"Do What You Want."

I don't claim to be the best person to go for advice. Forgetting the lyrics to Salute Your Shorts? I'm your man. Need a random Daniel Tosh quote to add to your library of snappy comebacks? I can do that. Can't remember who sang "Silent Running" to add to your 80's dance party mix? Put on these headphones and set your ears to stunned (it's Mike and the Mechanics, btw).

But relationship advice? I don't think I'm a guru. However, it seems so simple to me. I thought about this while sitting in a booth with my friend Veronica as she spilled her guts about a current boy dilemma she was having. And then yesterday, a fellow blogger initiated a gchat conversation asking for my point-of-view on a male issue.

In both situations, as I took everything in, I couldn't help but think that these problems have a very simple solution. I am going to provide you with the golden rule, the magical key to Narnia...

Do what you want.

Most people wouldn't think that this is very good advice (Veronica certainly didn't). Allow me to break down my thought process.

I'm the type of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. I understand that this isn't the best method for everyone, but having to always second guess your actions and constantly holding your cards close to your chest while sweat pours down your brow is one of the things I detest about the dating scene.

I'll use a simple (and quite popular) case to illustrate my point. Girl wants to call guy up, but girl overthinks and processes of every possible scenerio what might go wrong. E.g. guy might be scared off, guy might never return phone call, guy might gouge eyes out like Oedipus, guy might chug a bottle of Draino and throw himself off of a penthouse balcony.

If you feel like calling someone. Call them. If you feel like asking them out again. Ask em.

I don't get why people constantly struggle over these things. What are they afraid of? If the guy really likes you, then he'll enjoy the phone call! If he gets annoyed, or scared off, or any other other emotions that I can't quite relate to in regards to a simple phone call... then is he really going to be the one that you want to see again?

These back and forth games of trying to figure out what the other person is thinking, anticipating their move and holding back what you want to do to is absurd to me. It's a shitty game of Risk. And I fucking hate Risk.

onward to unnecessary over-analysis!

If you want to do something just do it.

If the guy really likes you, he's not going to be weirded out by a phone call. He's going to look forward to it. If he's anything other than excited, then do you really want to be with this guy anyway?

Anyway.

That's my thought process.

Take it with a grain of a salt. After all, it is ME you're asking.

You wouldn't ask a multiple amputee to hold your beer, right?

A Girl Distraction Makes the Best Distraction

One of the golden rules of survival I learned post-break up was the best thing to ever happen to you is:

distractions. distractions. distractions.

I'd say it's the most important element of survival. And I did my best to surround myself with as many things as possible. I bought mind-numbing games for my hand-held Nintendo DS (worked best to avoid those emo thoughts before finding sleep). I took every opportunity to go out and drink with friends, ignoring the cries of pain from my empty, tri-fold wallet. I even went to an old, forgotten arcade to shave off some precious hours on a Sunday.

I'm telling you, a good distraction to keep your mind off all that mental vomit is absolutely essential.

But despite all the video games, the 3:00 am beer fests, and the constant looping of Quantum Leap reruns... there is nothing quite like the distraction of flirting with a cute girl, who flirts back.

as much as I love you Scott Bakula
you can't beat the attention of a good woman

Remember when Tim Robbins in Shawshank is explaining to Morgan "Red" Freeman that "hope is a good thing, maybe the best of things". It's kinda like that.

Of course, this isn't to say that flirting results in anything serious. X doesn't HAVE to equal Y in order for it to have any meaning. However, it is comforting to know that (Holy shit!) there are actually other girls out there who are physically attractive and YES, have the potential to be really cool.

As innocent as it is, I still find a tinge of those giddy feelings I used to get with girls way long ago:
looking forward to the next letter/email, the next online conversation, a new picture posted, exchanging music recommendations...

Wow. Hmmm... that sounded a lot cooler in my head, but you get the idea. Internet crushes. -shrug-

She's short, can enjoy an alcoholic beverage, likes cartoons, cute girl-next-door look, witty. And is giving me the time of day? Wants to have a 5 hour conversation with me?? Who knew??

Did I mention she lives across the sea? Goddamn Weezer, why do you hurt so good??*



But I digress. My point is the fact that I am finding myself at a place where I can have an optimistic view of the future... other girls can exist out there that can fit all of these strict So@24 requirements (or even SOME of them). Even if it's something as simple as innocent flirtation.

