Captain Subtext

 

I’ve been in a Coupling kind of mood recently, so I decided to rewatch season 2. Oh how I love Coupling. If you’ve never watched Coupling, it’s a British comedy show revolving around 6 friends and sex. I’ve never watched Friends much, but I think it’s the same idea with just a whole lot more dirty jokes. 

I was particularly enjoying the episode Her Best Friend’s Bottom as there was frequent bottom-mentioning and we know I am currently on a kick about my possibly expanding behind. Plus, this is the episode with Captain Subtext.

See there’s this one character Jeff who is just a bit insane. He’s very awkward and neurotic, and is always revealing the fascinating and scary ways in which his mind works. He introduces wonderful things like the giggle loop, the sock gap, and Captain Subtext.

Captain Subtext is an imaginary hero that lived in Jeff’s attic. He had secret conferences with Jeff’s mother, telling her whenever Jeff lied and punishing him by removing “segments” of Jeff’s privates. He could pick up the subtext of any conversation, and by the end of the episode his magic truth helmet is used to show what everyone is really saying.

Turns out this was a doubly appropriate episode, as I was just talking to my friend Jenn the other day about how I think I can’t pick up on conversational subtext.

Initially, I thought I just couldn’t pick up on guys hitting on me. Actually to be honest, I didn’t even pick up on it initially, friends had to point it out. In my defense I think it’s much easier to notice these types of things when you’re observing, instead of it actually happening to you. It seemed totally natural to me to assume that the guy at KFC asking about where I lived probably just needed directions.

Then I started to suspect that maybe I just don’t know all the proper “codes.” Like when I guy asks if I want a drink, and I say “no” because I already have a drink or I’m not thirsty, apparently that actually means “no” as in I’m not interested. Or if you tell a guy friend they can stay at your place, apparently some guys think it’s code that you’re coming on to them even when you’re not.

Now I’m thinking maybe it’s not that I don’t know all these codes, but that I’m just constantly missing the subtext in conversations. I’ve had it come up recently with female friends as well where I realize (or someone tells me later) that I missed the focus of what we were really discussing.

There’s a moment in You’ve Got Mail where Meg Ryan’s character, Kathleen, complains about how she always thinks of the perfect comeback after a conversation is over. I don’t have this problem with comebacks. I do, however, have this problem with almost every other type of conversation. Hours later, I realize that my friend was hinting they also wanted an invitation to go out that night. Or, the next day, I realize that a guy gave me a perfect lead in to suggest a date that I just completely overlooked. My problem is I take everything at face value. Like Patrick from Coupling, I think you’ll find that “not everybody has a subconscious” and I don’t really believe that “people say one thing and mean another.”  

I’m hoping that now that I’ve realized this problem, maybe it’ll get better. Maybe I’ll be more attentive to people and start hearing what they’re really saying.

Sadly, I doubt this. I’m pretty sure it’s tied in with my general lack of observational skills. Keep in mind, I’m the person that has hit my head twice this week because I didn’t notice how close I was to a wall.

Maybe I should start issuing warnings to all my friends. Maybe I should make a shirt or something. Instead of a medical bracelet, have a social skills bracelet alerting anyone that interacts with me that they need to be far more literal.

Oh well, I’ll figure it out eventually. Plenty of time to learn the social conventions everyone else apparently gets at birth. At least I own the complete box set of Coupling! I’m going to end with some of my favorite dialogue from the episode, because if you haven’t watched Coupling yet, you really need to get on that.

Jeff: Do you know what she’ll really be asking? Do you know what Captain Subtext would say?

Steve: …Captain Subtext?

Jeff: She’ll be saying, do you fancy my best friend?

Steve: And who is… Captain Subtext?

Jeff: So what will you tell her when she asks you that?

Steve: The truth!

Jeff: But you do fancy her, everybody fancies Sally.

Steve: Ok… I’ll tell her a lie.

Jeff: She’ll know.

Steve [sarcastically]: What, will Captain Subtext tell her?

Jeff: Heh, Captain Subtext isn’t a real person, Steve.

Cheaters Never Prosper

Sometimes it seems like the universe really wants me to focus on something. It just comes up over and over again. Before I moved, it was Texas. Everywhere I turned, everywhere I looked, something came up either about Texas or reminding me of Texas. I took that as a sign from the universe that I was meant to move. Right now, the universe theme of the week is cheating. I am not taking it as a sign to cheat (although if I were in a committed relationship, I might be nudged into doing some checking on my significant other), but more as a sign of something I need to discuss.

One should note, longing looks are probably a bad sign...

The most recent cheating event that has come up is of course the Kristen Stewart/Robert Pattinson debacle. I know, I know, you’re sick of it already. And it just came out YESTERDAY. Me too. Don’t worry, we’re not talking about them.

We’re talking about the main questions that have come out of this. Will RPatt take her back? Should he forgive her? Should we? Does an apology make it right?

