A single system.

Story time children! Gather round and listen to a tale that changed the lives of two friends named Olivia (that’s me!) and Absol* (that’s my friend!).  
My friend, Absol, looking particularly
 gorgeous today
Photo from: http://images.wikia.com/
Once upon a time, Olivia and Absol decided to go get coffee because both had been up late the night before working on homework (or going on facebook).  They walked out of their office, leaving behind their belongings, because they believed that other people would still be there when they returned. They were quite mistaken.  They returned, with beautiful, caffeine-rich coffees in hand, and were distraught upon seeing the door to the office locked.  
It was decided that the two friends would go off and drink their coffee in a nearby cafeteria.  After a few minutes of bored silence Absol perked up, exclaiming: “Oh he’s cute!” He gestured fairly discretely to a boy walking past the cafeteria.  And, indeed, he was good-looking. 
This simple exclamation began a new fad for the two friends.  They began scoring cute boys as they came through the cafeteria and tried to find the hottest one that walked by.  A score was attributed to each boy that crossed in front of us.  Originally it was out of ten but soon we were adding on points for various reasons that were important to us – “He has a nice walk, it’s confident, he definitely gets two more points for that” or “Look at how he’s dressed, surely he’s a business major, he’s going to have a real job when he graduates and will be able to take care of my poor, English major ass.  5,000 extra points.” 
We rated every boy that traveled through our path and in our enjoyment forgot all about being locked out of the office or our fatigue and desperate need to drink our coffees.  
And thus, the Boy Rating Game, was created.  
The rules: rate cute boys.  
The winner: Everyone wins the Boy Rating Game.  
Absol and I settled on five major categories to rate boys on: Face, Body, Clothing, Mode of Transportation, and Job (or “assumed career”).  Each category was based on a scale of 1(“he’s a’ight”) to 5 (“hot damn”) which gave a boy the possibility of earning a total of 25 points.  
There were some categories that we had to be lenient with because we are on a college campus – which means there are multiple ways of determining the score for “Mode of Transportation” and “Job.”  Since most boys are walking around campus we rated “Mode of Transportation” on the swagger of the boy. And since most of these boys are obviously unemployed we determine the major of the boy based on their attire and then scored appropriately.  
For your convenience  I have created a take-home boy rating sheet.  Just print out one for you and your friend and go judge boys based on their appearances! 

For all ages.
*Name has been changed.  His parent’s didn’t actually name him Absol.

A single kiss.

Real or fake?
Photo from: http://graphics8.nytimes.com

Recently, I worked backstage for a production of “Jekyll and Hyde: The Musical.” At rehearsal I watched as the male and female leads laughed nervously when their scenes lead up to a big kiss but it wasn’t until the week of the show that those nervous laughters turned into an actual on-stage kiss that could have anyone fooled into believing it was real.  As I sat backstage during the show and the music swelled up I knew that they were fooling the audience once again by their fake romance.  And that’s what got me thinking: when is a kiss just a kiss and when does it mean something more? 

If actors can make a fake kiss appear real then it must be easy to make a real kiss mean nothing.  So how can anyone determine when a kiss means nothing or means something? Was there a decoder ring that I was supposed to send in box tops to get as a child? Can I ask Miss Cleo? Who actually knows? 
I’m going to say it: I love to get my mack on.  I do.  It’s always a good time.  But then, after a while, it’s not always good because then that kiss ultimately leads to something more (sex) and this something more (sex) ultimately leads to something else (pregnancy, STI’s, or general confusions).   I was generally confused (and thank God it was only that) after my kiss.  What did I mean to this person? Did I mean anything? Was it going to happen again?                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  
It’s such a simple gesture, kissing, but it has so many bigger implications.  It is everything we want tied up in a single acton but, the problem is, everyone wants something different – is it just sex? is it feelings? No one knows.  So we are stuck sorting out what we want and what we don’t want with a few puckered lips meeting at various times in our lives.  It’s all a confusing mess and if kissing actually did get me pregnant every time I would be so fucked – who needs the emotions and a baby tacked on to go with it? 

Girls who like the taken guy? An avocado
My future career: Avocado
Photo from: http://factoidz.com
Lately the mess I’ve been sorting has been more muddled then ever before.  I kissed people I shouldn’t have and then knowingly did it again.  I’m questioning who I am and if my morales are intact.  I want to know if I’m destined to be the other woman for the rest of my life.  I’m also wondering if I ever will find someone that won’t make me into a mistress-y person. That’s all I want (as my blog followers know).  I want to enjoy kissing without the other complications.  I want to not sound like the ending of the Angry Vagina Monologue.  
So what can I do about this? I can just stop being stupid.  I can just keep kissing.  And, hopefully, I can learn to figure out what is real and what is make believe.  

A single question.

My friend, Kelsey, and I sat in her apartment last night working on a class project that was due the next day.  Time was ticking down towards our deadline and with our laptops poised in front of us and textbooks open, conversation naturally made way to one subject: boys – to be more exact – dating boys.
We both revealed that dating was something we hadn’t done in a while.  The actual act of going out, getting a free meal, seeing a movie and holding hands (all in exchange for us shaving our legs) had escaped our grasps for some time now and we were both ready to get the chance to do so again.  However, instead of blogging about it, she did something.  Something that just impresses me still.  She took her phone and just texted a boy.  Simple.  Straight forward.  She just did it.  
The text:
K: let’s go on a a date
Boy: when?
K: up to you.
You got to love her balls.  Who is brave enough to just ask a boy, any boy, out? That girl.  She didn’t care if he said yes or no. She just wanted to go out on a date.  But that’s Kelsey for you.  She’s as out-goingly cool as they come.  And, maybe, if we were to act a little bit more like Kelsey we could get some more free meals.  
But Kelsey’s simple solution seems to evade most of us, especially me.  What keeps us from just going up and asking that person out? What scares us? It is simply a question that we ask.  We ask questions everyday without fear of penalty: Would you like fries with that? Do these jeans make me look fat? If ‘a’ is squared and ‘b’ is squared does it equal a good time?  Everyday questions arise and we don’t feel panicked but put a penis somewhere in that answer and, lord knows, that we start sweating.  
It just seems that we need to do something to make it so we can all start dating more.  Castration aside, there is only one option for us dateless ones out there: get out of your head.  Float around in atmospheric goop and just go dumbly over to the first person you’re interested in.  Watch as you numbly ask them out.  Be pleased when they say yes.