“Cliché Away” (What I Learned)

Posted by Stephen

“A cliché or cliche is an expression, idea, or element of an artistic work which has become overused to the point of losing its original meaning, or effect, and even, to the point of being trite or irritating, especially when at some earlier time it was considered meaningful or novel. The term is frequently used in modern culture for an action or idea that is expected or predictable, based on a prior event.”

I’d like to comment on cliches to summarize some of the things I’ve learned because, people who stay away from things deemed a “cliche” must have some sad and cynical bones in their body, too guarded to ever really really learn anything about life first hand. Or maybe I’m just talking about myself.

In a world of over exposed stories and people experiencing the same thing all around the world, I now know that I have been in hiding, not fully living my life by trying to skip out on many of life’s cliches. Whether it was not going up to a girl in a bar, or not putting myself in a vulnerable position with my friends, or just avoiding doing well intentioned things that would come off as corny, I am guilty of all of it. Should I not tell a girl she has nice eyes because 90 million people have done it before me, even if it’s true? Should I not say to my best guy friends that I don’t think that we get deep enough in our conversations, even if I truly feel that way?

It took me all of about less than one day to go on my first date after the 4th quarter ended. It was however totally unplanned. and a total cliche from a romance movie that I would have scoffed at and dismissed as stupid had it not been happening to me in real-time. I’ll keep this part short. I moved seats cause I nicely asked someone in front of me to switch seats because they had more leg room and they actually switched, to my shock and grace. And then I turn to my left and there is a girl, a girl that is worth talking to.

Packed with 90 days of energy waiting for a situation like this, coupled with the fact that I was sitting right next to her, and there was no loud music playing, I was feeling my most comfortable for an approach. A little Xanax for “fear of flying” probably didn’t hurt my confidence either. Long story short is that things went well, we talked for quite a long time on a red-eye that we both should have been sleeping on. Instead I bought her 3 glasses of wine and made her admit it was a date since I paid for the wine. And I told her about this blog, the first strange girl with whom it was actually relevant to bring it up to. Words like serendipity and fate got thrown around… that was probably the wine talking but who knows? I got a number… how ’bout them apples.

Only in retelling the story to friends did it truly become apparent to me how cliche it really was. I found out later she was supposed to be in another seat too, so who really knows anyway. All I know is that i was forward and direct, and nice and it worked out about as well as it could have hoped for the time being.

After that, it was days of over-analyzing with friends, and wondering all the different ways it could end, or end up. I felt so uncomfortable meeting someone with promise and being back in the unknown.  I hadn’t felt like this in a really long time, and it wasn’t because she was the one I’m destined to marry. It was because I had finally put myself back into a vulnerable position, where I have expectations and hopes and it just might not turn out the way I want. Unfortunately, being vulnerable seems to be the only way to find who and what is right for me, so here we go.

I guess what I’m trying to say is: Even if you’re “always a bridesmaid, never the bride” and you’re “all dressed up with nowhere to go” don’t “abandon ship” even if “all hell breaks loose” because “absence makes the heart grow fonder” and “all’s fair in love and war.”

Thanks for reading!

“How Did Your Project Go?

I just ran into my friend [T] who I don’t see very often. He was with another woman, and without giving her context asked, “How did your project go?”

“What’s the project?” She wanted to know.

I replied, “I’m a failure.”

“Oh my god. That can’t be the project. And I just met you but I can already tell that’s not true.”

“Well. Right, thanks. That’s not the project. But I did fail at it. The project was not dating for Q4 -”

“Wow, that’s hard.”

“Yeah! Apparently it is. Which is the bright side I guess.”

“So what happened?” [T] asked.

“I went on non-dates and I got a non-boyfriend. In the beginning when I still thought everything was fake I was really happy. Then when things turned out to be real, I got really depressed. I realized I still have terrible relationship issues that can’t be cured with a blog and that I should be in therapy.”

They thought it was really funny. [T], who is a literary agent, told me that I should turn it into a one woman show. I said it could be called, “Dating is a Crime Against Humanity.”