Maybe I can get giddy again.





* if you got my reference before clicking on the link, then you too have the potential to be my next crush.

Leo's Guest Post

Through my comments section, my mailbox and various g-chat conversations... there has been an overwhelming cry from the masses demanding a guest post from my devil-may-care roommate Leo.

I've tried to get him to write, but he stuck firm with leaving the blogging up to me. But this week, his foundation crumbled. He has a story to tell.

My roommate can provide an insight which I cannot. Relations with the opposite sex.

Without further ado, here is Leo's guest post

* * *

Double-standards are a bitch.

It is with great trepidation that I write this--not only because

a) most of So@24's readership is female, but also because
b) most gender-based double-standards benefit males--sexual promiscuity i.e. the Slut/Pimp reputation inequality and arguably the ability to pee standing up (seriously you don't know what you're missing).

At So@24's request, I am here to discuss one particular double-standard that benefits the ladies. And hooo boy, as a single guy, it is annoying.

I'm not referring to girls being ushered in front of lines at bars and clubs as the boys line up, cash for cover in hand, like bulls being led to slaughter. Seriously that violates like four of the cardinal rules you learn in kindergarten, namely, "wait your fucking turn", but ultimately I can deal with it.

No, I'm referring to booty calls. Or more specifically, booty texts.

I'm not gonna lie. I drink a beer or two on any given weekend night. The fizzy bubbles and tasty malt do something to Uncle Leo's brain that make him feel good--specifically, horny. Sometimes this results in a booty text.

I'm a good booty texter--I keep it light, funny (I think... again, I'm buzzerooed), playful, and respectful--if the recipient is unavailable, that's ok. I'll grab some tacos on the way home and hit up YouTube for a funny video or two of a kitten falling off the back of a couch, laugh hysterically, and eventually pass out. I'm a simple guy.

Sometimes I'll have the privilege of receiving a booty text. Sometimes, however, I'm tired or reading or really into this one video of a cat with it's head stuck in a cardboard box, and frankly I'd rather just... not. So I politely, playfully, and respectfully ask for a raincheck...

...And then receive the wrath of a thousand angry gods.

Hell hath no fury like a woman turned down for sex. Don't believe me? Here are two text conversations, transcribed verbatim, all grammar and spelling remains unchanged. I've added some commentary/internal monologue.

-cellphone ding-

-I lift my head from pillow, as it's 1:46 a.m. on a SUNDAY. Yes, I mean the day of the lord, the day of fucking rest, the day I get my sweet sleep before the succubus known as Monday wakes me up by proverbially peeing on my face-

Lady 1: Hi!!

-sigh-

Leo: Whoa. Hello there.
Lady 1: What r u doing?

-trying hard not to type "Take a wild guess"-

Leo: Nothing. Trying to stay cool in our non-airconditioned house. Are you out!?
Lady 1: U could say that...
Leo: Nice. Squeeze the last few drops out of the weekend. Methinks you've had a few...
Lady 1: Maaaaaybe : )
Lady 1: So... How long are u gonna be up for?
Leo: Well considering I have work at 8 am, I was thinking at least another 3 or 4 hours.

-ok I didn't write that, I wrote this...-

Leo: ...Whyyyy....
Lady 1: I kinda wanna cuddle...

-slaps forehead, sighs-

Leo: Ahhh. I think it's a bit late--I'm exhausted and have to be up early, as much as I'd love to. Raincheck?
Lady 1: Eww really? I wasn't talking about actual cuddling u fucker!

-rubs temples-

Leo: I know! I'm sorry I've been up since 7 and was out in the sun....
Lady 1: Wow. You are really weak.

Next morning her Facebook status read "Lady 1 is thinking 3 for 1 drinks on a Sunday night = bad choices."

A second text convo, different girl

-cellphone ding-

-At home, I look over at phone. It's 1:58am on a Saturday. Last call is over and the bar lights must have just come up...this is definitely a booty text-

Lady 2: So what's up.

-Gotta be careful with this one, she can get a little terrifying when drunk-

Leo: At home, what are you up to?
Lady 2: Do u want to hangg ou

-Ruh roh. She's shammered-

Lady 2: do u want to meeet up ltaer

-Careful soldier, caaaarefull....don't cut the blue wire...steady...-

Leo: Damn, yes, but I'm already in bed, about to pass out. Long night, you around next weekend?
Lady 2: U are so fucking predictable.

