Wednesday, November 07, 2012

An age-old question...


Can men and women actually be just friends?


The number of times I’ve been asked this question, asked it myself, seen movies about it…it’s staggering, really. We can figure out how to get a self-portrait taken by a robot on freaking Mars, but this issue stumps us? Mars=less confusing than inter-gender relationships. Great. 

There’s no clear answer, of course, since relationships are like snowflakes. (They’re all individual and special and all that garbage. Also they’re cold and fleeting and fill people with a false sense of nostalgia, until suddenly there are too many and the weight of them is crushing and oppressive.)

Wait, what were we talking about?

Right. Men and women. There are those who champion the sexless friendship, saying oh but of course men and women can be friends without attraction and relationships getting in the way! Those people…are naïve. Sorry. (Sorry you’ve been lying to yourself, that is.) There are also people who say absolutely not, men and women always want to bang no matter what the situation so you’re not just friends, you’re either people who used to screw or people who haven’t screwed yet. Those people are creepy and not really friends with anyone of the opposite gender. They also probably need to get laid. (Just saying. The truth hurts.) What I’ve always believed is that it takes all kinds. Sure, I have friends that I’m attracted to. (No…not you.) I have friends who are attracted to me, or have been in the past. (I know who you are.) But then there are some friendships that are and will always be platonic. And I’m not fooling myself. I’m 100% confident.

There’s no right answer here. But some researchers from The University of Wisconsin-Eau Claire wanted some kind of answer, at least. They took 88 pairs of opposite sex friends from the undergraduate population and asked them some questions about their relationship. They asked if there was attraction. They asked if these kids wanted to bang. But they realized, hey, this is the kind of information that ruins friendships! This could be an unmitigated disaster! (See: My Ex Boyfriend.) So they asked them separately of each other, and kept it all anonymous. They also had the pairs verbally state, in front of each other, that they wouldn’t talk about it later. BECAUSE OF COURSE THEY WON’T BE TEMPTED TO DO THAT. At least the researchers are off the hook if things get awkward, though. “HEY, you pinky swore that you wouldn’t talk about it! We heard you! No take backs!”

Anyway, the researchers found out some pretty interesting information. It’s not really shocking, groundbreaking stuff, but it’s interesting all the same. Turns out, lots of the guys were attracted to their female friend and thought it was reciprocal, and lots of the women thought their male friend was “just a friend”…and weren’t attracted to them. Turns out…guys are delusional and women are in denial. Good job, straight people.

Here’s the saving grace for these friendships: we are blissfully unaware of this huge difference, it would seem. So, for my hetero friends out there…yes, he’s attracted to you and no, she doesn’t feel the same way. Let the awkward friendships live on! Please don’t get too drunk and destroy the delicate balance you’ve found.

Monday, October 29, 2012

Disorganized Ranting

Before I being today's rant, let me just tell you the source I'm working from here: Huffington Post. I don't get my news there, but they are quick to post cat pictures and the latest "Call Me Maybe" to go viral. (I know, I know...you guys the "Call Me Maybe" thing is a serious problem for me but I can't and won't apologize. I love it too much. My itunes most played list reflects that. That's a story for another day.) Sometimes I flip through the Huff Post twitter feed.

Let's talk about a couple articles they posted recently. I found one that was about things men hate to see in women's homes. Ok, I thought, I'll bite. What things do men hate? Turns out, it was posted as a response to, naturally, things that turn women off about where men live.

For that list, female editors around Huffington Post were asked about the stuff they see in guy's places that grosses them out. A lot of it was pretty basic: dirty dishes in the sink, mousetraps, bugs, no toilet paper, no towel in the bathroom. I'll go with most of those things. Although I didn't think most of them were specific to ladies visiting a guy. I don't care where I am, if there isn't a place to dry my hands except a still-damp bath towel that I'm pretty someone used to dry their ass? I'm not feeling terribly welcome. Some of them were also silly and very specific, clearly a woman with one horrible experience who has been taking it out on guys ever since. (Seriously, these women cited lava lamps as turn offs.) Some items were more a reflection on the guy and what you're looking for in a relationship. For me, I'm not offended by cheap Ikea coffee tables. I'm still in a fairly transient part of my life. My friends move a lot. They move across the country a lot. We're in our 20s--Ikea was made for us. Another woman said she's turned off by a guy with no books around. AND I CAN GET BEHIND THAT. Does anyone else remember that episode of Cribs where Moby was sad that celebrities don't have books? So he showed off his collection? We have the same version of The Hobbit. Do any of you remember Cribs? Am I too old now? Do you want to talk more about my nerd books? Or would you prefer we focus on Reasons Amanda is Single? Your choice! 

WE ARE GETTING OFF TOPIC. 

I'm not saying this list was ok, but some of it was reasonable. 