A year ago, I would instantly know my answer to all of those questions. Absolutely not. There is never a justified reason for cheating. You should never trust a cheater. And maybe you should forgive, but just in the sense of magnanimously saying “I forgive you” and moving on with your life instead of being consumed by bitterness and turning into the angry cat person.

The black and white version is that cheaters cheat. There is something programmed in them to make them cheat, and no one in their right mind would ever date/marry that person. If this was true, we could just find all the cheaters in the world and put them on their own island and do our own non-cheating thing. But not only is this idea ridiculous (and morally reprehensible to boot), it’s not true.

I want to turn to a quote from an excellent movie, When Harry Met Sally: “marriages don’t break up on account of infidelity. It’s just a symptom that something else is wrong.”

This is a wise movie my friends, with many gems of advice we can take for our real lives (like “everybody thinks they have good taste and a sense of humor but they couldn't possibly all have good taste”). I don’t think people cheat just to cheat. I mean really, who wants to be known as a cheater? It’s definitely not anything we applaud. So I think we have to take those reasons into consideration.

So is it ever justified to cheat? Well actually there are tons of examples where we’re encouraged to overlook cheating. I’m just going to point out the few (kinda obscure) ones that have come up for me this week.

1.     Suze in the book Fast Women by Jennifer Crusie.

Let me just say first that I love Jennifer Crusie, and I think she does a fabulous job combining humor, action, and real life relationship situations. A lot of the women in Fast Women are dealing with cheating spouses, but what we might forget is that Suze, a totally awesome character, was once the other woman. She slept with a married man, who she eventually married. She broke up a marriage. Does that mean we hate her? No! So why is it okay to forgive Suze? Especially when she ends up kissing another woman while still married. They don’t have sex, so technically that’s not cheating (depending on your definition), but it’s getting to the fuzzy line of morality.

2.     Marie in When Harry Met Sally

Since we already mentioned this movie, let’s roll with it some more. We can’t forget that one of the main characters is having an affair with a married man for YEARS. Sure, he never leaves his wife, but is that really good? Would you want to be that wife? I think not. Yet we can’t help liking and rooting for Marie, especially when she matures and gets married herself.

3.     Scott Pilgrim in Scott Pilgrim Vs. the World

This movie is all about Scott Pilgrim fighting others to get the love of his life, Ramona. Never mind the fact that he met Ramona and started dating her while he was still involved with a 17-year-old girl. At least Scott learns a lesson, and apologizes. But wait, didn’t I start by saying that apologizing doesn’t make it right? Well then how come I still want Scott and Ramona to end up together?

4.     Nick Aten in Blood Crazy

This is undoubtedly the most obscure reference yet, as Blood Crazy is one of my favorite random horror books. Nick Aten ends up sleeping with another woman because he is drugged, and thinks he’s just having vivid sex dreams. Well surely that’s okay. It’s totally not even his fault. But then after finding out what’s really going on, he’s persuaded to sleep with the girl again, for the fun of it. Can you really say no at that point?

Those are just the examples that have come up this week. As I said, there are tons more. But I think the key point we’re getting here is that circumstances and situations definitely have a role in cheating.

Let’s go a step further. How many of you have you a celeb freebie? That one celeb you lust after so much, it is an accepted fact that you would be allowed to cheat if it was with that celeb (for the record, mine was Hugh Jackman, although at this point I’m considering changing it to Alexander Skarsgard or Ian Somerhalder). This is actually a fairly common conversation piece, because it’s interesting to hear everyone’s celeb choices. But when you really think about it, the whole idea is encouraging cheating. Sure, with celebrities, but technically they’re people too.

It's an interesting wedding when the fight is NOT caused by the bride's coatroom hookup

I actually loved the Don’t Trust the B—in Apt 23 episode where they go to a wedding, and James Van Der Beek (who is playing a twisted version of himself) finds out he’s the bride’s freebie and of course ends up having sex with her in the coat room, which everyone is cool with. Cuz it’s a freebie. Let me repeat, James Van Der Beek sleeps with a bride on her wedding day and it’s funny because it’s a freebie. WHAT IS WRONG WITH US, AMERICA?

Let’s end with a movie basically dedicated to cheating, the hysterical and insulting Road Trip. Basically the premise revolves around a guy that cheats (kinda accidentally, kinda not, it’s really debatable) and then goes across the country to make sure his girlfriend doesn’t find out. Not only is this movie all about cheating, it introduced into the wider world the idea behind the “it’s not cheating rules.”

Like “it’s not cheating if it’s a different area code,” and “it’s not cheating if you’re too wasted to remember.” And who can forget, “it’s not cheating if you spread peanut butter on your balls and let your dog lick it off… because it’s YOUR dog.” With that kind of mindset, Game of Thrones characters could probably argue “it’s not cheating if it’s with your sibling… because it’s your family. Get it?” Gross.

