Well There It Is.

Life is a very strange experience. It is often crazy, sad, lonely, joyous, funny, silly, unfortunate, strange, beautiful, and sick. Sometimes it is long, sometimes inexplicably short. But a grand majority of the time it is just f-cked up.

Take, for example, yesterday. I believe that I messed up pretty much every decision that came my way, with the possible exception of my outfit and the time I chose to eat crackers and coke when I felt whiffly. And, if you talk to Candice (or anyone who was at work last night, for that matter) you'll understand why. I'm not going to go into it, but to fully illstrate the way I felt, let me use an example from the funniest (and most frighteningly similar) movie I have seen lately. If you've yet seen Just Friends, there's this part where he just got together with the girl he's been in love with his whole life. The poor, misdirected fool was just trying to make a good impression. That's all he was trying to do. But instead, he pretty much botched every chance he got. The part of the movie to which I would like to recall is where he drops her off, and gets in the car. He then goes completely crazy, hitting himself in the face, yelling "Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" and then goes on for five minutes of even more humiliating shennanagins to fully illustrate to himself what an idiot he is for blowing it. (He is, of course, totally oblivious to the fact that the woman he loves is still standing right outside the window.) The thing is, I totally understood how he felt. Because that is exactly how I felt pretty much all night yesterday.

And to top it all off, I have no idea what I'm doing with my life. I have an internship that I've verbally committed to but do not yet know if it's even the right decision, I'm contemplating leaving all of my dearest friends just to escape this town, I have no prospects, my relationships are either freaking maddening or practically non-existant, I'm running out of money, patience, and sanity, oh--and the guy that I thought would be my eternal companion is now engaged to the [insert degrading female slur here] that he cheated on me with and dumped me for less than three months ago. Am I upset? Not too badly. Aside from the fact that all of my friends refuse to get my very drunk and the fact that I probably shouldn't be left alone for awhile, I'm prompted to laugh. Because damn, life is funny.

You Know What They Say About Assumptions

I'm sure everyone has heard the noveau adage about the implications of what it means to assume. So I'm not going to repeat it. But I am going to attempt to refute the universal nature of this creedo, as I have in my life come to experience many situations that require assumption in order to survive, if not simply to avoid various forms of disaster. Although many people will agree that, in theory, assuming is wrong, I firmly believe that there are times when making a bold assumption is all you can--and should--do.

Let's take in the case of the absent neighbor. You're trying to drop of a package of Christmas goodies, but you find to your dismay that the lights are not on and no one appears to be home. You knock, no one answers. Now, at this point it would be most safe to simply assume that no one is present, and continue on your way. And in this case I think many would agree. But then there are those so completely devoted to anti-assumption that they would take this situation personally, and so would then do everything in their power to avoid the assumption of a neighbor's absence, and instead follow a Sherlock Holmes type method of actually proving that no one was available, even implementing rather stalkerish and psychotic methods as necessary. (Such as climbing the back fence, skirting the rabid and foaming guard dog, and checking if the back door is unlocked, peeking in windows as well.) I however am not one of those lunatics.

So, when presented with a situation such as the current one, I find it safer and more efficient to make an assumption or two. Let's say, for instance, that a guy had acted like he was extremely interested in you. He asked you out, tentatively at first, and when met with polite rejection on your part, he tried again. Even when it was at the least convenience to himself, he dropped all he was doing to spend time with you, and was incredibly sweet, charming, cute, and interested the whole time. He picks you up and carries you so that you don't get your little feet wet, and sings you a song from his favorite Christmas collection. After a while, even your cold and unfeeling manhater heart begins to slightly melt. When he walks you to the door, you expect him to do the typical guy thing and try to get some action before it's too late, but instead, he gives you a nice embrace and departs like a gentleman, thanking you for the experience. Now, at this point, I'm sure that many people would be saying it's safe to assume that this guy likes you quite a bit. However, many people are stupid.

Flash foreward to about three days later. You've gone home to another state for Christmas. You try not to hope that he'll call, because experience has taught you that even the most Prince Charming of guys often don't. So the streetwize half of you expects nothing. But the little girl inside thinks, maybe....? So for a few days, you secretly hope. But then you realize that this is one of those situations where you would normally assume that when a week goes by and he doesn't call, he's not interested. Then you make that assumption and move on.

Yet another case of how a safe assumption can act as a guard against potential heartbreak, as well as saving you the time and humiliation of hopping the fence.

The Trouble With Love Is... It Takes Two to Tango?

So, recent dilemma. (Candice, I believe that you somewhat share this particular one, and so maybe you can tell me what the freak to do. Everyone else, feel free to give me good advice also.) First I'm going to start off with an analogy (I love analogies).

