Issue #75 – “Return to Singilization” – September 26th, 2005

-To me, entering into a relationship is like hiking into the dense jungle.  At first, it seems like a great idea.  That is, until you get disoriented and lose your bearings.  You start freaking out, but eventually realize there’s no place else to go.  You’re stuck.  So you figure you might as well just settle down.  Then you discover that everything you really need – nourishment and warmth – is freely available to you all the time.  Things actually start to seem pretty damn good.  You adapt to your new surroundings and begin to forget what the outside world is like.  By the time you’re rescued, you’re actually sad to leave.  But now it’s time to rejoin society – a journey I have just begun.  This is my return to singilization.

-Girlfriend and I have broken up after dating for a year and a half.  Some would say it was inevitable.  After all, we were doing long distance with a twist.  Not only did I recently move from New York to Los Angeles, but at almost the exact same time, Girlfriend moved from New York to Atlanta for advertising school.  But long distance didn’t cause our problems, it merely brought them to the surface quicker.  For instance, in hindsight, when Girlfriend once asked me if I loved Derek Jeter more than her, I probably should not have responded, “Well, I’ve known him longer.”

-The one thing I’m sure of is that we tried everything possible to make it work.  I even bought webcams for each of us, which was great.  Turns out arguing over a grainy, choppy Internet connection is just as good as arguing in person!

-My relationship with Girlfriend was eerily similar to the one with my college girlfriend, in that the first six months were bliss, the second six months were a little rocky, and the last six months were spent trying not to punch me in the face.

-Our final break-up was sad, but very much amicable and mutual.  Tears were shed on both ends, I think – with the webcams it was hard to tell if the other person was sobbing or choking on a pretzel.  Still, Girlfriend praised me for being “very mature” about the break-up.  In fact, we both agreed that the break-up was probably the most cordial we’d been to each other in a while.  Hell, if we could date as well as we could break up, we really coulda been something!

-The first order of business after a break-up is, of course, telling your friends (and for me, tens of thousands of other people) what happened.  I’ve found that guys and girls have very different reactions to the news.  Girls are like, “Oh, that’s so sad. Are you OK?”  Guys are like, “Yes!!  Congratulations, Karo.”  It’s actually kind of annoying to have to tell everyone I know.  I’m even tempted to send people one of those irritating Plaxo emails where you exchange your new contact information.  I’d write, “My fax number is the same, but now I can bang your cousin.”

-There are many other administrative and logistical tasks that come with a break-up as well.  There were pictures to take off the wall.  I had to update my Facebook and MySpace accounts to say “single.”  I had to re-train myself to leave the toilet seat up as well as resume regular grooming of the groin area.  As my return to singilization continues, I’m feeling a bit rusty but my male instincts are definitely coming back.  And right now those instincts are telling me that if I ever want to get laid again, I should probably lose the webcam and Derek Jeter jersey.

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

-I like to work out before I start my day.  On the treadmill in the gym in my building, you have to enter your weight before the machine will start.  There’s no way around it.  Let me tell you, there’s nothing like lying to yourself first thing in the morning.

-Why don’t spammers use real names in the junk mail they send me?  At least try to fool me.  I mean, what are the odds I’m going to open an email from a Mr. Balls McLicken?

-Memo to the men of America: if you meet a chick at a bar named Katrina, whatever you do, don’t bring up her name – pretend it has no significance to you whatsoever.  She’s probably so sick of hearing it that if you ignore it instead you just might get ass.

-I hate when I call customer service and the recording says, “Due to overwhelming demand for our products, you will experience longer than usual wait times.”  That’s funny, I was thinking it’s the incredible shittiness of your products that usually makes people call tech support.  And you ever have the customer service rep put you on hold while they check on an order for you?  Why?  Do they not want me to hear them typing or something?  Are they getting up to go somewhere?  And remember when 10,000 Maniacs was a huge band?  You think back then they ever imagined their heart-wrenching ballads would one day serve as the hold muzak that thousands of disgruntled customers would listen to as they barely choke back their blinding rage?  Iffy.

-“Prison Break” and “Lost” are my two favorite dramas.  They are also the two most illogical shows on television.  For some reason, I’ll let “Lost” slide, but not “Prison Break.”  On “Lost,” there are dinosaurs and polar bears and absurd coincidences and I’m fine with all of it.  But on an episode of “Prison Break,” one of the prisoners had his hair all done up in this cool mini-mohawk.  And I was just sitting there thinking, come on, there’s no way they have access to Redken pomade in prison, this is ridiculous!  I haven’t had my intelligence so insulted since I got a spam email from a Mrs. Van Gina.

-And, finally, I would just like to say that I would not trade the last year and half for anything.  Ex-Girlfriend is an amazing person who taught me a lot and who I love very much.  If you guys remember from Ruminations #50, Ex-Girlfriend is actually a textbook Serial Monogamist – the type of girl that somehow goes from boyfriend to boyfriend without ever really dating in between.  I just got lucky.  I have no doubt she’ll soon be dating someone who’s less funny but better looking than me, while I’m probably destined to hook up randomly for the next ten years.  I’ve even come to believe that, in a way, serious relationships and random hook-ups are not that different.  They’re both all about timing.  If you meet a girl when you are about to move across the country, you’re much less likely to successfully date than if you meet the same girl when you are ready to settle in one spot.  Just like if you meet a chick at a bar at 10pm when you’re sober, you’re much less likely to get head than if you meet the same chick at 3am when you’re both shitcanned.  So, ladies, I’m back in business.  And due to underwhelming demand, there’s no wait at all.  Fuck me.