shared three mutual classes. there was an instantaneous connection, and their relationship escalated quickly. what started out as simply saving seats to ensure they sit together in each lecture hall grew to daily hangouts, with an abundance of inside jokes and almost constant consistent communication (read: incessant text messaging). it wasn't long before the two were officially best friends. things went along status quo for a few months, or forever in the life of a student, until the relationship began to evolve physically. a cuddle here, a nap together there, and then, you guessed it, paradise by the dashboard lights. however, it wasn't long before factors that were never issues previously had started to rear their ugly heads: jealousy, obsession, confusion, anger, disappointment. it was a slow and painful downhill tumble for jill after the fact, as not all gals have the ability to remove their feelings from the equation. unfortunately, jill was unable to maintain those expectations accordingly. and thus, their friendship ended abruptly. and now jill lives in a van down by the river
... i kid.
story #2: mutual friends brought ricky and samantha together. it wasn't necessarily friendship at first sight, but the more time they spent together, the more they realized and appreciated their shared sense of humor and blunt personalities. their interaction mainly consisted of hungover sundays on his couch, discussions of sexcapades and beligerent conquests from the night before and the occasional gchat to share gut-wrenchingly hilarious youtube videos. it was a random saturday night on the town that shifted their relationship into 4th gear. i believe the interaction went something like this:
ricky: you know what, samantha, we're going to sleep together eventually.
samantha: i mean, fine, but NO ONE can find out and you can't get weird about it.
ricky: YOU can't get weird about it. things stay the same. if you have to poop in the morning, then poop. let's hook up in the bar's kitchen.
samantha: good. things stay the same. but we are NOT hooking up in that kitchen.
i'll leave the details of what transpired that evening to your imagination (although, some say it felt as if an earthquake was taking place, but that's just speculation). the next morning, staying true to their pact, ricky and samantha woke up and never skipped a beat. no awkwardness. no feelings. just friends.
and thus are the two sides of this never ending debate. i'm unsure whether or not there will ever be a concrete answer, as there are always extenuating circumstances and outliers that throw a stick in everyone's spokes. but i will say this: believing the answer to be "yes" is exponentially more fun.
not that i'd know from experience.
never has any question in the history of mankind been more debated (ok, aside from "what came first the chicken or the egg?"). for decades, scholars, film-makers and average joes have been desperately attempting to solve this universal mystery. you'd think it would be simple enough, upholding a platonic relationship with the opposite sex. now, you'll have to understand, this is coming from someone who prefers friendships with males (women are terrible creatures by nature, as there are only a select few that don't make me want to create a mama-shaped hole in a wall). and although i haven't been known (for the most part) to create any grey lines with my dearest dude friends, the question always remains: is there really such thing as a strictly platonic relationship, void of any sexual desire, between the sexes?
instead of diving into the messy web of either side of the argument diplomatically, i'd prefer to stir the pot a bit by telling two stories.
note: in order to salvage any form of a reputation these characters (fact or fiction) might have, i'll spare the details of anyone's real names to conceal their true identity.
story #1: a friendship emerged between a guy, jack, and a gal, jill (no, not the OG nursery rhyme folk - this is sheer coincidence). jack and jill met in college, after the realization they shared three mutual classes. there was an instantaneous connection, and their relationship escalated quickly. what started out as simply saving seats to ensure they sit together in each lecture hall grew to daily hangouts, with an abundance of inside jokes and almost constant consistent communication (read: incessant text messaging). it wasn't long before the two were officially best friends. things went along status quo for a few months, or forever in the life of a student, until the relationship began to evolve physically. a cuddle here, a nap together there, and then, you guessed it, paradise by the dashboard lights. however, it wasn't long before factors that were never issues previously had started to rear their ugly heads: jealousy, obsession, confusion, anger, disappointment. it was a slow and painful downhill tumble for jill after the fact, as not all gals have the ability to remove their feelings from the equation. unfortunately, jill was unable to maintain those expectations accordingly. and thus, their friendship ended abruptly. and now jill lives in a van down by the river
... i kid.
story #2: mutual friends brought ricky and samantha together. it wasn't necessarily friendship at first sight, but the more time they spent together, the more they realized and appreciated their shared sense of humor and blunt personalities. their interaction mainly consisted of hungover sundays on his couch, discussions of sexcapades and beligerent conquests from the night before and the occasional gchat to share gut-wrenchingly hilarious youtube videos. it was a random saturday night on the town that shifted their relationship into 4th gear. i believe the interaction went something like this:
ricky: you know what, samantha, we're going to sleep together eventually.
samantha: i mean, fine, but NO ONE can find out and you can't get weird about it.
ricky: YOU can't get weird about it. things stay the same. if you have to poop in the morning, then poop. let's hook up in the bar's kitchen.
samantha: good. things stay the same. but we are NOT hooking up in that kitchen.