So what’s the moral of the story here? Who the heck knows. I think really, we need to start considering that maybe we shouldn’t be so judgmental. And I include myself in that. I mean yes, the person who cheated screwed up, but at the end of the day they made a bad decision. I make bad decisions all the time. Mine just happen to be of a different variety than cheating.

I’m certainly not condoning cheating. I just think that maybe it shouldn’t be so black and white anymore. It’s not just cheater/cheatee. There are many people involved, all of whom probably made mistakes, and it’s a very sticky web to unravel. Unless you’re the one who was cheated on, you cannot even begin to fully comprehend the situation. And in the meantime, if you’re not personally involved, well then, stay out of it.  

To close, I'll just casually say that if I had been Kristen Stewart and gun to my head I HAD to cheat with a married man from Snow White and The Huntsman... well it definitely wouldn't be with the old director man. Just saying. 

The Day the Metabolism Died

“We're women. There is nothing above bottoms on the crisis scale. Bottoms are our natural enemy.”

-Sally Harper, Coupling

Today is Gorgeous Grandma Day, and you know how I love me some random holidays. Today I want to start by talking about my grandmother on my mother’s side. She was totally a dish back in the day. Obviously I didn’t know her back then, but I’ll say that she looks like quite a bit of a vixen too. I’d bet you $5 she would have had you wrapped around her finger and begging to carry out her every wish. Of course she probably was also a bit of a tease, as she’ll tell anyone sitting with her no matter what age range that she hates sex. Does not like it. No thank you, sir.

Anyway, so not only was my grandma super sexy back in the day, she aged really well. I would never dare to say her actual age (I want to live!) but she has always looked much younger. And this despite a totally unhealthy diet avoiding all the essential things doctors think you need. Go, Grandma!

Of course, as much as I wish for this genetic legacy, I’m pretty sure it’s going to skip me and go to my brother. The lucky duck. But he has far more of the other traits from that side of the family than I do. Including the butt. Yes, the butt.

My mother’s side of the family tends more towards voluptuousness. These are all hot, curvy, sexalicious women. Now for some of us it’s more bust. For some, like my mother, it’s all in the rear. My mother has quite a butt on her. And when she was a young, sexy thang, she showed it off. Short shorts, boots, and dresses that are ridiculously short. This is why over the years she’s earned nicknames like Buns and Mrs. Lumpy Bottom.

My father loves to tease her about her butt. Being impressionable children at one point and then turning to habit, my brother and I totally picked it up too. My dad sometimes hinted that I might expect the same thing to happen when I got older, but genetics loved me for once, and while I got a little butt at some point, I never got a rear quite like my mother’s. But to my endless delight, MY BROTHER DID!!

Yes, it’s as funny as it sounds. Sadly, I can’t find a really super awesome photo to demonstrate, but here is one example. My brother is to the left. Even in this picture you can see the curvature. Notice the huge difference from the random person on the right with saggy jeans, the guy norm. My brother’s got some junk in the trunk. Baby got back. And it is GROWING. This is an older picture. I’m fairly certain his butt is larger now.

I spent years cackling over this fact of life and telling almost anyone I knew about my brother’s butt. Unfortunately, I think karma caught up to me.

You see, in the past month or so I’ve become convinced that my butt is starting to get bigger.

Love this show.

Seriously, it's awesome.

Just to clarify, I am NOT one of those girls that constantly obsesses over their behind, like Sally from Coupling. My butt isn’t too big, or too small. It’s just there, so I ignored it. I didn’t dress to show it off, I didn’t worry about it looking too large.

All of a sudden though my clothes started fitting differently. I pulled out pants that used to fit fine, and now they’re unduly tight in the derriere region. I throw on skirts I used to love, and the hem’s a little too close to my unmentionables for comfort. Even my underwear is fitting differently.

But it’s a subtle change. That’s the problem. I’m not entirely sure if my butt is really larger, or if it’s all in my mind. After all, I hardly look at the thing. I don’t have it memorized. Maybe it was always that size. Maybe my dryer went rogue and shrunk all my clothes. I keep asking people I know if they’ve looked at my butt before and can verify, but they just think I’m crazy (story of my life).

There’s a legitimate reason for why I need to know if it’s getting bigger. I need to identify the cause.

See, I jazzercise now. Someday I might do a whole jazzercise post, but let me just say it’s amazing, and I love it. My tummy is firmer, my thighs are becoming bricks, and I have arm muscles for the first time in my entire life. So my cute lil bum should NOT be getting larger. Unless it’s muscle, which is what people have suggested. I think it might be perkier, but is it muscle?? I can't tell.

In which case, is this a sign that my metabolism has finally started to die!?!

This is what I need to know – the state of my metabolism. This is crucially important to my continued existence.

I’m not saying I have the best metabolism in the world. It wouldn’t win gold medals. However, my metabolism is totally a beast. I’ve never been super skinny, but on the plus side I’ve never been plus size, which I completely owe to my metabolism. Until jazzercise this year, I didn’t work out regularly. I disdained physical activity.