-I catch my reflection in the darkened window and cock an eyebrow-

To reflection, aloud: "God damned blue wire."

Haven't heard from her since.

Now in summation, if the genders were inverted, it'd be pretty uncouth for a guy to say some of those things to a girl. "You are really weak" is like a line straight out of a mid-eighties domestic violence PSA.

Alas I must let it slide--who knows when I'll be breaking out Mr. Cellie to give the ol' contacts a quick one-eyed drunken perusal.

So ladies, please--be kind when it doesn't happen. All good things to those who wait.

Meet Raul

Another evening. Another night out at the bars.

Leroy: Man, look at all the chicks here!
So@24: Who could you POSSIBLY be talking about?
Leroy: Look at those two girls over there. This is the night for you man, I know it!
So@24: It's a Wednesday, Leroy. And... getting down to brass tacks here, I'm not attracted to them physically. But I appreciate you looking out.
Leroy: Let me handle this, buddy.
So@24: No wait! I don't...

And much like the last time my loyal roommate tried to "get" girls for me, he was off to the races... leaving me shaking my head in disbelief before I could object.

Leo and I continued to converse when in mid-conversation, I could see that Leo's eyes wander over my shoulder and widen.

Leo: Oh shit. You have to see this.
So@24: Fuck me. What is it now?

My eyes follow Leo's finger to Leroy. Leroy is at the bar, giving one of the two girls a massage.

A massage? Really?

Leo and I clink our pints in a cheers and picked up where we left off (probably some really engrossing dick joke).

Leroy runs over, excited like a little boy in a candyshop.

Leroy: Alright, you're in! Come on, let's go talk to them.
So@24: Leroy, I told you I wasn't interested in those girls. And besides, why did you give them a massage!?
Leroy: I told them I was a masseuse. And you are my apprentice. Your name is "Raul".
So@24: Raul!?
Leroy: Raul. And remember, we're professional masseuses!
So@24: Time to leave. I'm driving!

Respectfully Declined.

An email in my So@24 account:

Hi So@24,

I'm the owner of a Sex Advice Blog [link given here].

Now I'm seeking for new friends and partners.
I want to propose you to exchange links with your blog for visitors interchange.

I'm sure our cooperation will be useful for our visitors.

Please, review my suggestion and give me the answer.

Have a nice day

Best regards,
XXXXX

My response:

Hey XXXX,

I'm flattered, but I don't use a blogroll. And I think to be a contributer for a sexblog, I'm assuming you have to be having sex, right?

If you take some time to read mine, you'll see that might be a roadblock.

Cheers!

So@24

The Shacking Patterns of Women

Shacking.

Girls sleeping over and staying in the bed of a male that is someone who is not a significant other.*

This isn't something that I'm particularly used to (not a surprise that a long term girlfriend would frown upon me doing this when we dated), but after Jenny stayed over... I conjured up a theory. As I often tend to do.

My theory is: girls shacking methods might be correlated with their personalities.

And since I really only have two girls as my case studies, they will have to do in order to explain my train of thought.

Beth

Shacking Habits:

• passed out in her dress on New Years
• will often grab a t-shirt from my drawer on her own
• sleeps in my t-shirt and undies
• passes out
  
• since I only have one pillow, we share it
  

Personality Traits:

• Disorganized, frantic in stressful situations
  
• spontaneous/sporadic
• go-with-the-flow attitude
• Ideal Evening = Rusty Nails followed by grilled cheese sandwiches and reruns of Strangers with Candy and/or cartoons
  
• has been known to chase Monarch vodka w/ Grey Goose
  

Jenny

Shacking Habits:

• Asked me to provide shorts and a t-shirt
• Requested an additional pillow (Thanks Leo!)
  
• falls asleep
• Ideal Evening = dancing and reruns of Sex & the City and/or Friends
  
• fell asleep in a very casual, proper manner (if that makes sense)

Personality Traits:

• Extremely organized
• likes to have events/gatherings planned out in advance
• focused, goal driven
  
• enjoys a good wine
  

Again, just a theory. Not sure how credible it is, but it was two examples that are very different when provided with the same scenario.




* good catch, Commenter!

"You Coulda Cleaned Up!"

I've heard this phrase said to me a handful of times.

