she's just not that into me (pt. 1)

If there is one thing I notice about certain book titles, it's that their sales boom when girls are interested in reading them. Now, whether or not that changes based on Oprah or Cosmo Magazine or whatever, the title He's Just Not That Into You has really become something of interest with women I spend time with. I would guess that I have the movie to thank for bringing this piece of shit into the mind frame of my friends in their mid-20s who have all of a sudden become empowered due to the fact that they aren't at fault with anything having to do with men--it's our fault. We men know exactly what we want at all times and will stop at nothing to get it. All men are the same and so because that is the case, the rules apply to us all. Granted, I only read the first chapter of this book, but that's fine because that's the only chapter I really want to talk about anyway.

The first chapter of He's Just Not That Into You is specifically about dating, more so about asking someone out. While there are several points that I may agree with, I don't think you can easily just say, "You know, this guy ain't asking you out so he must not like you. He sucks, you don't." Now, I've read shit for women before (typically, when I was in my teens, it was my way to get the inside information on the ladies) and the way authors write shit for women is typically empowering for women. Rise up! Clinch your fist! You are powerful, you are sexy, you are woman! Yeah, yeah, this book really isn't any different but that's marketing and that's knowing your audience because women respond positively to words and things like that. Well, as a cynical man, I was annoyed in about 15 seconds.

Frankly, I don't think I apply to the first chapter in this book. I'm sure a lot of dudes would say that but they covered a lot of different options as to why a man hasn't asked the woman out. There was the "not ruin the friendship" angle; the "he gave her his number" angle, and so on & so on. Certainly, there are guys who take advantage of the system and use excuses to get out of doing the heavy lifting as far as the initial chase but what about the guys like me, like my brother, like my best friend, like a lot of other men I know--maybe she's just not that into me!

I'm not stupid. I have a lot of evidence to prove this (and a lot of prove otherwise) but I believe I'm pretty good at reading in between the lines and figuring out what signals women are conveying to me. Simply, I hate rejection, almost to the point of nausea. Yes, I've thrown up thinking about asking out a girl that I really liked. Puked. That's some nerves. I'm not afraid of heights, I'm not afraid of fire, spiders, Crips & Bloods, haunted houses, or rattlesnakes. I'm not afraid to ask a chick to lick my face, "earn" some beads...whatever. I'm not afraid of letting people know what's on my mind, but there is one thing I don't like to do at all--surrender power, and when you ask a woman you like a lot out, you are temporarily surrendering power.

I tend to tense up because I don't like to be hurt, let down, disappointed, just like the rest of us. But at the same time, more importantly perhaps, there's the lack on control over a situation I don't like to forfeit very often. Women=kryptonite, and what if she's just not that into me? I'm crushed, because it's a huge reflection upon me and my looks, my sense of humor, my good-hearted personality that I feel are all strengths. Whatever, man. What the hell does a book know about me or any other guy? I may have learned over the years that I'm not as unique as I think (see: prior post about being an Aries), but I know that I don't fit the mold of the guy who "knows what he wants and gets it no matter what." Yeah, tell that to the two girls I liked for a combined 14 years w/o asking them out (for simple fear of them saying no).

My brother Ryan is a terrific young man who overcomes things slowly but surely. He is resilient.; I like to think I am just as resiliant but sometimes I think that I'm just pathetic. My feelings get hurt all the time but I shrug them away so quickly I rarely remember 5 minutes after the occurrance--why can't that be the case when I like a girl? I take it so personally, you know?? I took this fucking book personally, at least the first chapter. You don't know me, ye ole writers of Sex and the City! I'm going to continue to read this fucking book and then I'm gonna let you know how much this book doesn't just not apply to me, but probably a greater percentage of men than the book's authors realize. We're an unclaimed bunch, the group of men who enjoy women so much that we're afraid of losing them even before we have them. You think I'm crushed when they turn down my date request?

...imagine how I feel when they dump me.

