Disney Mythology - Take That Walt!

As per my promise from last week, I have decided to deconstruct the happy endings of some of my favorite Disney movies. I was once told that Disney fairytales are to blame for the utter insane demands that women place on their relationships. If we lose a shoe, we demand it be returned as part of some grand romantic gesture; if we are somehow outsmarted by a loom we hope that our boyfriends would battle a gigantic dragon to save us; and we would only hope that he would forego his need for oxygen to defend our honor against a giant octopus.

As girls, we hope to find a man willing to sacrifice all to be with us. We believe in the undying ability of love to make people do extraordinary things. Then, we grow up. We realize that men are inherently lazy creatures who won't get off the recliner to do a dish let alone travel across the countryand battle mythological, fire-breathing creatures. Disney movies lie. Not only have I never met a man willing to go above and beyond, but I have also never had a bird land on my finger and sing to me. Bullshit.

So, the three movies I have decided to concentrate on in this blog (even though there are so many) are the following:

Beauty and the Beast

OK, so after Belle ineffectually fights off a group of fire wielding villagers, the Beast turns into this incredibly sexy prince who then wants nothing more than to be with her. They dance as a throng of adoring faces watches on. First of all, any man that good looking would never settle down right away, especially when he's spent the last however many years looking like a giant bear. He would want to "explore", "date around", see what else that provincial town has for him to sink his teeth into. While Belle is beautiful, she is a little homely and would no doubt return post-break-up to her father's cockamamey cottage, using the mirror to stalk the prince every chance she gets. She winds up alone, a local librarian who refuses to stock fairytales. No happy ending here.

Sleeping Beauty

First of all, he falls in love with her because he finds her singing the following lyrics in the middle of the forest: "I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream. I know you, the gleam in your eyes is so familiar a gleam. Yes, I know it's truethat visions are seldom all they seem, But if I know you, I know what you'll do, You'll love me at oncethe way you did once upon a dream." First of all, there is nothing endearing about singing to yourself and various forms of wildlife. It makes you crazy, not enchanting. Secondly, all any man would have to hear is that this crazy woman is also waiting with bated breath for a man she has only met in her dreams. Fantastic. Actually, I am going to try this in Central Park at some point. I will capture an owl and a squirrel, sing this song, and wait for a tall, blonde, modelesque man to join me in the chorus. Oh wait. I have to make the following distinction - he must be straight. See? Won't ever happen.

Little Mermaid

So, Prince Eric falls in love with Ariel regardless of the fact that she doesn't have a voicebox. This makes complete sense - I think all of my male friends wish that their girlfriend's fortuitously lost their ability to speak. This is not hard to believe. What is hard to believe is that after Eric abandons Ariel (because he is "hypnotized" by Ursula), Ariel takes him back. Yeah, OK. She would convince herself that he jumped ship (sorry, couldn't resist the pun) because of Ursula's otherworldly skills in the bedroom, be unable to forgive him and retaliate by finding herslef a very sexy, very available merman. Her "whole new world" would be one "undah da sea". Sebastian would be ecstatic.

Died and Gone to Heaven

I recently purchased a book called (and I am trying my best to contain myself here) Woody Allen and Philosophy [You Mean My Whole Fallacy Is Wrong?] It is an assortment of philosophical essays attempting to understand Allen's work through the ideas of various philosophers. One particular article immediately caught my attention: God, Suicide, and the Meaning of Life by Mark T. Conrad. Citing various films, Conrad attempts to show that romantic relationships are mere distractions, futile efforts to forget how meaningless our lives actually are.

I turn your attention to two quotes given by Conrad from Allen's movies September and "God (A Play)" respectively:

PETER: You feel so sure of that when you look out on a clear night like tonight and see all those millions of stars? That none of it matters?"

LLOYD: I think it's just as beautiful as you do, and vaguely evocative of some deep truth that always just keeps slipping away, but then my professional perspective overcomes me, a less wishful, more penetrating view of it, and I understand it for what it truly is: haphazard, morally neutral, and unimaginably violent.

PETER: Look, we shouldn't have this conversation. I have to sleep alone tonight.

DORIS: But without God, the universe is meaningless. Life is meaningless. We're meaningless. (Deadly pause) I have a sudden and overpowering urge to get laid.