So then I read the list where guys tell us what sucks in our houses, ladies. In this appropriately scientific study, the staff at Huff Post "asked around" and found out some stuff that turns guys off. They don't even cite which guys. Despite this shady foundation, I pressed ahead. 

So here, ladies of the internet, are some of the things we need to ditch ASAP if we hope to snag a man. Just like the other list, some of it made sense. Guys hate hair in the sink--interestingly, this also made the other list. Looks like we all need to clean our disgusting sinks. Photos of your ex seemed like a no-brainer to me, but apparently enough women are keeping these around that guys brought it up. Get rid of those. It's more healthy anyway. BUT THE REST OF THE LIST. Oh man. 

The rest of the list reads like an adolescent boy who is still afraid of girls. Cats. "Fancy" cups. Tampons. Stuffed animals. (Actually...this one depends on their location, prominence in the home, and quantity. Fair point dudes.) Blankets on your bed. TAMPONS. Guys, what the hell is a fancy cup? Like a teacup? Even if I have other, more masculine cups to offer you? I can't drink my tea out of something nice? Also, cats? Really? An animal? REALLY? Maybe if some lady is dressing it up and the cat has a vlog and she talks to it in a baby voice and it consumes her life. But telling women that cats turn you off not only sounds ridiculous but THE JOKES I AM HOLDING BACK ARE TOO MUCH TO TAKE. And tampons...I can't even start on this one. 

WOMEN OF THE WORLD: hide your tampons! None of us will find a man if we leave those lying around our own homes as if we live there or something! Just because we need them doesn't mean men have to know about them! Shield their delicate sensibilities! I hope you have a fainting couch ready if he spots them because oh my, will you have some explaining to do then! We have to find men to trick into marrying us! HE CAN'T KNOW ABOUT TAMPONS UNTIL YOU HAVE A RING ON YOUR FINGER. 

You guys, I need to stay off Huffington Post. Life lessons. 


Wednesday, October 10, 2012

This is my face.

Guys, I didn't feel like typing tonight--felt like a chat instead. Don't worry, I'll get back to typing next time. 

Let's talk about marriage. Oh my. 


Saturday, October 06, 2012

But not a spoonful of sugar.

In light of a frustrating trip to CVS last week, I cleaned out my purse today. Not my wallet...my whole purse. Every little pocket. (And I love little pockets.) There was the usual: wallet, pen, keys, mints. However, in addition to the things you're generally supposed to have in a purse as large as mine, here's a partial list of what I found. 

  • a bird finger puppet
  • coins from Brazil, Norway, Bulgaria*, Canada, and a German euro**
  • a seashell
  • a Tinkerbell charm which I believe fell off a keychain some years ago
  • notes I wrote after seeing a psychic
  • three coffee sleeves (Starbucks, Tim Horton's, Biggby)
  • two separate bets made with friends..."Amanda, you keep this because you won't lose it" YOU ARE CORRECT
  • a stray ribbon
  • a playing card from when I lived in Ireland
  • a diamond ring party favor
  • an allen wrench
  • a temporary tattoo from the Peter Pan bus line
  • a fortune telling fish
  • a venn diagram that Twin drew for me at the bar one night ***(see below for reproduction)
  • a coupon for a free pretzel from the mall (!!)
  • a shocking number of hair pins and safety pins and paperclips and band-aids and one of those coffee cup stoppers
  • five (FIVE) different lip products
  • ZERO CVS CARDS
I'll let you decide what all THAT says about me as human being/future hoarder/Mary Poppins-Little Mermaid hybrid. Look at this stuff, isn't it neat? 
I removed the ribbon, which will likely end up being the only damn item on the list I'll wish I had. 

Except that CVS card. I'll definitely keep wanting that. Sigh. 



*Yeah, Bulgaria is working on adopting the euro...so I won't even be able to use it. 
**Also, I haven't even been to most of those countries.

***figure A

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Ye Olde Blogge Poste

Last week I went to the Renaissance Festival. That might sound really dorky if you don't happen to live in Michigan or have one near you. Actually...it sounds really dorky even if you're familiar with the Ren Fest. But let me clarify: I attended the Ren Fest. I patronized it. I did not participate in the whole costume-accent-Medieval vernacular sense. Some friends and I hung out for the day.

I have a soft spot for the Renaissance Festival. I think it's fun and quirky and ohhh my the people watching. It's top notch people watching. You see things that you cannot unsee. I think one of the biggest reasons I sort of enjoy going is that in retrospect, I can trace my questionable decision making back to that grove of trees. Sometime during my high school years, I found myself wandering around there with a couple of my best friends. That day, in the hot August sun, I flirted with a strange boy for the first time ever. He was wearing a kilt, had a great smile, I didn't know his name, and I wrote my phone number on a dollar bill he pulled out of his...satchel. Pouch. Whatever you call the bags they wear on a kilt.** My friends shook their heads as we walked away. They sighed the couple times we crossed paths that day and he winked at me. (Seriously. A teenager in a kilt winked at me.) He didn't call, of course. He was never going to call, and I probably knew that. I don't know what I would have done if he DID call. But that very sketchy decision was fun and he was really cute. (A sentence I find myself saying pretty regularly, let's be honest.)