i'll leave the details of what transpired that evening to your imagination (although, some say it felt as if an earthquake was taking place, but that's just speculation). the next morning, staying true to their pact, ricky and samantha woke up and never skipped a beat. no awkwardness. no feelings. just friends.
and thus are the two sides of this never ending debate. i'm unsure whether or not there will ever be a concrete answer, as there are always extenuating circumstances and outliers that throw a stick in everyone's spokes. but i will say this: believing the answer to be "yes" is exponentially more fun.
not that i'd know from experience.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
the end of my freshman year(s) of life.
first, let me start of by providing a few definitions.
freshman year(s) of life, noun: of, or referring to, the years preceding college when twenty-somethings are supposed to be acclimated into the "real world," but are still struggling with managing and maintaining their binge drinking, college partying and terrible decision-making tendencies.
real world, noun: pertaining to life after college, or what is perceived to be the life of an "adult" (and I use that term loosely).
rage, verb: the act of extreme, take-it-to-obscene-levels, partying.
adult, noun: who the fuck knows what it means to be an adult.
i hate to admit the aforementioned language has been my prime vocabulary over the last four years. i thought upon entering the real world, i'd turn into an adult magically overnight.
oh, was i mistaken.
my routine since leaving college has been a lather-rinse-repeat of one rage-fest after another, sprinkled with a few new anecdotes:
and thus has been my freshman year(s) of life. i'm going to assume most people can get away with one, maybe two, years living their life as such. i'm not quite sure how i managed to survive four years of these shenanigans. but here i am, on the cusp of my twenty-sixth year of life on this earth, in one of the most amazing cities in the world, and i find myself at a crossroad. much like robert frost, although i'd like to think i'm much better looking than he, i too see two paths before me. do i continue down this road of whatever the hell this is that i'm doing? albeit fun, i'm convinced it's slightly masochistic and ultimately self-destructive. or do i try to be an actual adult, and participate in adult-like activities?
i'm not trying to get too philosophical, but let's say, for the sake of argument, i were to wake up on a saturday void of the pounding hangover headache, no crusty make-up lingering from the night before, and without the stiff neck from passing out in what could only be described as some form of a pretzel. is that what happens in real life?
just some food for thought, as i can't help but wonder with my day of birth rounding the corner in a few weeks, what will become of my existence post-freshman year(s) of life.
all i know is it's gotten me to this point. apparently i'm a blogger as an adult. who knew?
but really now... can someone please get me a glass of wine?
freshman year(s) of life, noun: of, or referring to, the years preceding college when twenty-somethings are supposed to be acclimated into the "real world," but are still struggling with managing and maintaining their binge drinking, college partying and terrible decision-making tendencies.
real world, noun: pertaining to life after college, or what is perceived to be the life of an "adult" (and I use that term loosely).
rage, verb: the act of extreme, take-it-to-obscene-levels, partying.
adult, noun: who the fuck knows what it means to be an adult.
i hate to admit the aforementioned language has been my prime vocabulary over the last four years. i thought upon entering the real world, i'd turn into an adult magically overnight.
oh, was i mistaken.
my routine since leaving college has been a lather-rinse-repeat of one rage-fest after another, sprinkled with a few new anecdotes:
- the responsibility of upholding a profession - "what do you mean i have to do this every day? i upheld a strict do-not-plan-anything-before-1p.m. policy for the last 4 years, and now you're telling me i have to be in the office for an 8 a.m. meeting? ON A FRIDAY. how am i supposed to go out thursday night? wait... can i at least break for naps?"
- paying bills - "hold on. mom, dad, you're not paying for my rent and utilities anymore? woah, woah, woah. when did this happen? i know i have an income now, but its predominantly to be spent supporting my drinking habits."
- meeting new people - "but. i have friends. and they're AWESOME. who is this scrub trying to shake my hand right now? is she really wearing her hair like that? what is that top? don't even talk to me anymore."
and thus has been my freshman year(s) of life. i'm going to assume most people can get away with one, maybe two, years living their life as such. i'm not quite sure how i managed to survive four years of these shenanigans. but here i am, on the cusp of my twenty-sixth year of life on this earth, in one of the most amazing cities in the world, and i find myself at a crossroad. much like robert frost, although i'd like to think i'm much better looking than he, i too see two paths before me. do i continue down this road of whatever the hell this is that i'm doing? albeit fun, i'm convinced it's slightly masochistic and ultimately self-destructive. or do i try to be an actual adult, and participate in adult-like activities?
i'm not trying to get too philosophical, but let's say, for the sake of argument, i were to wake up on a saturday void of the pounding hangover headache, no crusty make-up lingering from the night before, and without the stiff neck from passing out in what could only be described as some form of a pretzel. is that what happens in real life?
just some food for thought, as i can't help but wonder with my day of birth rounding the corner in a few weeks, what will become of my existence post-freshman year(s) of life.
all i know is it's gotten me to this point. apparently i'm a blogger as an adult. who knew?
but really now... can someone please get me a glass of wine?
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