...to be continued...

what the sign says

Monday evening, I read a horoscope that said the Aries should follow a strong impulse to do something unexpected and that it would be rewarded. Only hours before had I asked a really cute girl out. [Believe it or not, I rarely do that, just go off and say, "hey, how about dinner?" I typically wait for the chick to make it completely so obvious that she wants to eat dinner and bang (in some cases, in a different order) that I don't have to do any work.] Job well done. The horoscope hit the nail on the head, amazingly with me following its instruction although I didn't read it until after said deed was done. Wow! Thanks, constellations!

Yesterday, however, I wanted to see what else the stars had to say about the Aries folks after seeing some threads on Twitter about how all different people with different signs are in bed and in relationships. So I came across some description about what the Aries is and in a very odd way, I felt like I was reading a biography about myself. I felt like a lot of my personality's uniqueness simply faded away because I'm obviously not the only Aries in the world and there must be others out there like me. Aside from the typical things that everyone is in some way--adventurous, likes new things, likes challenges, deeper beyond the surface, blah blah blah--I read about my completely trusting qualities (didn't I just talk about that at the Chow Wagon with my close friend on Thursday?) and my desire to have a strong-willed mouthy woman in my life and my resilience to life's curve balls and how I have to do a little bit of everything Earth has to offer so I can have a story about it. Those too might be common things for people, but those three things really tied closest to me, seeing as though those are qualities that made me somewhat likable.

I'm not a "believer" in astrology and that the damn sky determines how the world works. But I'd be lying if I said that I haven't read horoscopes that made more sense than Bible verses. Regardless, the point is that I instantly began looking internally at who I am. Am I really defined as what kind of person I am based on when I was born? So me having the traits of an Aries doesn't come from my upbringing, my environment, or genetics? It's all a smokescreen?? Ha, no, I don't really think that. But it really is interesting that I really am what I read about when reading descriptions about those of the Aries sign. I didn't really bother to read any other signs' details, for one because I don't care, but secondly because I didn't want to go around thinking about what people's signs were and defining them with what I read on an astrology website.

Perhaps if I went to another source on the signs, I would have a slightly different version of what I'm supposed to be like. Perhaps that random site I Googled just luckily had me down pat. I have to admit--I liked what I saw about me. Fiery, outgoing, desires to lead...sure, that's me. I enjoy my fiery passion, and I love not being afraid to talk to someone I don't know (you can never know too many people), and I love taking charge of a situation, guiding the astray to the right path. Yay. But now, I'm inspired to break a little out of my mold and switch up my style. Oh, wait, Aries are willing to try anything new.

Rats.

It's been too long to leave: My Response about the John Mayer Controversy

May I start of by saying that John Mayer on "Storytellers" is a great piece to watch for any fans of his music (and it's great that he can still connect to his songs from Room for Squares and connect to material writing many a year ago). The stories are familiar, only because in an indirect way, they are my stories. They are the ones I share about my passion for writing, for film, for women, and for living life with a Belgian beer within arms reach. His thing is music, which I also love (who doesn't?), but the connection to him is because he speaks of things all guys go through when they allow themselves to get caught up in their own ego or when we are simply stomping around looking for love in another person. It's familiar alright, and being reminded of the things that make go from one day to the next is too important to let go of in an instance where it becomes hard to listen to anything that person says anymore.

I've been cringing at things John Mayer has said to reporters or in public since I first heard him play. He was terribly awkward in Tennessee when I went to go see him with my girlfriend at the time. She asked me to visit her at Vandy and check out an artist that she'd heard about that she was sure I'd like. There wasn't many things she was right about when concerning things I'd like or like to do, but hearing John was the best idea she ever had. At that little show in that bar I was in underage, John Mayer made some goofy bad jokes that actually made me think, "man, this guy is awkward." It hasn't stopped in the last ten years. And it's obvious that Mr. Mayer has sidestepped the act of sidestepping his celebrity status as he did early on in his career. Remember him after Room for Squares? We were still trying to understand this goofy-looking dude who sang about stuff goofy-looking dudes shouldn't really know about...should they? He was jumping on the Hot Girlfriends Train early on though; I believe he dated Jennifer Love Hewitt early on, but don't hold me to that because it's not worth researching. The point is that then, you felt like the hotties were going to line up because his lyrics were pretty and he was hot because of the musician thing and they were just banging him in hopes that he'd write his next "Your Body is a Wonderland" about them in particular. However, these days, he's open on Twitter about chicks and he comes off as a smug SOB. While always along the way trying to be the funny cool guy, he made some missteps about the racist dick thing.