In the first conversation, the idea that the universe is completely random and in effect, without meaning, immediately turns to the fear of being alone. The fact that one has to face the harsh truth of life without the distraction of a romantic relationship is frightening - Peter does not want to sleep alone. Like a child, he cannot imagine going to sleep without someone near him. Our relationships are our night-lights - they are something to focus on as we attempt to find rest in the blackness of everyday existence.

Now, you may say, "No! Our relationships are the things that provide meaning and worth to our lives. Conrad (and I frankly) would disagree. According to Conrad, "[according to Allen] Since value and meaning could only be provided by, or exist as, some external or permanent [bold is mine] feature of the universe, and since our individual projects and lives can by no means produce something eternal and permanent, these projects can never produce meaning and value. Consequently, as I've said, these pursuits are - at best - mere distractions." And, if I haven't said anything in my last 10 or so posts, I have at least shown that I find romantic relationships to be, above all, incredibly transient.

Doris says the exact same thing - coming to terms with the meaningless of all pursuits, she needs distraction. Her choice? Sex. Why not? Isn't the superficial connection with another human being better than facing the utter meaninglessness of life? I certainly think so. It's much more enjoyable and doesn't lead to suicide when done drunk. PERFECT!

The Monotony of Monogamy

I cannot take full credit for the brilliance that is the title of this blog - all hail my brother. Now, because this topic almost overwhelmed me, I will most likely tackle it in two parts. Today - Part One.

I read recently on Nerve.com's dating confessions something to the effect of: "Online dating is all about the tangibles. But true love is all about the intangibles. Therefore, the two are diametrically opposed." While I agree with this statement, I have to say that love is very much like a banana left in a paper bag too long - It goes from barely sweet, to perfectly ripe, and then completely rotten before you have a chance to enjoy it.

Is this not exactly what occurs in a relationship? When you first meet someone, you're aware that you are in the mood for a banana. Is it this banana? Not sure. As the liking grows, the banana ripens - it becomes sweeter, more palatable. And then, before you know it, it's rotten and completely inedible. This process can take place over the course of a month, a year, or 10 years...the point is, the inevitability of eventually having to deal with a rotten fruit is something we accept when we choose to get into a relationship with someone.

When seeing a couple embrace, all I can think is, "yeah, it's great until it's not anymore." There is something to be said for the perception of romantic relationships - it shifts dramatically depending upon your experience, as well as your current romantic situation. Yes, I am single, and yes, I have had my fair share of long-term relationships. Therefore, when I see a couple liesurely walking through the city on a Sunday afternoon, hands clasped, paper in hand, I can only think: "Oh, they're at the obligatory I have to hang out with you every second of every day phase." As an experienced dater with a good amount of heartbreak, you recognize that stage as more of a negative than a positive (well, at least I do).

It is at this stage where a certain comfort level has been reached - words do not need to be shared; the deep ideas that once brought you together are now replaced by conversations of bills, car insurance, and in some cases, daycare. Oftentimes, the lack of excitement/newness/fun is suffocating. Eating dinner together becomes a chore. You become "the dining dead" (Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind), chewing silently as you make occasional eye contact.

In essence, there is nothing magical about being in a relationship. It becomes monotonous, just like everything else. Like a job, the day's events become predictable. Your partner's charming idiosyncrasies become irksome as you both begin to realize that opting to spend "the rest of your lives together" or even "a good amount of time together" is going to be a mighty long road.

Long-term relationships are like the Gold Rush - there is the promise of riches at the end of the trek but begin with caution - famine, danger, and long stretches of road with no reprieve in sight await you.

The Romance Myth - Debunked

Hollywood has created a romance mythos that has no basis in reality. The guy (usually) always gets the girl; the ugly duckling becomes a beauitul swan and gets the man of her dreams; and the two individuals who seemingly hated one another find it in their hearts to not only maintain tolerance but even fall in love. Romantic comedies work for one reason: they stop at the most opportune time. You don't see what happens post union, because that's when things go south. So, I have chosen a few romantic comedies and have decided to create my own little post-ending scenarios and provide reasons for why these perfect loves are doomed to fail.

Sweet Home Alabama
She winds up with her high school sweetheart - the rough and tumble farmer who has always loved the true Melanie, not the successful, ambitious New York City fashionista that she has become. She eventually rediscovers her true feelings for her former husband (as well as her Southern twang), and leaves her New York life behind. Yeah, OK. Shoot forward 3 years. She is married, pregnant, and riding a tractor. She resents and hates her husband because he represents everything she had tried to escape from, and now she is mired in it forever. She drinks heavily and drunkenly tells her children of her days as a famous fashion designer. They never believe her.