Not to mention the things I eat fairly often would probably cause someone with a normal metabolism to gain 5 pounds in 5 seconds.

Don’t believe me? Ok well, let’s give some concrete examples. I will eat cheese sticks (the fried kind, not that stupid string cheese stuff) several days in a row. I once ate enough icecream in a single sitting to give my tongue (mild) frostbite. Now that I’m older and trying to be slightly healthy, I limit myself to only a half pound of bacon at once. Yeah.

So if this is a sign of the times, and my metabolism is starting to die off, I need to know STAT. Then I might have to do crazy things like limiting how much I eat and believing in calories. Oh the horror… I’m not ready for this. I’m too young! I have too much to live for!!

For Love of the Game

Ever since I said the magic words “Oregon Trail” I have been absolutely dying to play the game. Then, while driving I passed a sign that said “Settlers,” and as that was a game I played around the same time I’ve since been craving the chance to play it. This threw me into full out game nostalgia mode. Thus I have decided to do the neek thing and dedicate a post to some of my favorite games over the years.

Some you may recognize, some are obscure, and some are rather mock-worthy.

Let’s start with the classic! The Oregon Trail is quite frankly a fabulous game. It’s based on some for realz history, which means it’s totally acceptable to play in school, without being a stupid math game. Score! People also tend to die, which makes it far more fun. My favorite part was naming my fellow passengers after a mix of people I loved and hated, and seeing which ones survived. And while I normally cannot deal with any kind of animal violence (even in video games) it was actually really fun to shoot all the animals when you were running low on supplies. It taught you not to be greedy too! If you shot too many you’d end up still only carrying half the meat home.

Now thinking about the Oregon Trail inevitably makes me think of Settlers. I played both games around the same time. Settlers was on one of those discs we got monthly (ish) with free previews of games. This meant you could play only to a certain point. Settlers is a bit similar to Civilization. You start by settling on this new land, and you have to spread out your settlement, creating things like pig farms, mints, and mines. The little people were adorable. You could see the supplies traveling between points on the road to make it to where the supplies were needed, so that was pretty fun too. Sadly I was just reminiscing about this game with my brother, and he said he tried to find it recently and it would require something-something-terms-I-don’t-understand-but-the-word-“bit”-might-have-been-involved to run on computers nowadays. Jerkfaces haven’t made a new version. Someday I may write them a letter.

Another computer game I started playing around that age was Catz. My parents thought this would help keep me from constantly bugging them for more animals. It kinda worked. The virtual pets were fun. Of course the part I most enjoyed was breeding them to get new adorable kittens. That way I could mix the breeds up to get interesting new types. Plus it would chart the family history, which for some reason amused me. Granted, in retrospect that’s kind of a weird aspect of a game designed for kids. When you wanted kittens you’d get a male and female cat out at the same time, and then you had to make sure they liked each other. You could help set the mood with some heart-shaped pillows, perfume, and candy. Weird, right?

Moving away from computer games momentarily, let’s look at some multiplayer games. There were few games that my brother and I could actually play together without devolving into outright war. One was called Herc’s Adventures, and it was AMAZING. I loved Greek mythology, and this game was a weird mix of ancient Greek gods & heroes, and aliens. Yes, aliens. Initially we didn’t even own it. We rented it for our Playstation and played endlessly. Of course eventually we’d hit the same point where I’d die a lot and give up. My brother was actually the only one to finish the game. It had many aspects that appealed to me though. For one thing, there was actually a FEMALE character I could play. I don’t know about other girls, but it drives me batty when I have to play a guy. I find this intriguing. Did you know that when taking tests, statistically girls respond the same whether the test uses girl or guy names in the examples, but guys respond better to same gender names? On the other hand, in my personal experience guys seem more than happy to run around as girls in video games. At least they seem to do it a lot in WoW. Someday I must poll the larger world to see how other girls feel about playing games as male characters.

 Since we’re discussing both Playstation games and games I could play with my brother (without wanting to kill him in the real world), let’s also talk about Twisted Metal. We actually initially started playing Twisted Metal II, which was my favorite. I believe at some point we did end up with the original Twisted Metal, but I still prefer II. We could play against each other, or as a team. It’s one of the few games that I don’t horrible suck at. Outlaw was my preferred character (which also might explain my preference for II over I; in I Outlaw is a guy named Carl, in II it’s his sister, Jamie). Sometimes I’d switch it up though and play Minion, because it was easier to squish the other contestants. I’ve recently been trying to find TM II again because I really loved the game (Mom made us go through some game purges over the years, and at some point it got sacrificed) but I can’t find it. I did get Twisted Metal: Heads On, but it’s kinda meh. Of course when I say I’m trying to “find” the game, I mean I look for it when I’m in a store. I have this really weird thing where I’ll only buy stuff I really want if I happen to run across it, I won’t search online or anything (which is why I also don’t own things like the Drive Me Crazy movie I’ve been wanting to re-watch for forever).