I understand the nature of a joke going wrong wholly. As a man who thrills at making people laugh every single day (did I miss my calling at stand-up?), too often my jokes are misunderstood, with people thinking they're simply not funny or with people thinking of my joking insults as true insults. It happens too often, so instead of regressing into that cave of creative freedom with comedy, I instead try to top my missteps by coming up with something better that'll eventually get me to my goal of making you laugh. Mr. Mayer was trying to be funny and it was a huge misfire; the problem with Mr. Mayer and his celebrity status is that because he is who he is, he unfortunately had his bad joke published when in my case, I'd probably only have three people hear my bad joke. And the worst part of Johnny Boy's bad joke is that it had to be racial, which means that people who know I'm a JM fan immediately turn to me to see what I'm going to do. Am I going to march in the streets for a boycott? Am I going to hawk every John Mayer CD in the city and burn them all in a hateful blaze? Just what am I going to say?

Another statement of the obvious: I hang around several white folks. What can I say--you're the majority in this country. What you have to understand is that there's a reason my mother is so...particular, for lack of a better term, about me consorting out of the race. It's just simple fear of what's she experienced happening to me. I always thought of my mom as some old school Black Panther retiree who was spit on by white folks on the campus of Northwestern as a youth, someone who wouldn't be able to let go of some injustice that happened to her over 30 years ago. Eh, I was kinda off on my early analysis, but let's just say that she's seen things and has been a victim of some things that would make someone a little racially scarred. But I've never really felt that way because I've luckily never had to really live in the same world she and my father had to. And despite my mother's worries, I know several incredible people that wouldn't dare hurt me because of my black skin. However, that doesn't really change the fact that some people say things that I might deem offensive if I was sensitive. I'm not--Mom made sure my skin was thick by the time I grew up--but internally, I often raise an eyebrow at what I hear. I'm not a fan of the word, but it is simple ignorance that keeps us from realizing what hurts or not. I'm a victim of it but I'm also guilty of it more often than not. We all are, but the great thing about life is none of us can ever stop learning about each other. I believe John Mayer realizes this now that the public backlash has been so unfavorable and he can't really hide from it (especially in the midst of a world tour). Then again, he might continue on being ignorant and saying things that offend blacks or past girlfriends, maybe the handicapped next. Unfortunately, I have no control over that by ceasing to listen to his music.

Listening to his stories shared on "Storytellers" about how he crafted songs based on life is reminds me of me as a 16-year-old. Ten years ago, I came across another storyteller, a tall goofy-looking dude with a Supercuts haircut, who reminded me of how great life could be. At 16, I had everything ahead of me and there were several songs I knew John Mayer was going to write. I didn't know they were going to be "Clarity" or "I Don't Trust Myself" or "Heartbreak Warfare," but I was right about something in that dingy Nashville bar. And in a decade's time, that's a lot of bonding with songs that explain yourself better than you can on your Facebook page. Has it ever been easy to leave something behind you spent ten years with? For me, at my young age, not so much.

So I won't be in the front row of Mr. Mayer's next concert ready to spit at him in the name of defending the women of my race for a terrible remark. But that doesn't mean I'll necessarily be ready to shake his hand next time I see him either.

Heidi Montag?? Really??

Do you know who Heidi Montag is? Well, after I'm done writing this, you probably won't care or will try to forget, but I'm going to start off by saying that she is releasing an independent album costing around $1-$2 million to produce. So those who DO know who she is can start laughing while I explain to the rest of my peers that she is a random chick from The Hills, MTV's annoying reality show about girls having a tough life living off of their rich parents in the heart of L.A. as they all navigate their way into young adulthood. Heidi, I recall, was one of Lauren Conrad's friends who has been in celebrity gossip mags a billion times because of her relationship with that loser boyfriend, Spencer. I admit, I watched the first season of Laguna Beach during my MTV fandom days, when I was a personal fan of L.C. I happened to see what she was going to be doing once moving from the serene atmosphere of Orange County to the chaotic atmosphere of L.A. Chaotic is far from what these girls had to deal with; chaotic was having to rearrange a nail appointment. Heidi was one of the stupid girls who has come out of this being a bigger name than deserving to.