Never Been Kissed
We all know this story, yes? Josie Grossie goes back to high school as part of a journalistic assignment. She falls in love with her English teacher (who thinks she is 17, but he falls in love with her anyway). After much soul searching, he finds out she is a reporter; they have a fight; she writes a romantic piece in the local paper; he reads it and gives her her first real kiss. Cue"aw". What they don't show you are the dinner parties that they throw. Josie is so incredibly excited to be in an adult relationship that she entertains quite frequently. However, Mr. Coulson cannot hold his alcohol and has a penchant for tirades that sound like this: "I fucking wanted to have sex with you when I thought you were 17! Can you fucking imagine that?! FUCK!?" Josie then walks off screen and cries about how another dinner party is ruined because Sam can't let go of the past.

50 First Dates
OK. Drew Barrymore has no short term memory, so Adam Sandler tries his darndest to create a life with her by showing her videos every morning to remind her of what they have. It's sweet. Yeah, it's sweet because it's every man's fantasy - a woman who can't remember shit. After getting bored of having to constantly prove who he is to the woman he shares a home with, he begins to have fun with it. The videos that he shows her each morning become more and more ridiculous, even making her believe on one particular day that they are the 21st century's Bonnie and Clyde. Oh, and at night, he sneaks out to sleep with other women.

Because I had so much fun with this, I think it may become a Friday thing...Next week - Disney movies debunked!

The "How We Met Story" - A Happy Couple's Version of the Stocks

No, I am not talking of the Dow or the Nasdaq, but rather, the medieval torture device that was often used as a means of public humiliation and pain. When a happy couple (or, as we learned from my last blog - a seemingly happy couple) begins their "let's tell them how we met!" spiel, I cringe. We all know that the story of the happenstance, or not so happenstance meeting will pretty much be variations on one of two themes:

1. "Oh, we hated each other!" Cue knowing smile and coquettish side glance at significant other. "But, I don't know. He just grew on me!"
2. "I knew it the moment we met." Cue same side glance. "I knew I had met the one. You know that feeling? When you just...know?" It is during this question that I wish I lacked my normal human filtering system and instead had a Larry David-like approach to interacting with people: "No, you moron. I don't know what you mean. Do you see a tall, dark, handsome man standing next to me? Is he looking at me with awe-struck eyes almost as if to say, 'how did I manage to get her?' NO!"

While both stories may vary depending on the couple, they all have one goal - to incite jealousy in the single individual (or equally "fortunate" couple) who is listening. Couples constantly try to one-up eachother- "Oh, you guys met when his car crashed into yours? Well, we lived in the same building for 10 years and never crossed paths! Can you imagine?!"

My favorite, however, is the "How we met story" (directed at a single friend) that ends with the sympathetic "aw, you'll find somebody" head tilt. I don't need your pity. As a matter of fact, I feel quite lucky that I do not have to subject other unsuspecting bystanders to a needless real-life romance written by two nitwits. I, instead, will take part in conversation that involves all individuals in the room and not just the two self-centered morons who decided to torture us for 30 minutes as they described how he "swept her off her feet" when he rang up her apples at the A&P.

Man, that felt good. Maybe I should channel Larry David more often.

The Opposite of Love = Marriage?

I was introduced to Tracy Thorn today...well, her music. More importantly, someone brought her newest album to my attention. Called "Love and Its Opposite", Thorn attempts to navigate love and understand the push and pull that are relationships and marriage. According to Thorn, the opposite of love is marriage. The obligation and stress that comes with long-term relationships and with the fear of losing them can be suffocating. The album cover is eerie, a forlorn family poses for a portrait, their faces haphazardly colored in seemingly by an angry child; a child who was forced to watch their parents' marriage crumble.

The first track on the album, "Oh, The Divorces!" (a song whose lyrics I had to include) is a melancholy reflection on the inevitability of failed love...As I listened, I realized that this epitomizes my view of marriage - it's a slow death once the "I do's" are done; and when the divorce is announced, everyone is shocked: "I thought they were so happy!"