We’ll finish with my absolute favorite game ever. That would be Mario Party. I LOVE Mario Party. How can you not? I mean it’s a combination of every possible good thing from video and board games. You move around an interesting, themed (cuz I love me some fun themes) board. There is some strategy required. There is also some dumb luck. Then there is some skill necessary when you do the mini-games. You can do everything right and lose. You can do everything wrong and win. Normally, you do a mix and get really angry. Mario Party is the reason in high school we frequently said “medieval.” As in, “You dummy, why the heck did you just go medieval on me!?!” after the dummy in question shoots you during a mini-game. This also became the game in college where we most frequently used the phrase “cheating whore.” It actually originated for us playing Skip-Bo, but quickly became a Mario Party catch phrase when we’d play 50 game rounds and near the end everyone started screaming “YOU CHEATING WHORE YOU STOLE MY STAR.” True story – sophomore year of college our worst housemate fights were 100% started by Mario Party games.

Sadly I do not own any of the Mario Party games. My brother briefly owned them, but due to some shenanigans with an evil ex-girlfriend they are lost forever. My college roomie had them, but she felt it necessary to grow up and get married and all that good stuff, so I lost access. I’ve been debating for a while whether I want to go out and buy a GameCube. All my favorite versions were on the GameCube. I don’t particularly want a Wii, because while the new ones are on Wii I’m not in love with the stupid controllers.

Mario Party actually caused me one of my saddest moments this year. The sequence went like this:

I was over at a friend’s house

saw a Mario Party game box

knew this friend would be cool with me basically taking over their house to play

got super excited

opened the box

discovered the game was missing

turned to the friend

found out THEY LOST IT YEARS AGO.

Way to crush my fragile moment of pure happiness. I have secretly knocked points off their mental brownie score because of this instance.

Don't Mess with the Bull, Young Man

This week was the birthday for one of my other good friends from college. I almost missed it, because they don’t have it listed on Facebook. Seriously, that’s like 67% of the reason I use Facebook- to track birthdays.

I can honestly say that there are only 4 birthdays that I have completely memorized. If somebody threatened my life unless I could give them 5 birthdays immediately, I’d be doomed.

One is my brother’s. This is probably in large part due to the fact that my grandparents used to give me presents on his birthday too. Another is my mother’s. The only reason I know this one, is because the day is the same as mine, and I know the month. Don’t even try to get me to tell you the year. I’m sure whatever answer I come up with will mortally offend my mother should she ever hear.

You would think my daddy would be another one, but actually, no. I know it to a few days (again, ignoring the whole year thing). I can normally figure it out, but it takes a few minutes. I second guess myself. Initially I think it’s the 20^th, then the 21^st, then I’m like no it’s the 19^th, because I would remember if it’s the 21^st and it’s not the 20^th, and I keep going through this process until I make a final decision.

The other two birthdays are my friend Cortney’s, and my godson’s. The only reason I remember Cortney’s is because it coincides with one of my bad luck days. My godson’s birthday, I just know. Sadly I DO NOT have the birthdates for my goddaughters memorized… but nobody needs to tell them that. I know the general range of time. Plus my godson was born first. He gets priority (but again, nobody needs to tell my goddaughters).

Really, it is mildly cruel to expect a mildly dyslexic person to remember anything involving a string of numbers. Don’t even get me started on the issues I’ve had with my new cell number (and by new, I mean from last August…) or with switching my address.

It vexes me though because I LOVE celebrating other people’s birthdays. It’s one of my favorite things. I also like celebrating them ON THE ACTUAL BIRTHDAY.

The good news is I have a trick for remembering birthdays. The bad news is it only really helps me get within a week or two.

Love me some Raj

See, I happen to like astrology. Not to be confused with astronomy, the actually scientific field of studying space-things like Raj does in Big Bang Theory. No, I’m talking horoscopes. I love ‘em. I always have at least one horoscope app for daily ones, I have multiple books about the general signs, and at the end of the day that’s one of the things I’m going to remember about you. What’s your star sign, baby <insert suggestive leer>.

Each sign is broken up over 2 different months. So if you’re born between April 21 and May 21 you’re a Taurus, like me. Because of this, I can typically remember someone’s sign and birth month, to get to the general range of their birthday.

I sense that at this moment, some of you might be judging me. That’s okay. It’s a pretty typical reaction.

I’m not saying I super follow horoscopes. I don’t check necessarily every day. I don’t exactly base my life decisions off them. I’m not saying they’re true for everyone. It just so happens that I agree with mine, and I know several of my friends fit their zodiac sign perfectly.

One of my coworkers Krystal argues that the descriptions for each sign are vague, so that you could match any of them.

Well okay, let’s discuss this.

Some of the general traits for Sagittarius are:

-Positive, happy-go-lucky

-Impatient

-Impulsive

-Nature/animal lover

-Super ambitious

-Candid (kinda tactless)

That IS NOT me. I mean maybe you could argue that I’m a pretty positive person as well, but I am definitely not who I first think of when I read that description.