I'm not really writing about her foray into music; a lot of people make albums when they shouldn't (Don Johnson, Eddie Murphy, Dirk Diggler, etc.). This is more about the power given to jabronies for no reason. I read that among teenagers, where a certain percentage once desired to become that which makes a person a celebrity--actor, musician, or athlete--kids now say they simply want to be "celebrities." I suppose that makes one rethink what a celebrity is in today's standards. Not even five years ago, chicks were becoming famous because of simply having a ton of MySpace friends. And nowadays, douchebags around the world are doing the same with Facebook and Twitter (are people really more interested in hearing what Ashton Kutcher has to say than news outlets like CNN?) . But they'll argue that they're not doing anything wrong, that it's the common folk that are befriending them electronically or following their 140-character updates on what they had for breakfast. I belong in this group as well; I find it slightly interesting to see the personal side of celebs because they're willing to offer it rather than having the paparazzi forcefully infringing upon their privacy. It's one thing to tell me you just had dinner with Chris Pine at Morton's and another to have creepy photographers snap photos and print dinner with Chris Pine simply they think I want to know.

Heidi Montag is a name that some will know more about once news of her album hits more media outlets. Or maybe it never will; I hear her first week album sales are miserable and that she spent as much money as she did on the album so that it could be on the quality level of a Britney Spears album. Hahaha. I'm not even going to get into the plastic surgery crap that I've seen on magazine covers in the checkout lane. But I will say that it got me thinking--what's the future of the celebrity? In ten years, will you become famous for taking a shit? Perhaps you could, seeing as how YouTube makes people overnight sensations with simply sharing a link or word-of-mouth. But what's going to be next? Who are we going to have to hear about next?

The first-week failure of Heidi Montag is sure to make celebrities question their longevity. Few people recover from epic failure; it tells us common folk they aren't worth paying attention to any longer. Heard Tila Tequila on the radio lately? You might start seeing her at Carl Casper radio shows. But what about the rest of them? What will happen to our celeb friends as time goes by? And what will happen to those who become celebrities for whatever stupid reason they become them? At the rate we're going, there will be post-graduate celebrity programs on campuses worldwide, maybe even at University of Phoenix online. It's not going to stop any time soon, not until there's a government ban on free speech (which will happen when the world ends). However, if the gossip mags, the paparazzi, and Entertainment Tonight go the way of the dinosaur.......then what will the news be about?

I haven't been dreaming lately...

my head hasn't been in the clouds as much as it was when I left Ireland...

and I just figured out why yesterday, at an Office Depot, on a laptop that wasn't my own (but one I really want to buy)...

yeah, I miss Emily.

A man named Michael

I didn't really want to write anything about his death. I felt like enough people had and enough people will. I've read articles and blogs everywhere from MTV to ESPN about the shocking tragedy that an idol has been claimed by the angel of death. When I first heard the news Thursday afternoon, I had only been awake for a short period of time and my brain took several minutes to process hearing, "Michael Jackson, age 50, is dead." I immediately changed the channel to MTV, and as soon as I saw "Beat It" playing, I knew it had to be true. My childhood idol was officially gone, and I wasn't sure how to feel anything but immediate sadness. But the worst part about all of this, worse than the fact that he's actually gone, is what I've heard from people who say things about his strange appearance, pedophilic accusations, and all-around insanity at the fact that he literally hid his children's faces with masks. It has caused me to speak a little about the King of Pop.