The last lines of the song remind me of the beginning lines of Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy: "All happy families are alike; each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way". Each happy family is a replica of the other because it's a facade - underneath those pleasant dinners and peaceful barbecues is a mother and a father who feel suffocated, stressed, and somewhat alone. Well, at least according to Tracy Thorn...and I have to say I agree with her.

I transcribed the lyrics for you...I apologize if they are incorrect. I did my best!

Oh, The Divorces!

Who's next?

Who's next?

Always the ones that you least expect

They seem so strong

Turns out she wants it more all alone

And each time I hear who drifts apart

I examine my heart

See how it stands

Wonder if it's still in safe hands.

Who's fled? Who's fled?

Who's been caught out in somebody's bed?

You should have guessed that day his phone wouldn't take your text.

He was a charmer

I wish him bad karma

Oh I know we shouldn't take sides

But that one was his fault

And this one is her fault

No one gets off without pain...?

Oh, the divorces

And oh, oh, oh

The honeymoon, the wedding ring, oh, oh, oh

The afternoon hand-overs by the swings

...

You're still so young

But it ends just as easily as it's begun.

Now there's kids to tell

The legal bills and custody

And oh, the divorces.

And this one is different and each one of course is,

And always the same...

How "He's Just Not That Into You" Ruined My Life

During my brief single stint when I was 21 years old, I became obsessed with the book, "He's Just Not that Into You". I felt like it had simplified the very complicated world of dating for me in so many ways - If he doesn't call, he doesn't like you. If he likes you, he will ask you out. If he is sleeping with someone else, guess what? He's just not that into you. I felt free. Alive. I could ascertain a man's interest and then drop him at the slightest hint that my enthusiasm was not being returned...

Enter me, 4 years later...

My boyfriend of 3 years packs my things for me without being 100 percent sure that I was indeed leaving Texas to fly back to New York City. Relationship failed. One night as I wallowed, knee-deep in ice cream (what a cliche), "He's Just Not That Into You" began. I can sum up the movie like this - dumb women meet equally dumb men and then, in the end, find happiness whether they are alone, or with one of aforementioned men.

Was there a glimmer of hope? Was it possible that '...after all the unreturned phone calls, broken-hearts, through the blunders and misread signals, through all the pain and embarrassment" hope could still exist? (ending monologue of the film) Nope.

It only seems that things will work out because they end the movie at the happiest, most opportune time. Gigi is at the very beginning of her relationship with Alex (he has yet to see her truly crazy side); Drew Barrymore's character has yet to pick her first fight with her new boyfriend (who used to sleep with Scarlett Johanssen's character) - "Are you more attracted to her?! Do you still love her?! She still has a hold on you! I know it! ADMIT IT!" They also don't show Jennifer Connelly's character slowly spiral into madness as she attempts to navigate the dating world after being with the same man since college.

When I first became single after the "Austin Debacle" (we will refer to it this way from now on), this movie did give me hope. Then, my relationship experience charged forth and helped me to nullify each happy ending with experience-supported logic. Why must these movies insist on destroying us? This film has created a group of sadomasochistic women who, against all odds, continue to pursue love, or at least the illusion of it. We make fools of ourselves as we attempt to emulate the type of woman that we perceive to be wanted by the men we desire.

However, I must say that my recalcitrant refusal to listen to any of the advice put forth in "He's Just Not That Into You" has caused me to pursue eligible men blindly. I suppose that, while I won't accept the movie's promise of a happy ending, I probably should adopt the idea that if he isn't calling, he isn't interested...or maybe, he'd rather be sleeping with Scarlett Johanssen. Pure and simple.

Oy vey. Dating sucks.

An Intellectual Approach To Love

Psychologist Karen Horney, M.D., in her article “The Problem of the Monogamous Ideal,” [19] indicates that the overestimation of love leads to disillusionment; the desire to possess the partner results in the partner wanting to escape; and the taboos against sex result in non-fulfillment. Disillusionment plus the desire to escape plus non-fulfillment result in a secret hostility, which causes the other partner to feel alienated. Secret hostility in one and secret alienation in the other cause the partners to secretly hate each other. This secret hate often leads one or the other or both to seek love objects outside the marriage or relationship. (Wikipedia; accessed 5/17/2010)

Before you ask, yes, I tried to access the entire article. However, because I don't see an instance where I will need a subscription to a psychology website, I felt no desire to spend the money. Dr. Horney's (and yes, the humor of that name is not lost on me) concept is rather interesting though.