On the other hand, that’s almost a perfect description of my brother. Guess what my brother’s sign is? Yeah that’s right, Sagittarius.

Now you might not match every single trait for your sign. This is partly due to the fact that most people just look for their Sun sign, and ignore their Moon sign, which can play a part. I match my Sun sign so well that I feel comfortable ignoring anything else.

And while whenever the topic of horoscopes come up, people tend to laugh at me, within SECONDS they are asking me what their sign is and what it means about them. This has happened to me with women, men, old people, youngins, and serious skeptics. It’s like they have to deny it first, but then the curiosity is too much. And since they already denied it, if they don’t like what I say they can laugh it off again.

Not that I have every sign memorized at this point. Most of my friends have always been the same few signs, so those are the ones I really know.

And, of course, I know my Taurus traits, because I am such a Taurus.

Just a few common Taurus traits, both good & bad:

Physically, Taurus people are stocky (or for women, busty), have hair that is naturally curly or wavy, and have very large eyes.

There are very few Taurus traits I don’t have, but one is such a prominent trait that it saddens me. Taurus individuals generally have very distinctive voices, because that is the area ruled by our sign. They are often wonderful singers or speakers. As I’ve mentioned before, my voice sucks. It’s far too childish. Really, the only good thing you can say about it is that it’s incredibly expressive.

Ah well, none of us can be perfect.

(Not Quite) Falling Off the Wagon

The word “wagon” inevitably makes me thing of the Oregon Trail. This is mostly due to the game, Oregon Trail. Spectacular game. I used to play it for hours. It kept you on your toes, that’s for sure. One minute everything is fine and dandy, and the next your axle cracked, an oxen died, you’re almost out of food, and oh by the way Jim-Bob got dysentery. Fabulous.

So when I think of the phrase “falling off the wagon” my mental image is always a little cartoon person hanging on to the wagons from the Oregon Trail (and if you played the game, specifically it’s the image that came up while fording the river) as they slowly slip off. This week, that little cartoon person was me.

Now you’re probably wondering at this point what I could possibly be addicted to. I seem so normal, right? But as I have actually mentioned before I’m currently recovering from a serious diet pepsi addiction. And for whatever reason, this past week the universe decided to tempt me at every possible opportunity.

I know, I know, it’s diet pepsi. It’s not like I’m addicted to something super harmful. I am fully aware that there are far worse addictions out there. But are you fully aware how much I CRAVE just a sip of diet pepsi?

Since I gave up the stuff last summer, I have had it all of 3 times. Every time I considered my options before having any, deciding that it was acceptable due to the circumstances (things like there were no other drinks available). It might seem then like it was no big deal if I slipped up and had one this week as well. But it is my friend. Oh, how it is.

Let’s start by explaining why I was craving it so much. I was traveling for work last week, and we were out in a classically HOT state. Of course these days which states haven’t been feeling the heat… but where we were it was about 108 degrees or hotter every day. Which meant that obviously, I would prefer to drink something cold. Drinks were provided, but the options were limited. It was coke products, tea, or coffee.

I was drinking tea, because I needed the caffeine. We were quite busy running amuck all week, and I was tired. Plus I don’t sleep well when I know I need to wake up early, I don’t sleep well when someone is in the room with me (I secretly fear someday assaulting someone in my sleep), and both of those circumstances applied to the whole week.

So while I was drinking tea, I really wanted to drink something cold. Typically when I want a cold caffeinated beverage these days I turn to iced tea. Well, they had none. Ok, I’m flexible, next option would be a Mountain Dew. As I said, they were serving COKE products. No Mountain Dew available. I mean I drink Sprite sometimes, but not when I need my caffeine fix! There was allegedly a coffee cart somewhere selling iced coffee, which would be acceptable, but note the word “selling” as opposed to the free drink options. I’m a bit of a Scrooge. I find it almost impossible to convince myself to buy things when I have a free option, so this really wasn’t an option at all.

Which meant I was stuck with hot tea all week.

This probably wouldn’t have been so bad, but I swear every person that walked up to me was drinking a diet coke. Sometimes they would pour it into a glass of ice in front of me. Oh, how the sight of the glorious dark liquid swirling around those ice cubes stirred my blood. Sometimes they would actually open the can right in front of me. Little known fact: on a job interview they once asked me for my favorite sound in the world. I said the “pop” sound of a pepsi can being opened. You can guess then the effect when everyone is opening their cans around me.

I struggled on. Granted, I complained about it a lot to others. They mostly ignored me. It’s not easy when no one takes your addiction seriously.

I suppose it could have been worse. It could have been pepsi products available. Except then I would have had mountain dew. And even if I didn’t, my resolve would have been stronger.

That sounds odd, doesn’t it? My resolve would have been stronger for the drink I PREFER. Well honestly of those 3 times I’ve had diet pop since last June, only 1 was diet pepsi. And that was actually caffeine free diet pepsi. The other times I had coke, because frankly I don’t think it’s as good, so I didn’t think there was as much of an opportunity for me to go crazy and suck up every sip of diet coke on the premises.