First of all, I must say that Farrah Fawcett's death was a shame. She was a beauty, a great pin-up legend (who in the 70s didn't have that poster--you know which one I'm talking about!). But my mind was blown when someone I know, a close friend, actually was shocked that Michael Jackson's death overshadowed her own. I mean, really? Are you fucking nuts? No, just uninformed of how huge MJ was at his peak. Sure, he didn't end his life on the high pedestal he reached after the success of Thriller made him a living legend. And I don't really feel like going over the numbers (the 750 million albums sold, the 13 Grammys, etc.) because the numbers game isn't what made him one-of-a-kind. But seriously, he practically owned the world for a very long time. He had the Guinness World Record for "Most Successful Entertainer of All-Time." Everyone wanted to be in his videos (Michael Jordan, Eddie Murphy, and Steven Spielberg were among those who were) and there isn't a producer on Earth who wouldn't jump at the chance to work with him, even today. Besides, do you think the Jonas Queers or Miley Cyrus will have an Oscar winner directing their music videos anytime soon (Martin Scorsese directed the "Bad" video for those who don't know)?

When I was very young, Bad was released and I've had it for as long as I can remember. Every week, at least once, my dad would pick me up from school with "Bad" or "The Way You Make Me Feel" or "Smooth Criminal" playing while I chewed a piece of Juicy Fruit on the way home. It's a fond but simple memory of my childhood that I consider one of those kinds of memories that might not come first to your mind but always reminds you of the innocence of youth. MJ played the soundtrack to my youth, as he had for my mother, but not like he will for my own children. When old people listen to Elvis, I wonder why. His music is outdated, if not stolen straight from black people, but now that the King of Pop is gone, I completely understand why Elvis fans still listen to Elvis. It may be about the music, but it's more about what the music means to them. To me, listening to Thriller, Off the Wall, and the other albums Mike made over his long career reminds me of my earliest start as an entertainer.

I was never a great singer, and I have never been a great dancer. I can do both, and I enjoy doing both, and I can say MJ influenced that. At one point, when I was the youngest person in my family, it was me who entertained the whole family during the holidays by doing the moonwalk. I had learned how to do it at a very young age, and even though I don't really remember this detail, they all swear I practiced many, many times on how to do the anti-gravity lean from "Smooth Criminal." MJ was important to my parents because--do realize this was before any of his child molestation trials--he was a terrific role model for black kids. His music was universal, bridging the gap between cultures as there was no place on Earth that didn't have MJ running from thousands upon thousands of screaming fans. Before him, black people didn't really have someone that famous to relate to. It's sad really. The Jacksons came up poor from Gary, IN to becoming one of the most famous American families in the history of entertainment, with Michael leading the charge. Poor black kids nowadays in the ghettos have to look up to rappers, who claim to sell drugs and shoot cats dead in the streets. Michael grew up in the same environment but sang about love, getting down, turning into zombies, illegitimate children from women named Billie Jean, making the world better, and how it doesn't matter if you're black or white.

His star fell when accused of the child molestation. I don't want to talk about it because I don't think it's a relevant issue in the point I'm trying to make. You can believe it, you can deny it, it doesn't matter to me. But to all you funny people out there--don't rub it in my face. It's not funny, it's not cool, and what does it do? Why do people love others being in misery? Michael Jackson became such a tragic figure of what stardom can do to people. Crazy or no, he probably wouldn't have been all that normal if he wasn't famous, but it's highly likely that his strange circumstances led to his demise. But I don't want to remember the demise of Michael, but more so the rise. And I would appreciate those of you who love to harp on the bad to harp on yourselves for a bit. If you want to remember someone who affected so many people for something that might have affected one person (or been an extortion scheme by that one person's parents) then go ahead and be my guest, but not around me. I have better things to remember.

I want to remember the glove, the moves, the songs, the hooks, the videos, the things that everyone in pop music has tried to emulate for 30 years and that no one will be able to achieve. I danced because Michael taught me how to dance. I sing because Michael taught me how to sing. I began saving money when I found some not-so-terribly-scalped tickets for one of his shows in London. I've never told anyone about this, but I was thinking about just flying over there by myself, finding my way through the city on a very small budget and enjoying a concert by one of the greatest entertainers we'll ever know. But it's not going to happen anymore. So I'll just hit play and let "Rock With You," the first MJ song I ever remember hearing, play in the background while I work on getting that moonwalk back.

With his death, my childhood dies with him. Rest forever in peace, my friend. My idol. Michael.

for those who read the last post....

...I had to delete it. I can't talk about that stuff anymore, and I can't live like that anymore. I've got too good of a thing going on for that.

--Fin.