When I was in high school and college it seemed like every girl was on the pill, even the ones who weren’t have sex. Most women are familiar with some of the believed benefits of the pill. Unfortunately there’s a decent number of dudes out there who are content with simply not getting a girl pregnant. The fact is guys, beyond reducing the chances of getting pregnant, the pill regulates and sometimes abbreviates a woman’s period, some pills give them clearer skin, most make them less moody, I even dated a girl who liked being on the pill because it made her boobs bigger. And let me tell you, she didn’t have breasts so much as two perfect, beautiful dreams on her chest. 
But I digress…
On this Valentine’s Day, will you be mine?
No?
Then don’t. I don’t care. It’s a Hallmark Holiday anyway.
Bitch.
Here’s a tune from Old 97’s to go with your Russell Stover’s for one.
I tried to watch the Grammys last night. Honest, I did. But a lazy sunday afternoon of watching sports, drinking beer (and a little Noah’s Mill), plus a truly delicious roast pork loin courtesy of Eddie Money and Lady La La, and well I just didn’t have it in me to watch…
That’s what she said.
We’ve all been there. You’re hanging out with friends at a bar or party or whatever cool pseudo-underground clique you’ve ended up in for the night when someone utters a phrase so ripe with inadvertent sexual meanings, so comically pornographic that you have to at least mutter, “that’s what she said” under your breath.
As I’m sure you’ve noticed, since the start of the new year I’ve been pretty absent from the blogosphere. There are two reasons for the lack of digital banter.
Reason One: I have a band, Jareaux Jareaux. We just finished tracking a yet to be titled six song EP in our living room. Yes, I live with my bandmates. It’s kind of like living in a cross between in a Judd Apitow bromantic comedy and Stop Making Sense.
At any rate, the EP is going to sound awesome. I promise…But it turns out making gold records isn’t as easy as it seems. All of the recording is done and now we’re just sprinkling it with a little bit of magical awesomeness dust (producing, mixing, mastering).
It’s basically the time where someone who knows way more than you about sound tweaks some knobs and brings up fancy windows on their computer screen to make everything you’ve recorded sound the same but better.
I sit and watch and listen but the process is still pretty much confounding.
Reason Two: I’ve recently joined forces with my good friend Lydia on her master’s thesis. She gave me that lovely little tome, Why Women Have Sex. And now I’m helping her spread a new way of thinking about a woman’s cycle. I’ve been giving her a single male’s perspective on the whole thing. It’s not as creepy as it sounds. There might even be a Loveline style podcast to come out of it…
But don’t fret, I’ll keep waiting for Jareaux with you with more regularity soon enough…soon enough.
Talk about an amazing 80’s video! This is by far my favorite tune by Huey and the boys. And while I don’t think I can officially give him the title of ‘White Brotha’, he’s definitely and honorary member of the group.
How can we trust our feelings when they can change or disappear so completely?
Michelle Williams asks her grandmother that question in the beautifully bittersweet Blue Valentine. The title of the movie itself is at once incredibly hokey and at the same time a perfectly tragic and romantic summation of the film; a film that is in no way hokey. The storyline may seem a bit worn in (man falls for woman, makes her fall for him, they have a baby, things fall apart) but instead of the long married, middle aged, and withered relationships that this type movie normal examines, we are pushed and pulled between the flowering love and the dried husk of the romance between Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams’. It’s kind of like if Nicholas Sparks wrote The Notebook while consuming nothing but cheap whiskey and painkillers.
Every year on December 31st there is a huge spike in the number of people suffering from an affliction known as FOMO. FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out) can strike anyone at any time but seems to be most prevalent during the holiday season as well as Halloween.
It’s natural. Everyone is throwing parties, inviting you to parties, asking about what parties are going on. Facebook status updates and event reminders fill the News Feed. Everyone wants to have a good time. That’s harmless enough. But soon, the desire for a good time mutates and becomes a sick hunger for the best possible time. Suddenly, the infected person sees a potential flaw in every event they could go to.
“That party is too far away.”
“I don’t know enough people at this party.”
“What?! They want us to PAY to get in?!”
Those suffering from FOMO tend to become extremely judgemental and flakey. Additionally, their rational thought process is easily derailed at the prospect of drugs and/or sex as well as the lack of drugs or sex.
How do you know if you have FOMO? There are several ways to self diagnose:
1. Are you nervously grooming?
2. Have you been invited to multiple parties, it is 7pm, and you still don’t know what you’re doing?
3. Have you checked Facebook and/or Twitter at least twice as much as normal?
4. Did you switch your cell phone to vibrate mode at 10am and have been sexually pleasuring yourself with incoming phone calls and text messages?
5. Do you keep buying liquor and drugs because of an irrational fear you will not have them when you need them most…in order to initiate a flirtation/sexual encounter?
If you answered yes to any of these questions, you might have the early on set FOMO. And while there is no known cure for FOMO there are things you can do to protect yourself:
- put your cell phone in airplane mode and turn off your computer
- avoid prolonged contact with known FOMO carriers
- let someone (best friend, significant other, psychic) else plan your night for you
- start drinking
Don’t forget, if you stop worrying about having a good time, you’ll probably end up having a great time. So stay safe out there and remember: Nobody likes a FOMO!
Happy New Year!
Tonight, I bowled at 600 series.
For you laypersons who haven’t loaded another browser page yet, bowling a series consists of three games. A 600 series is where a bowler’s total pinfall (their score) is at least 600. At approximately 6:45pm Eastern Standard Time, I bowled three games with a total pinfall of 616. For three games and two and a half beers I rolled 222, 179, and 215 respectively. It was the first time that I’ve ever accomplished that feat. And since ESPN doesn’t troll crummy bowling alleys looking for highlight fodder, I thought I’d share my glory on the interweb.
The first game was for the couple two lanes down. Two aspiring hipster bowlers with their own bowling balls and vintage bowling bags. She had chunky bangs and black lace showing underneath her tattered white tee. He had skinny jeans and thick black frame glasses. They were the perfect picture of Williamsburg bowling romance. I think there was some envy in that game.
The second game I made the fewest mistakes and was the most consistent. That game was for me. And of course it would have to be the lowest scoring game. Sigh…
The last game was for the couple who started bowling directly next to me. A schlubby sort of average Joe (North Face fleece, clean shaven, hair cropped), and his phenomenally attractive girlfriend. I cannot even begin to tell you how my mind raced at all the possible explanations of how they could have been together, although the GIANT rock on her finger helped. She posed, and he took pictures of her while she bowled. There was some envy in that game. Some lust too.
As for me? No friends, no teammates, no one around to care about what I was doing.
And yeah, maybe I was trying to roll a few strikes for the blond betty with her Gideon Yago boyfriend, or the brunette with an ass that would have had room for all of my bowling trophies to sit on it. Maybe I did it for the girl who wasn’t bowling with me. Maybe I was hoping that someone was seeing what I was doing. But no one did. And that’s OK. You gotta get over yourself. Envy is corrosive and wasteful. Lust is fun but fleeting. Pride is a blinding veil. Humility is its own reward…
Do you see how easily I turn bowling into a religion? It kind of weirds ME out sometimes.
*Not all of these albums came out this year, they’re just what I’ve been listening to in 2010.
After listening to All Songs Considered Top 25 Albums of 2010 (as decided by the listeners) I thought that I should take stock of the music I’ve enjoyed this past year. Some picks I’ve known and loved for some time, some I’ve only recently become totally obsessed with (I’m looking at you Joanna). I’ve also included one of my favorite song off of each album. Here, in no particular order, is my Top 10 of 2010.