Which means that last week I was constantly justifying it to myself. “Oh, it’s just diet coke. No big deal. I don’t want it as much, so I’ll be able to stop.” “Everyone else is drinking it and they’re fine, surely I can just have one.” “Who cares if I have a diet coke, it’s not hurting anybody…”

And this my friends, is why I held onto that mental wagon and did not end up having a single diet coke (or regular coke, or coke of any form) last week. Because listening to myself, I still sound like an addict. Because I know while having just one really isn’t a big deal, for me, it’s very possible that it will be a gateway to having one next week, then the week after, then next thing you know I’m back to 10 a day or worse.

Btw, addictions suck. Even the ones to "harmless" things like pop.

Getting to Know You

My friend (/coworker/mentor/secret twin) Erin commented recently with her own version of the Relatively Short Questionnaire. We discussed it in more depth, as I actually was unfamiliar with the Traveling Wilburys. I had to google it, and then I was like “why didn’t I know this??” (story of my life).

And this brought up a discussion about other get-to-know-you type questions. Erin’s questions involve a lot of music. I can totally see this. Erin is very music-chic. One of her superpowers is being able to make you the perfect mixed tape/CD. She demonstrated this by making me country mixes when I decided to move to Texas. I HATED country music. It was the only type of music I was passionately against. That is, until I listened to Erin’s CDs!

I, however, go to great lengths to avoid music questions. Both asking them, and answering.

It’s not that I don’t like music. I do! In fact one of the reasons I don’t mind long drives is that I can plug in my iPod and jam out for hours.

But as I've said before, I’m weird about music. First of all, in general I cannot correctly identify artists or songs to save my life. I recognize the music. In fact, I’m good at recognizing even things played really low that other people can’t hear. But ask me to name a song or artist and I’ll just stare at you blankly before spouting random answers. This doesn’t just apply to things playing on the radio. I do the same with stuff on my iPod.

Additionally, my taste in music is just weird, as is the way I prefer to listen to it. I couldn’t deal with the radio for years, so I would make CDs for myself. As my brother often says, if the artists on my CDs heard the whole thing and specifically the songs before/after their song, they might kill me. I like variety. So a CD might start with a pop song, then go rock, rap, random Japanese song… you get the picture.

This is why I can’t function listening to just one radio station. Even the ones that pride themselves on “variety” aren’t varied enough for my tastes. It took me awhile to get into Pandora for the same reason. The only way I could get Pandora to work for me was to create 6 different stations (Blackest Eyes, Stitches, Untouched, Undisclosed Desires, Volbeat, E.T.) which I play on shuffle. Oh and did I mention that I also added random songs to those stations? So for example my “Undisclosed Desires” station (great track by Muse!) also has seed songs like “Dirty Dancer” and “Still Alive.” This is the only way I can get a proper mix, and I still find myself frequently disliking songs (no matter how many times you try Pandora, I will still HATE “Wonderwall”).

For years I couldn’t even answer the most common music questions, like “what’s your favorite band?” I didn’t have one! There are very few bands/artists where I enjoy the majority of their work. Typically I pick and choose which songs I like. This is one reason why I love the advent of the Apple music store. Thank goodness I no longer have to buy a whole CD, I can just buy a song or two.  And let’s not even talk about how now that I finally have a favorite band, they disbanded and there have been all sorts of legal battles over who will continue, who can use the name… ugh.

You have no idea how many times I've watched this

So what kind of get-to-know-you questions do I like to ask? Well about my other favorite neek interests – movies and tv. Who’s your favorite Mighty Morphin Power Ranger? What was your favorite cartoon growing up?  Star Trek or Star Wars? Ya know, the common ones.

The problem I’ve found is what to do with those answers. Shared interests do not mean compatibility. I have found this over and over again. I’m not just talking about dating either. It’s the same for friends.

I’ve tried opposites, I’ve tried same-to-the-point-of-being-clones. I think there needs to be a balance, but I’m not sure what the perfect formula is, if there is one. Something like

28% same favorite movies

15 % different music tastes

7 % food arguments

34 % same sense of humor

11 % dissimilar upbringings

= <3?

Sure doesn’t equal 100%

But regardless I think I like get-to-know-you questions because I can judge people based on their answers. Not that the answers are right or wrong, but I can still judge. You like the original BLUE RANGER?? Really?! Your favorite cartoon was Ren & Stimpy?? Over wonderful 90s classics like Doug and Hey Arnold! Yes, I’m judging you now.

For the record, the green/white ranger was my favorite, and while it’s a tough pick, overall I think The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest was my favorite cartoon. After all, it’s the only one I woke up at freaking 7 AM to watch before school.