It's usually on night where I decided to go home early [got too drunk at the bar] or stay in [got too drunk before going to bar] or I didn't join my friends at the bar they wanted to go to [wanted to drink at home after the bar].

But it's always under the same circumstances. "You coulda cleaned up, man!"

"Really?? Why??"

"It was all asians there!"

Huh. So it's come to that has it?

Is that really what it's going to take? Are my only chances with asian girls? Even at that, how can people be so sure that magically, the scales will tip in my favor?

It's no secret that I'm a halfie, but why is it that people always think I am going to fare much better when I am with girls who share the same ethnicity as me? I wonder if this is a trend that holds water.

More Than Just Her and Me

While Leo and Leroy embarked on a journey in the video game sense, I thought it might be a good idea to start cooking my lunches for the remainder of the week.

As I was chopping up a few mushrooms for my spaghetti, I got a phone call from Andy, my ex's mother. I continued to chop away as I held the cellphone between my shoulder and cheek.

This isn't anything out of the ordinary. As I've mentioned before, she will call me occasionally to check up on me and see how my life is going. But something during the conversation made me step back a bit and think.

After catching her up to date on everything that is So@24 (career, family, dating [ha!], movie recommendations, etc), I asked Andy about what was new in her life.

She casually mentioned that she decided to sell her house. I could sense there was some sadness in her voice.

So@24: I can't believe you have to sell that house. Are you bummed?
Andy: I'm a little sad. But at the same time, it's not special anymore.
So@24: What do you mean?
Andy: The best times I've had are when you two were in high school; when you were dating. Those have been my favorite memories of that house and I can say, I think I was happiest then. But when you moved to California after college, then Lynn followed, the the break up... now, it's just not that special.

I didn't ask her to elaborate on that. We continued talking about other things until I had to go to finish up my pasta.

***

Andy's words, at face value, really aren't significant. But it got me thinking about something that I never considered before.

When a breakup happens (and a few months thereafter), you're consumed about just yourself and just your now, ex-significant other. It's all about you, you, you. You and her are the only ones that feel the impact of this "monumental" event that has happened.

But breakups can effect others too. And it's an idea that I never once considered until now. It has the ability to actually effect other people's lives as well.

Not sure if I have a point to this, but it was something that made me step back and think for a second. Perhaps that's good enough.

Penny Arcade Gets It

taken from Penny Arcade.

The Good Stuff

Jack had never heard about the epic and heroic tale of my first kiss with Lynn. So after I filled him in and waited for him to wipe the tears away from his face, we had this convo...

Jack: Still though, best feeling in the world.
So@24: Totally.
Jack: God. If you could buy that feeling on the street, I'd be strung out on it 24-7. I hope that's a feeling you get to keep having when you're older.
So@24: Me too. There's nothing quite like it.
Jack: I don't think I've had a kiss like that, where I felt like my life was on the line, since 2005.

...

Now kissing is just kissing.
So@24: Definitely one of those things where if I could relive it again (despite how humiliating it was), I would. Even after knowing where we'd end up.
Jack: Jesus, I know. It's usually on the doorstep. You're heart is going crazy in your chest, she goes inside after and you damn near do a flip walking back to your car.
So@24: You might even pull out the one knee to the ground, fist pump.
Jack: When it's true. It's true. Fuck aging, man. God, I hope I have at least one more of those in front of me.
So@24: I had that half smile going on when I was recapping it for you. You think it's gonna come back?
Jack: I think it does. It's just rare, which is why it's so damn great.
So@24: That's the good stuff.

Grenade Jumper, I ain't

A funny thing I noticed about Leo. Whenever he's planning on hooking up with a girl, he makes his bed. Most of the days, his bed looks like mine... a pathetic, wrinkled comforter strewn haphazardly across the mattress.

Shaving, showering, hair cuts, changing clothes... these are aren't nearly as important as tucking in his linens and arranging his pillows in a perfect, symmetrical fashion.

Reminds me of when male birds clean their nests to court female birds. I feel like I study the habits of my roommate as a single male much like Jane Goodall did with the chimpanzee. I jotted on my notepad, "Maybe I should start making my bed."

But unfortunately for my roommate, this was the first time I saw him make his bed and have it not be "used" within a 24 hour period. Here's why...