We do overestimate love - between Hollywood's romantic comedies, the love songs on the radio, and the absolute saturation of magazines begging the questions, "who's dating who? who's engaged?" it's no wonder that we put a lot of pressure on finding "THE ONE" or "our soulmate".

Horney describes it as an epic push and pull - we desire so much from our romantic partner (love, friendship, sex, passion) but inevitably, it is never enough. One of us always wants to escape (you know what your mother used to say: "Find someone who loves you more than you love them") It is unavoidable that while one person desires nothing more than to remain entrenched in the relationship, the other desires less attachment. Then, because of this imbalance in reciprocity, disillusionment, dissatisfaction, and resentment breed.

I would apologize for the bleakness of this entry but I can't help but agree with Horney's assessment. There is always one individual in a relationship who is the wolf, the pursuer if you will. The other person is the bunny, the difficult to obtain morsel who will give the wolf's life meaning and validity. Therefore, a relationship consists of two parts - a reacher, and a settler. The settler will always desire something greater, and the reacher will always feel dissatisfied as their intense feelings are not returned in kind.

Horney's theory supports my belief that romantic relationships are doomed to fail...that initial, neurotransmitter-induced "love feeling" is eventually replaced by resentment and anger. You have been warned.

Prefaced with an Apology

This entry is prefaced with an apology because I had a moment of weakness this weekend - my cynicism waned. On Friday night, I came across Spanglish, a movie that I enjoy every time I watch it, mainly because in it, there is an almost pornographic shot of a sandwich. It's fantastic. However, while watching it this time, I had an "aw" moment. Yuck.

John Clasky: (Sandler) They should name a gender after you. Looking at you doesn't do it, staring is the only way that makes sense. And trying not to blink so you don't miss anything. And all of that and you're you. It's just that you are drop dead crazy gorgeous. So much so, that I'm actually considering looking at you again before we finish up here.

I became doe-eyed and goofy, even saying to myself, "I wish a man would say that to me." Granted, I am not so delusional as to believe that my attractiveness (as limited as it may be) warrants this type of reaction. Paz Vega's beauty on the other hand, certainly does. The lines just struck me as incredibly (yes, I am about to use this word) sweet. I had to confess this because I need to remain accountable. I need to remain curmudgeony. And I am relying on you, my readers, to do this. So I am sorry for my moment of Hollywood-romance-induced weakness...I lay prostrate before you. Go forth my 3 readers, and criticize me.

A Window With Too Many Views

So, since we've spent some time together my readers, I have decided to abandon the argument (but only for today) that relationships don't work for anyone and instead, take today's post to explain why they don't work for me. I am not saying, unequivocally, that relationships are an impossible endeavor for me, I am just aware of a particular course of thought that makes it more difficult.

The old Groucho Marx joke (as referenced in 'Annie Hall') pretty much defines what I am going to be speaking about: "I would never want to belong to any club, that would have someone like me for a member." Now, I am perfectly aware that what I am about to say not only defines me as neurotic but also painfully insecure...but that will not prevent me from saying it - When I do date someone, my mind is utterly consumed with thoughts such as "Well, wouldn't they deserve someone who knows more about (insert random, esoteric interest here)?; Don't they deserve someone taller? Thinner? At least someone who can kick a soccer ball around? (I have never dated ANYONE with a remote interest in soccer, so i guess this is just another testament to my neurosis) Maybe they want someone who's more free-spirited a la Holly Go Lightly...?"

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, at no point am I ever enjoying the moment, relishing the fact that in this vast world, I have homed in on someone who can carry a conversation and occupy my time in an enjoyable, romantically productive way. Instead, I become a love guru of sorts, a woman on an inexhaustible mission to find for the new object of my affection someone better, smarter, and thinner. I suppose I just don't want to belong to any club that would have someone like me for a member.

I am putting this out there not because I feel bad for myself. I am putting this out there into the void because it makes these thoughts very true, and very known. As a result, I may be able to "check myself before I wreck myself". And so, I propose a pact between you (my readers) and me (your hapless fool) - [My last 'Annie Hall reference' - sorry] I vow to not obsess over the Kennedy assassination in an effort to avoid accepting that someone worthwhile wants to spend time with me because I am worthwhile too!...?

It's a work in progress people. Bear with me.

Fighters - To Your Corners!