“Yes! It totally is!” agreed the other woman. “It is totally awkward and annoying. But don’t say it too loud – someone will steal your idea.”

“It’s not even that. It’s that we treat people we date in a horrible way we’d never treat another human being. We lie to them, we talk about them behind their back, we judge them harshly for the tiniest of flaws.”

“So,” asked [T]. “Have you been kinder to other people during this quarter?”

“Um….”

“Ok, have you been kinder to yourself?”

That one I knew the answer to. “In the beginning definitely. In the beginning it was good and fun. Then, you know…the non-relationship…so, now…not at all kind to myself.” In a fake crying voice I added, “I hate myself!”

They laughed and he said I should move to LA and be a real writer instead of staying here in SF to market marketing.

Although I wasn’t kidding about hating myself, given how unkind I’ve been to myself lately, it was nice to have more affirmation that the 4thQC at least comes across as a good learning experience if not an example of how to be a good rule follower.

And it’s also a good reminder of how important storytelling is to me. I have so little compassion for myself right now, and when you feel that worthless and empty, it’s so easy to just close down and crawl in a hole. I’m sure that humor is not as effective as therapy, but it is an example of how the tiniest action can be so meaningful as you start to chip away at a big problem.

Even though Stephen wrote recently that he was angry at himself for not writing, I am so proud and impressed (as are others) by everything he’s written. It’s so easy to ignore achievement in ourselves and others just because it could have been a bigger achievement. But forgetting to celebrate effort and intention will lead to perpetual dissatisfaction – both with your own life and other people. In fact, I’d say it’s a crime against humanity.

63 Day Check In

Posted by Stephen

I haven’t written in a while, which makes me feel like a procrastinator. Now, I’m actually quite okay with admitting to being a procrastinator, but there was something more than that. Since I wrote a post a while back saying how important it was to be able to want things from people in your life without feeling needy, I was really starting to feel like a hypocrite when people asked me when I was going to write again. Basically, I was doing the blog version of refusing to wash the dishes. While procrastination is something we all know and love, feeling like a hypocrite is not something that’s sitting well with me.

I know it’s been a long time since I last wrote, but there’s no great story behind it: I just didn’t feel like writing. I always wanted to keep this blog reflective and funny, and I didn’t want to use this as a forum to whine about the project I volunteered for. That being said,  this adventure has not been fun, or easy…but it’s doing its job of giving me some new perspective.

You see, as a guy, girls don’t approach me the way that guys approach my sister. I haven’t had to explain myself to one stranger yet about this challenge or the blog. Not because I was hiding it — just cause it has never come up in conversation, and I’m not looking to broadcast it. To compound that, and also to do my best to avoid situations where I might break the rules, the last two months have been pretty isolating, and I haven’t had too many funny situations that I felt necessary to report or document here.

But the 4thQC has left me plenty of time to think and evaluate where I am and what I want. Because when I’m in dating mode, I’m constantly talking to other people and asking them about their lives: their jobs, their interests, their hopes and dreams. Perhaps most importantly, the whole time I’m asking questions, I’m also assessing to see if I believe the answers. This doesn’t leave a lot of time in the day for me to ask myself those very same questions and see if I believe what I am telling myself.

And even though it led me to not want to write for a while as I worked through those things, ultimately I started to really feel bad that I wasn’t writing. I could brush off other people who were asking me why I haven’t written, but I could not tune myself out.

So I’m back, and I’m here to finish what I started. Nothing like having my sister getting our blog published on Elle.com to give me a little extra guilty push to get back on the horse! A big congratulations to Rachel is in order for that one…

Here’s to one more month.

So Many Likes, So Little Support

Posted by Stephen

If I were to put up a screen shot on Instagram of this blog to let people know that I was writing, I imagine that a lot more people would “like” that picture than would actually would read my posts.

This got me thinking about what real support is – in a friendship or in a relationship. For instance, there are some important people in my life who I’ve told about this blog who have yet to read a single post. But that’s okay. I can’t judge because I’ve been guilty of not reading my sister’s blog when she’s had one by herself in the past. (editor’s note: wtf??!!$%$#) The bottom line is: It’s hard to be a genuine supporter – we’re all busy with our own lives and it takes more effort to actually read things than it does to double tap a picture with one’s thumb.