Interesting choices and douchebags aside, I think it's a great place. It's an outlet for people to be as weird as they want. (Weird being relative, I realize, but I'm talking mainstream society here.) I love the idea that there were so many people who loved making their own chainmail and carrying swords that they were like, "You know what? Let's go find some dusty wooded area to hang out in and eat some turkey legs. Ale, anybody?" It's fascinating. A secret little world where I was the weirdo, in jeans. There's a whole other set of social norms, and it's awesome. For heaven's sake, a guy in a cape tipped his hat at me and called me "m'lady." (I ignored him because even though it's kind of a boost to be blatantly checked out, I've been there and done that--no phone numbers on dollar bills this year, my friends.) 

However...no judging or anything, ladies and gentlemen, but...just because you can wear a chainmail bikini top or a corset that squishes your boobs up to your neck...doesn't mean you necessarily should. Fun fact. 


**EDIT: A friend informs me that the kilt bag is called a sporran. She credits her Scottish heritage for that innate knowledge. 

Friday, September 14, 2012

Interruption.

Hey you. If you've seen a TV, read a newspaper, or looked at the internet recently, you know there is an election coming up. It's kind of a big deal. And it's in less than two months. 

I'm not here to tell you about my vote or why I'll be casting it a certain way. I'm here to tell you that you should be voting. I don't care who you vote for--but go vote. Decisions are made by the people who show up...so be a responsible adult for once and go help make the decision. It will certainly be better than posting another status update about your boyfriend or ignoring the text messages from that girl you met. 

Not sure where to get started? Make sure you're registered--try here--and if you're not, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? 

Tuesday, September 04, 2012

Adventures in Online Dating

You've heard me mention my twin, right? In case you're new to the party and are sitting there like, "Whoa, Bitter has a twin?? There are two of her? This gives me mixed emotions."...let me fill you in. First of all, you're probably smart to be concerned that there are two of me, but have no fear because Twin is a good foil for me in a lot of ways. Believe it or not, a lot of my bad ideas are the ones that made it past her filter. There are a lot of ideas that she stops at the gate. (You don't even want to know.) She's also the single most awesome person I know. 

You're caught up. 

Twin took herself out of the dating game for a long time, which we are all happy to blame on the Disgusting Troll Ex-Boyfriend of a few years ago. She decided to be brave recently, and also to get all of us off her back about it, and started online dating. She has quickly learned that many of the guys there are duds. Boring messages, overly philosophical messages, creepy messages. But one guy seemed cool! Nice! Friendly! Interesting! They chatted, they texted, they set up a date! We were proud of her! Good for you, getting back in the game! 

But I'm her twin. HER TWIN. I'm not about to let her end up on the evening news. "Local Artist Found in Area Man's Basement." Nope. Not happening. He may sound nice, but he's still a guy you met on the internet. Let's not go crazy. A friend and I went undercover and had dinner near the coffee shop where they met. We also tried to locate them from the roof of the parking garage. Everything checked out.



When Twin called me an hour into their date and was escaping, I was a little confused. An hour? That seemed a bit short. We met for ice cream and a debrief. As Twin and This Guy walked around, they passed a bondage store and he asked if she was into that. She said no, thinking that was a rather personal question for date one. "Ok," he said. "I am." 

Well alright then. This Guy is into bondage. That's a lot of information to get about someone you just met. Half an hour ago. Then he somehow works into the conversation that he used to date a stripper. (Attention guys: We don't really want to hear about your exes on the first date. ESPECIALLY THE STRIPPERS YOU DATED.) As if that wasn't enough information about his past, This Guy mentions that she also made porn. Oh, and HE WAS IN A PORN WITH HER ONCE. (It was at this point in her story that I choked on my ice cream. Did not see that coming.) The guy making these asked him because he's "big." 

Just to recap, in case your head is spinning from Overshare Syndrome, Twin met this guy for coffee, then before the cups were empty learned that he was into bondage, dated a stripper, and made a porn with her because he has a huge penis. 

WELL OK THEN. Twin was, let's say, a little surprised that he'd shared so much. When he invited her back to his place after an hour, she decided to make an exit. Guys, you have to leave ladies wanting more. Keep a little mystery in the relationship. Talking about sex on the first date is risky. This time, it didn't pay off for Porn Star. It's not quite like telling your date you're into chicken fajitas. 

My sister dated a porn star. It's actually a really fun sentence to say.