The Relatively Short Questionnaire (Relative to the SATs)

 This past week I was lucky enough to get to hang with a bunch of my college friends. I almost said “old college friends” but we are not old, nor do we want to be referred to that way. I know a lot of people lose touch after college so I was super glad to get a chance to see them. We ate a lot (something we’ve always enjoyed doing together), had a True Blood Fest, and reminisced. It was while reminiscing that the Relatively Short Questionnaire was brought up.

Honestly, I had forgotten about it. Of course I seem to forget most of our college hijinks, despite the fact that 9 times out of 10 I’m the one blamed (responsible) for them. Originally it was just me and my friend Jenn in the car remembering it fondly. And by that, I mean laughing hysterically while trying not to drive off the road. We then had to share it with everyone else, because it’s just that good.

The Relatively Short Questionnaire started as an effort to help out some of our housemates. A few of them had some man trouble. They picked awful people to start relationships with, and then were shocked when they failed. While consoling them, we started saying that maybe we should get to help them decide whether or not a boy was worth dating.

I don’t think anyone expected me to retire to my room for the night, and the next day proudly start promoting the Relatively Short Questionnaire as the solution. I’m fairly sure I actually wrote all of it myself. Which is scary. If you read through the questions, you might start questioning my mental state. But there was a point to it! The idea was to get some basic important information, and at the same time, see how the man would respond to the fact that it’s long, politically incorrect, and completely random.

Because of course when you first meet a guy they’re on their best behavior (which I just spelled the British way before autocorrect yelled at me… weird. I’ve been reading too much Wuthering Heights). To know if they’re actually a good guy for the long term, you need to really push them past their comfort zone. Thus the beauty of the Relatively Short Questionnaire!

Now technically, the name of the quiz is Important Questionnaire Which Ascertains the Honorability of the Man Creature.  We started calling it the Relatively Short Questionnaire as it’s easier to say. Plus, it ties in with the basic call & response when you give a man the questionnaire. You say “don’t you want to take this quiz? It’s relatively short?” They grunt and nod, and then after getting a third of the way start swearing about how it’s not short at all. That’s when you say “It IS relatively short! Relative to the SATs!”

After creating the Relatively Short Questionnaire, we figured out how it would work. Men would take it, and we would grade their answers on a point scale, and then calculate the total number of points and create an average or some such thing. I’m fuzzy on those details. Jenn was the math major, and the one responsible for that aspect.

Of course a score wouldn’t do us any good without something to compare it to, so we rounded up some friends/boyfriends/brothers/acquaintances to take the new questionnaire.

Most of the guys that took it were some how familiar and tied to at least one of us housemates, so it’s not a huge surprise we could make them take it. But at one point our housemate Ann found some guy she knew from class outside playing basketball, and she talked him into taking it too. I don’t even remember his name. It wasn’t like they were actually even friends! But this is how dedicated we were to the questionnaire. We needed a large response set.

Sadly, we don’t still have the majority of these responses. We printed the quiz out on paper and never scanned the answers. They must have been tossed when we moved out.

Also sadly, the idea of the questionnaire never exactly played out. See, the thing was, as much as we liked reading the responses, we never wanted to sit down and grade one all the way through.

The other issue was that the grades were subjective. We gave points on a 5 point scale I believe. Each housemate gave a grade for each question. But past that, it was totally up to them what they wanted to do. For instance, there’s a question about Tom Brady on the questionnaire. I hate Tom Brady. So any kind of favorable Tom Brady mention got 0 or 1 points from me automatically. However, no one else hated Tom Brady. So they scored on things like loquaciousness, spelling, etc. Same thing with the question about sticking gum under the table. Big deal to me and Jenn, not an issue for anyone else.

Sometimes we got into arguments. Especially if we were grading somebody we wanted to have a decent score, and then someone gave a low grade for something stupid. Sometimes we debated over the interpretation of an answer, as that could change the score. All in all it became very time consuming, and although we faithfully read all of the answers, I don’t think we ever fully graded a single questionnaire.

The thing is, talking with my friends about the Relatively Short Questionnaire raised a point that was really hammered home when I came back and found it on my computer. Because, Honest And True Time, I am apparently a douchebag.

Yes, friends, it’s true. I knew that in college we did some pretty jerkface stuff, but I always assumed it was just want happened when we were all together. Now I’m starting to suspect it’s really my influence. I mean it’s funny to reminiscence, it’s funny to reread the Relatively Short Questionnaire, but really? I wrote that??

I feel like I need a douchebag jar just like Schmidt on New Girl. No wonder he’s my favorite character.

In closing, I’ll leave you with the link to the Relatively Short Questionnaire in case you want to check it out. I warn you though, the faint of heart need not click. Additionally, I’m also linking you to one of our favorite answer sets, the responses of housemate Jenna’s boyfriend, who we’ll call Fitzwilliam. I have removed his name & birthdate, but it otherwise is unchanged. Keep in mind, Fitzwilliam liked to believe he was evil, badass, and violent. 

Meanwhile despite my Honest And True Time realization, I feel compelled to have all new people take the Relatively Short Questionnaire, so I might start bugging all my males friends.