Last night, I was reminded yet again of why relationships (any relationships) between men and women are so incredibly difficult - fighting styles. "There are clear indications, he says, that it is a male tactic to withdraw from arguments. “Women, on average, are more often in the role of the managers of relationship matters. They are often in the position of bringing up and pursuing things they would like to change." (TimesOnline, October 30, 2007) (If you want to read the full article - http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/men/article2764731.ece)

This is precisely what I experienced last night. Even in male/female friendships, these arguing styles abound. A small disagreement turns into the Thrilla in Manila - the man does the 'rope a' dope' as the woman hammers away, trying to win the argument. As I texted furiously last night, attempting to prove that it wasn't the actual argument that had bothered me but rather the way he reacted to my initial gripe, the fight turned into something we could no longer control. It was now unwieldy and we lost our grip. “Most couples start out arguing about one thing and within five minutes are arguing about the way they are arguing.” (TimesOnline, October 30, 2007)

However, this fight with a male friend did have one positive effect - it made me realize that I do not have the wherewithal or the patience for a romantic relationship right now. They are way too much damn work. Now, I am sure my more optimistic, glass-half-full readers may say: "Well, if you find the right person, it will be easy. It won't be work." Yes it is. It may not be work when you're both on vacation...wait, no, yes it will be! You will be working the entire time to ignore their unwillingness to do an activity that you want to do and not fight because you "don't want to fight on vacation". Relationships are work - and it's work I'm not willing to put in.

After all, it is inevitable that you will fight...about SOMETHING. And then, while you (the woman) tries with all your feminine might to resolve it, he will retreat emotionally, silencing himself and frustrating you. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Venutians and Martians, our fighting styles, more often than not, prevent us from having successful relationships. It's just how it is. Science says so.

The Quarter-Life...Matrimony?

Hello all. I've been thinking a lot lately about marriage in your twenties. It is inevitable that the marital status of our friends, or at least former classmates, becomes public thanks to social networking sites. As a result, I am increasingly surprised by how many of my fello 25 year olds (or younger) are married, and even parents! What makes us think, at 25, that we're ready to spend (conceivably) the next 55 years of our life with the same person? According to the National Center for Health Statistics:

60 percent of marriages for couples between the ages of 20 and 25 end in divorce. — National Center for Health Statistics

50 percent of all marriages in which the brides are 25 or older result in a failed marriage. — National Center for Health Statistics

Now, I am not about to offer up a reason for this trend. However, I am going to give my assessment of marriage in your twenties, and why I will never be married before I am 30...if I ever choose to take that plunge in the first place.

I suppose I will start with my opinion about what my twenties have been like. To say they have been tumultuous would be an unfair understatement. Who I was at 23 - what I wanted, what I thought I wanted, what I would tolerate, and what I needed - was completely different from the 25 year old seedling I am now. Your twenties are a time of constant evolution...or is that just me? I would absolutely love to hear your take on it.

While many would say that finding your counterpart would also imply finding someone to grow with, I would argue that why grow with someone instead of putting a most complete you out there and finding a complement that way? Maybe I'm just completely off-base but those statistics frighten me...I don't want to have a "shot in hell" if I get married...but rather a pretty good chance of surviving because we are two mature individuals who have been through our share of experiences and are ready to settle down and share our lives with one another. When married between the ages of 30-34, your chance of divorce drops dramatically - 8.5% for women and 11.6 percent for men (divorce rate.org)

Hell, maybe I'm way off base and maybe the schizophrenic experience that has been my twenties is not at all indicative of what one's quarter-life should be...but even so, with statistics like that - I ask, "Why bother?"

Arthur Schopenhauer
The process of courtship also contributed to Arthur Schopenhauer's pessimism, despite his own romantic success,[14] and he argued that to be rid of the challenge of courtship would drive people to suicide with boredom. Schopenhauer theorized that individuals seek partners who share certain interests and tastes, while at the same time looking for a "complement" or completing of themselves in a partner, as in the cliché that "opposites attract." (Wikipedia)

I suppose today's blog will be dedicated to answering the question of "Why do we get into romantic relationships?" Granted, there are many theorists/philosophers/anthropologists who offer up their own reasons, but Schopenhauer's theory is definitely the one is most identify with.

