Slim (or less so) Pickings

I have just come to the horrible realization that women are getting married.

There are only a certain number of women in the entire world who are my age. Now, while the acceptable age range grows, availability of women is decreasing at an exponential rate. Women are getting married, turning gay, dying, and becoming bitter, jaded shells of feigned human compassion everyday (see "Independent" Woman, or Female Dick). At any rate, there are fewer and fewer women available and once they're off the market they are almost always lost forever. They are a non-renewable resource until I can be frozen in time and awaken to an entirely new demographic; something which I would be very adamant against. I don't have anything in common with people who were born in 1989. I can't imagine what I wouldn't have in common with someone who were born in 2029.

Part of me says, "Shit, I gotta get on that," but there is the more prevalent problem that women don't look their age. It seems to me that women hit puberty and look anywhere from 15 to 28. Somewhere along the way to 28-hood, they suddenly become much older and fall into the 28-35 range. So I have no way of identifying a woman who is 23 with any degree of certainty that she isn't an old looking 17 year old. Similarly, I have no way of positively asserting that someone who appears to be 28 isn't actually 23.

Perhaps if I can break through the 28 year barrier I can enter a new and wonderful realm of sensible women in their early 30s who look and act their age. Unfortunately, I don't know if, at the age of 28, I'll be able to act mine.

Be Married

I just finished catching up with one of the few people I met last year at school. When I first met her I thought to myself "now here is a very attractive, smart, cheerful, bright, all around positive woman my age and she's sitting down next to me and talking to me. This can't be happening."

I soon found out in that semester that she was engaged to be married this past summer. After that, I had no problems talking to her. There really wasn't anything for me to be nervous about. There wasn't anything on the line.

I tried to work myself up to talk to this other girl in the same class. Well, the day I was going to ask her if she wanted to do something was the day she stopped coming to class. I emailed her and asked her what was up and suggested that we get together. She said we should and we back and forth'd a bit, and then I never heard from her again.

This is the case of so many single girls. Hook up with a single girl, get rejected. Talk to a single girl, she leaves the class. Friend of a friend, potential lesbian. Primed for a blind date, mysterious disappearance. Try and sit next to a girl in class, she moves to the other side of the room.

My conclusion is thus: Fuck single girls. One of the most fun times I've ever had in my life is stealing a girl from her boyfriend. Yeah, that ended poorly, and the type of girl that'll leave her boyfriend for me is the type of girl that'll leave me for her new boyfriend, but shit, that wasn't so bad, was it? So maybe the plan should be to subvert boyfriend "authority" and steal a girl who is already taken.

For all the talk I do about not wanting to do marketing because I don't like the idea of a competitive market, I sure do like winning. I like being better than someone else. And watching a social dynamic shift in my favour is the highest form of entertainment I have ever experienced.

Maybe I am enough of a bastard for marketing.

The One

You know, the idea that there is just one perfect person out there for you, while romantic on the surface, is a just a sign of one's inability to commit.

Commitment isn't being with the perfect person; that's just logic. Commitment is being with someone who is imperfect and there always being a possibility of someone out there being more. Commitment is making a choice and standing by it. After all, what happens when you meet that perfect person the day after your wedding? What happens when you meet them twenty years later and you have kids with someone else?

If you believe in "the one," then you either have to cut and run, or live the rest of your life in the misery of knowing that you'll never be with "the one."

Personally, I just want a good one.

A night out.

My brother got married today.

We drank, we laughed, we drank some more.



I want to work at the bank. We went down to the Met afterwards and I tried dancing, but I couldn't get into it. I don't want to dance with some stranger at a bar. What's the point. I looked out the window and saw the bank. I though to myself, "I want to drink me drink because it is Friday, but I want to got to work on Monday morning in my suit and tell people the way that I think the world should be run.

It's weird that the prelude to a marriage if fraught with me thinking that love is above all else in my life and that I wish that I could believe in something more. Yet after the marriage I went out and thought that there was something beyond love that I could want out of life; and that love and a career can occur at the same time... but not tonight.

Tonight, I was a man divided. Though I am always there for my brother, I may also always be caught up wondering about my own life. I wonder, though I don't envision a day like today being held in my honour, if we have a future. I wonder if I can let myself share this, and if you can share this with me. I wonder why tonight no other girl, not in all of their makeup, not in their fanciest dress, not with copious amounts of liquor, and not in the loverly mood of a wedding, I wonder why not one girl could compete with a simple phone call.


Not one.




But, alas, here's to the bride and groom. I hope that I will find my way as you did yours.