***

Leo's had his scope on this one girl, but her friend "that shitty girl" is always at her side when they come over. So guess who has to deal with her? I suppose at this point I should give her a name, since I've blogged about her enough. I held it off because I didn't think she'd be around long enough to merit an alias. -sigh- Alright, fine. Let's call her Sherry.

Not only am I not physically attracted to "shitty girl", but having a conversation with her is absolutely painful. It's excruciating. You ever know someone who is "totally into art" and wants to "meet creative minds"? For the record, anyone who says they want to meet "creative minds" is full of shit.

Sherry sits down and pulls up a seat right next to her. "Come here, So@24. Sit down here and tell me something fascinating!"

What the fuck does that even mean? I look to Jenny to save me from this convo. She's busy bouncing quarters into glasses. Figures.

I take a seat and she props her head on her knuckles and smiles (why is that annoying the shit out of me??).

So@24: Where's your drink?

Sherry looks at me like I just asked her the most absurd, out-of-the-blue question anyone has ever received.

Sherry: Why do I need a drink? I don't need to drink to have a conversation.
So@24's Inner Monologue: Ahhh, I should have expected an awkward response from you. Kudos. Kudos. You aren't drinking? You're not the DD? Well, then why did you come to a party??

***

Fast forward to after the bars. It feels like college again. Everyone is hanging out in my room, drinking beers, and iTunes is blaring Toto's "Africa". Jack is laying game on my friend Jenny. Leo is laying his game on his girl. And then there is Sherry. There's absolutely no way I'm going to grenade jump for Leo. Under different circumstances (e.g. him never knowing the warm embrace of a woman, me having an entire bottle of Jaeger, etc.) I would have considered it.

But nope. Not gonna happen. Homeboy can fend for himself on this one.

It's getting late. Sherry is getting a little... ballsy. Leo's girl and Sherry are both laying on my bed, but Sherry at one point wraps her legs around my torso... while I'm standing. Why can't this ever happen with girls that I'm interested in?

So@24 tears off shirt, drops to knees and looks to the heavens: Why!? Whyyyyyyyyyyyy!?

I felt like Dirk the Daring getting crushed by tentacles wrapped around me.

back the eff up, son

Enough's enough. Time to go. Leo's girl does not end up staying the night. Why? She would have, but she has to take Sherry home, of course! Jack leaves. Jenny stays.

Jenny: Can I borrow a pair of boxers and a t-shirt?

Whoa. I have not had to give a girl a pair of boxers and a t-shirt since, God knows how long. But man, it's been awhile.

I drunkenly fumble through some drawers, but one rule I remembered! I found a shirt and a pair of boxers that I really don't like that much, in case she runs off with them. I toss her my green pair of boxers that's design is spattered with burgers and fries.

Jenny:: You only have one pillow!
So@24: Oh right. Uh... Leo? Some help, buddy?

Of course, I only have one pillow. Lynn took her's!

A pillow is thrown from Leo's door frame.

We immediately passed out like kittens, absolutely PLATONIC, of course... it's what good friends do.

I Love My Friends Pt. 7

"I heard the last time you had sex was October 2006..."

- via text message from Tina, an old college friend
Thu, May 1st @ 8:03pm

Key to the Past

Jenny was on her way to pick me up for our bi-monthly night of sushi. I, in classic fashion, could not for the life of me find my house keys in the warzone-aftermath that is my desk.

I was getting out of the shower, scrambling to put one leg through a pair of jeans and shoveling trash off my desk to find this illusive key, when suddenly I knocked over a picture frame on my desk.

Something caught my eye. A tiny piece of paper sticking out of the back of the frame.

"What the fuck..."

I open the back of the picture frame and nestled inside was a worn piece of notebook paper.

I recognize the handwriting immediately. A note from Beth.


After my first read, I slowly sat down at the edge of my bed. Imagine the scene for a second: water is dripping off my hair into tiny puddles on the hardwood floor, Jenny will be at the door any second now, I am in my boxers with only one jean leg on, reading this note. Confused as fuck.

When was this written? Based off the context, it had to have been years ago when I was in college.

But what's really said in this? What's Beth trying to tell me? It does provide some insight into why reasons why nights like this have happened. And she says some extremely kind words, but does it really give me insight to what's going on in that brain of her's? Not really. It's the same kind of vague, I'm almost going to say something that will absolutely turn your world upside down...

... but nevermind.

It's been too long since this letter was written to do anything about it now.