Even though I have definitively established myself as a cynic, I will admit that the excitement of dating is fun. The prospect of meeting someone who could challenge my preconceived negative notions about what relationships are is the thing that makes me put on eyeliner and sit across from a complete stranger as I laundry list my accomplishments in hopes that they will find me worthwhile enough to see me again. I agree with Schopenhauer's assessment that without this pursuit of love, many of us would die from boredom. Even with our own intellectual, artistic, and emotional pursuits, we need to continue to chase sex because in a very sad way, that gives our inherently meaningless life meaning and significance.

When it comes to Schopenhauer's idea of the "complement", I agree with that as well. Even when we consider ourselves to have our own interests and passions, when we meet a potential "mate" (i.e. someone we would consider sleeping with) we assess their interests and, even if we take part in our own pursuits, begin to reflect it back to them. "Oh! Godard! He's a fantastic filmmaker! Oh, what am I interested in? That's not important...let's talk more about 'Breathless'." Do you see what I mean? Even though we may be looking for that "complement", that yin to our yang, the truth of the matter is, we fear being alone; and if that means watching Godard's "Weekend" at the Film Forum then goddammit, we will do it! (not that I'm speaking from experience here or anything)

To provide one last assessment of why we seek out romantic relationships I turn your attention to the last monologue in Annie Hall:

"I thought of that old joke, y'know, the, this... this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, "Doc, uh, my brother's crazy; he thinks he's a chicken." And, uh, the doctor says, "Well, why don't you turn him in?" The guy says, "I would, but I need the eggs." Well, I guess that's pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y'know, they're totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and... but, uh, I guess we keep goin' through it because, uh, most of us... need the eggs."

Regardless of how ridiculous and inevitably futile it is, we need the eggs. We need to hold on to that hope that maybe there is an individual who can erase our cynicism and instill in us the belief that people are indeed reliable...yeah, right.

So I've been thinking a lot lately about the whole public display of affection thing. Waiting for the bus yesterday (granted, I was already annoyed as 40 mile an hour winds threatened to knock me on my ass so I am aware that my angry vehemence was exponentially increased) there was a couple who was apparently so into one another that he felt the overwhelming urge to grab his girlfriend's ass. I ask you, my readers (if you do in fact exist), why?

I posed this question to some of my coworkers and the opinions were not difficult to categorize - those in relationships see nothing wrong with PDAs while those of us who were not or those of us in failing relationships found them to be superfluous. "Whatever, man. It's cool. What's the big deal? If you're in love, you're in love. Show it off. It's a beautiful thing" said one of my coworkers. Now, I realize that what I am about to say will come off as insane...and even slightly evil: Please take your "whatever, man"s and shove them up your love-sick ass! I have been in love and I do not feel the need to broadcast it by beckoning my significant other to grab my ass/belt loops/breast or what-have-you.

Also, other than the fact that it's incredibly inappropriate and rude, public displays of affection are like the firestorm that grips a nuclear test site right after the bomb is detonated. It's hot and steamy and everything is ravaged and your soul feels like it cannot take any more passion! In the midst of the ass grabbing you feel as though you have found your proverbial "lobster", the person you will spend the rest of your insignificant days with. And then, the aftermath of that bomb occurs. A strong wind follows that heated blast and everything is extinguished, and all that's left are the remnants of what used to be.

My basic point - your relationship will end anyway, because they always do. Therefore, while you're in the midst of it, please spare the rest of us from having to experience your dying sun of a relationship. It will burn out. Trust me.

Background

I suppose I should start from the beginning, no? About 9 months ago, I moved back from Austin, TX where, on a hopeful whim, I had moved with my boyfriend (now my ex-boyfriend). I truly believed that love could conquer all, including the abject poverty that we experienced in this "cool, hip, young" town. Obviously...I was sadly mistaken. My relationship fell apart, its foundation crumbling with each realization by both individuals that living with one another was a challenge beyond our twenty-something minds...minds already riddled with concerns of a "quarter-life crisis" and what goals we should work toward achieving.

Since I've moved back, I have begun to experience the dating world. Usually, after a break-up, it doesn't take long for me to fall into another relationship (2, maybe 3 months, tops). So, it's been a bit of a change to now have to "screen" potential suitors via drinks/coffee/light dinners and the like. The purpose of this blog is to therefore reflect on my new, single life, single life in general, and the absolutely ridiculousness that is dating and the human need to take part in romantic relationships. If you don't like cynicism...read anyway. If you enjoy cynicism, you're welcome here. We like your kind.