Issue #50 – “Twenty-Five Years Young” – August 16th, 2004

-Hey all!  Well, it’s been a while.  I spent the summer writing my new book, “Ruminations on Twentysomething Life,” which will be published next year, but now Ruminations is back!  One small change that I hope you’ll like – the column will now come out every other Monday morning as opposed to only once a month.  Yeah, I knew you’d like that.  I also turned twenty-five over the summer, which was, you know, a bit depressing, but now that I’ve snapped out of it, let the ruminating begin!

-Five of my closest friends are in med school and they are all now entering their fourth years.  Which means the whining never fucking stops.  Because apparently this is the time to choose a specialty and basically decide the course of the rest of their lives.  The worst part about it is that no one has chosen anything useful…to me.  I remember sitting around with my buddies having some beers after they took the MCATs, and they were all like, “Some day, Karo, all this work will pay off and I’ll treat you for free.”  Yeah, except you just decided to become a gynecologist and totally screwed me.

-The other night I was at a party and pulled an Amstel Light out of the fridge.  Like six of my friends whipped bottle-openers out of their pockets.  And not sophisticated bottle-openers mind you, I’m talking about the big, round keychain ones with half the paint chipped off and a University of Michigan logo on it.  I thought that was kind of pathetic.  I mean, we’re twenty-five years old.  What’s the cutoff for carrying bottle-openers these days?  Next thing you know, my dad will be doing kegstands.

-There was this chick at the party who was so annoying.  Why?  She’s an abbreviator.  These are the girls that give everything an annoying little nickname.  Like they call the show with Sarah Jessica Parker “Sex and” or refer to the island east of Manhattan as “LI.”  You can spot abbreviators at a young age.  They’re the ones that watched “Melrose” and “Bev” religiously.

-My buddy Chi is that guy who always misses his flight.  I’m sure you have a friend like that.  We were both getting pretty fucked up at this party and then all of a sudden I asked him, “Wait, aren’t you going to California tomorrow?”  And he’s like, “Yeah, my flight is at 5am, so I’m only gonna have a few more drinks.”  Then he calls me the next day like, “Dude, I’m still in the city.  I overslept and missed my flight.”  And this happens every time he flies.  I think the airlines should have a special section for people like him.  It should be First Class, Business Class, and Dumbass.

-As always, here are some random things I’ve been ruminating about lately…

-I hate when singers rhyme the same word twice.  Like Beyonce: “I’ll be your naughty girl.  I’m calling all the girls.”  No, no, no.  I’m sorry but you can’t rhyme “girl” and “girls.”  I mean, come on!  Throw a twirl or a pearl in there or something.

-When someone asks me if I’m good with computers, I say yes.  Then they proceed to ask me to help them with such an absurdly technical procedure that only a rocket scientist from MIT would be able to accomplish it.  It’s like if someone asks you if you’re good in bed and you say yes, and then they ask you to impregnate their infertile wife.

-I think that everyone’s parents have that one friend of yours that they want you to end up with, even though it’s never going to happen.  For my parents, it’s my friend Marcia.  My parents are not even subtle about it.  They’re like, “How’s Marcia?  What’s Marcia up to?  Have you spoken to Marcia lately?  You should have sex with Marcia.”

-A few months ago, in my last column, I wrote that I had recently entered into my first serious relationship after four years of single debauchery.  I’ve chosen to refer to my girlfriend in this column simply as “Girlfriend.”  So, I’m happy to say that Girlfriend and I are still going strong after six months.  She’s hot, treats me well, and is absolutely thrilled about me sharing the details of our lives with tens of thousands of strangers around the world.  OK, maybe not that last part.  Anyway, the one major difficulty I’ve been having as a neophyte boyfriend is that when Girlfriend’s um…you know, “cycle” comes around, I get completely thrown off.  The thing is, I can’t remember the last time I dated anyone for more than 28 days, so I’m really not used to handling such unannounced hormone flux.  All of a sudden you’re dealing with a completely illogical woman who is so convinced she’s right, you begin to question yourself.  And as a guy, I think that’s what’s so amazingly powerful about menstruation – it actually makes ME feel crazy.

-Last week I was at a bar with Girlfriend and some of my buddies when I spotted a couple of really cute girls sitting by themselves.  My friend Triplet #1, who is single, wanted to talk to them but our other buddies were nowhere to be found.  So I asked Girlfriend if I could try hitting on them, just to see if I was rusty or not.  She laughed and stood back to observe as I completely crashed and burned.  You know how embarrassing it is to get shot down by a chick in front of your girlfriend?  Because you know she’s wondering, how the hell did I fall for that bullshit?

-Girlfriend only uses Mac computers.  Those Mac people are a stubborn bunch aren’t they?  They’re like politicians.  If you’re from the rival party (i.e. PC users), they’ll defend Macs to death, even if their arguments make no sense.  To test this theory, ask a Mac user why their mouse has no right click button.  You’ll probably get some convoluted explanation that ends with, “Well, um, well, it’s just better, OK!?”

-And, finally, the thing about Girlfriend is that she’s a textbook Serial Monogamist, you know, the type of girl that goes from boyfriend to boyfriend without ever dating in between?  So I’m always asking her about her long line of ex-boyfriends.  As the typical jealous boyfriend, I can’t imagine why she would have dated anyone before me.  So she says to me, “Well, ex-boyfriends are like internships.  I learned a little bit about myself from each one and then I moved on.”  So I said, “Well, how do you know you’re not an internship for me and I’m not going to move on?”  She’s like, “Karo, I saw you at the bar the other night.  You move on and you’re going to be unemployed for a long time.”  Fuck me.