Let's say that you've gone for a really long while without eating cake. But that's not because you don't love cake and want cake, but you just haven't had access to cake in a really long time and maybe there's other cake but you just haven't seen any that you particularly want to eat. Maybe because all the cake lately has coconut on it and you're allergic. So. Anyway, the reason you got addicted, (or let's just say you started wishing you ever had cake) was because you once found what you thought was the all-time perfect cake, and you loved it and it tasted just yummy. But then that cake went bad one day without warning. This caused you to firstly, distrust cake. Even those cakes that may have been very tasty you turned away with hardly a second look, because it just wasn't that cake. So now you feel like there just might be a few kinds of cake that you'd like to try that might not turn out to be all that bad. (Even though you still secretly feel that no cake will ever be as good as that first cake.) But you decide to take a chance anyway, and boldly go back out into the cake tasting world. (You know what? I'm really liking this whole cake analogy thing and so I think I'll just continue explaining it thus.)

Now, here is the problem. First, it takes a while to find any cake at all that isn't someone else's cake, and usually the cake that's left alone either has something seriously wrong with it, or could. Secondly, you discover that there is some leftover cake that you've had around forever that might not taste as bad as you thought it did, and so you contemplate eating the leftover cake. However, just as you're warming to the idea that you might even actually like leftover cake, another cake comes along that looks a lot better, but you don't know that much about it and maybe it will go bad like the first cake did. Also, you feel bad because wouldn't it just be easier and cheaper to eat the leftover cake? After all, why spring for a big brand new cake when you might not be able to afford it, and there's somewhat good cake that you could get for free? Also, what if you eat the leftover cake and it's okay but you realize it's not the cake for you, so you spend the rest of your days wondering what that other cake might've been like? And what if the leftover cake is always staring you in the face saying "why didn't you eat me?" because you chose the new cake instead? Will you feel guilt?

Who knew that "have your cake and eat it too" was so freaking complicated!? Help!!!

Educational Diagram of Why Dating Sucks

Now, kids. Do either of these people look happy?

Don't argue. It's science.

It's Thursday, time for Rant of the Week!

Okay, so here's the beef for today. Dating sucks. There's my thesis statement. I will now proceed to tell you all what brought this sentiment on, and then go into precisely why I have made this assertion.

For one thing, last weekend I missed (most thankfully) the wedding of two of my childhood friends. They together make a grand total of five people that I grew up with who have bitten the proverbial matrimonial dust. This is a very depressing thing. Now, before you protest, (and I know what you're thinking: "Ronny, what the crap are you complaining about? You're 19, and you being not married is in NO way depressing." And in this I would concur. However, shut up now so I can finish what I was saying, you.) let me explain why I find this depressing. I do not think that it is sad that they are married and I am not, because we both know that I will never marry and stop trying to make me. I am saddened, because these two individuals have dated only eachother since they were small, and now they are done with dating entirely, after barely any experience in the modern dating world. I, on the other hand, also have very little experience in the modern dating world, but unlike them, I still look foreward to a long, aggrivating, grueling, stressful, and quite possibly painful road just littred with the kind of crap that they now get to avoid. Unfair? Most definitely.
Why? Because dating sucks. The preceding statement is based on over five years of experience on my own part, giving me the qualifications to make that judgment. I'm not saying that it sucks for everybody, all the time, (but I'm going to imply that I think a lot of people feel the way I do on this matter) but just for the sake of leaving the straw man in peace, let's just say I'm right. If done correctly, I suppose that it could be a really fun custom. But rather like all ancient and simplistic traditions, the pure and fun nature of dating has since been corrupted and turned into a sick and twisted game, in which the players set out strategies, try to confuse and mislead their opponent, and fight for ultimate control. In a way, dating has become like Risk, or Monopoly. In the beginning, we all join because we think it will be fun, and who knows, we might win this time. But the more experienced players, as well as the devious game itself, knows that we are fools for the taking. The game starts innocently enough, but soon becomes tedious and difficult, and we soon realize that we're either going to have to risk it all, lose everything, or both. In short, we will either wind up forfieting, or "getting the s*** kicked out of us by love" as a famous poet once said. I for one would rather not play by these rules. Why can't we just kick a can, like in the old days, hmm??? Why must it all be so friggin complicated? I quit.

All Work and No Dead Week Makes for Cranky BYU Students...

Okay, so I've revently been appraised of a long-standing custom which has apparently and unfortunately not yet reached BYU. What is this "dead week"??? As I understand, it is a time between having assignments due and finals week, a time in which students are generally allowed freedom from having anything due, so that they can more adequately draw breath and then commence preparation for finals. A marvelous theory, when you consider that people who are not burnt out from writing papers as well as under mucho stress will probably do better on pressurized mental examinations. What a freaking concept.
So, the pertinant question here seems to be: Why the heck hasn't this custom yet reached BYU? I mean, my goodness. It's like they've never heard of stress induced apoplexy, or the negative effects of sleep loss on the mental state of post adolescents. As far as I can tell, our equivalent of a "dead week" or the closest we have so far come, is the week before finals where almost every big paper and assignment is due (which happens to be this week, by the way) which I like to refer to as the "I wish I was dead week" or the "Somebody please shoot me or give me another Coke or both week". I suppose the first one is more concise. Anyway. Wouldn't it be nice, if the student saints could have a little breather before they are brutally attacked with the next thing?
I for one think that this should be implemented. And soon.