Along the same lines, my sister and I were talking the other day about how it’s hard to ask for things in a relationship. As of right now, I’d rather not have to ask some of my friends more than once to read the blog. I’d rather just keep writing and sharing with those who have shown even minor interest. In my ideal friendship, or relationship, I would only have to ask for something once, and that person would listen and respond accordingly. I don’t like feeling needy, or like I’m making someone do something against their will. If you have to ask for something too often, it sort of loses its meaning when you finally get it. Ideally, in a relationship, your friend/partner takes some pleasure/satisfaction in doing things that will make you happy. It’s the old  “I want you to WANT to do the dishes” philosophy.

But maybe that’s just not possible. In a digital world where everyone spreads themselves too thin, keeping tabs on old exes and “friends” that they barely ever see, there’s not a lot of time left in the day to be a truly good friend to your real friends, or even pick up a hobby. Friends of mine have half jokingly told me how Instagram has led them into false “Instagram relationships” with models, celebrities or other people they’ve never met. Newsflash: just because you know where the chick from the “Blurred Lines” video is eating, does not mean you are in the room with her.

So when I go to dinner with three of my friends, and all three of them are on their phones, checking some social media platform to see what others are doing, excuse me for sounding old-fashioned when I say, “Put the damn phone down, and let’s be in the moment and talk about something interesting.”

This time I’ll be prepared to ask more than once.

A Letter from Italy

Post from Stephen

Hello Everyone,

I’m writing to you from one of the most romantic countries in the world: Italy. Or, given my current social experiment, the best place to eat my feelings.

With two meals of delicious pasta per day, plus enough wine and grappa to help me sleep in peace at night, I’m finding it surprisingly easy to live without some Italian woman’s company. In fact, it’s been so easy that I’m ready to apply for a visa, move to Italy, swear off women altogether, and instead marry the largest white truffle I can find. (And before you get preachy on me – this is not a race thing. It just happens to be white truffle season and I like to live in the moment.)

You see, after one or two intoxicating whiffs of my darling white truffle, it was love at first smell. My whole future flashed in front of me: a small wedding with me and my truffle bride to be, plus the pigs who no doubt sniffed her out of the dirt and put her before me. And since these days, everyone who gets married has to have a cute corresponding hashtag so everyone can find ten different versions of the same blurry wedding picture on Instagram, mine would be #foodporn. This way when any of my guests hashtagged #foodporn at the wedding they would be the first genuine #foodporn witnesses, as opposed to the all the hipsters who think they’re being funny.

I can hear my beautiful white truffle bride calling to me from the honeymoon suite now: “EEEEEAT ME!” (Sorry Mom, check out Immaculate Infatuation’s blog to get the reference and you won’t care as much…)

But I digress. This 90-day experiment was meant to be a transitional period where I work on myself and come out a better person, not a complete life diversion towards a love affair with a highly delicious and valuable piece of produce.

And in fact, aside from my truffle day dreams, this 90-day pledge of abstinence is actually working for me on this trip abroad. Instead of worrying about time differences, and making sure I connect with the girl or girlfriend of the moment to update her on my time here, or look for a gift to give her when I get home, I’m not worried about those things–or anything else but the moment. I’m just focused on enjoying a country I’ve never been to before, and spending quality time with my father.

My five hour drive from Rome to Milan was filled with beautiful scenery and dramatic landscapes – but also beautiful rolling mountains that as I previously feared, started looking like breasts about half way through the trip. And since I still I have over 60 days to go, I realized I’m totally fucked…just not in the way I hoped. So my cute hashtag for my sexual hunger strike will be #Focus…(marriage hashtag TBD). Because if this guy in the picture at the top can focus hard enough to keep his stick out of the center of those flowers every day while floating in the air, I certainly can do the same for the next 2 months with both feet on the ground.

Letting Go, Without Letting Yourself Go

Posted by Stephen

Letting Go, Without Letting Yourself Go…Is this even possible? Aside from coming to the realization that this whole experiment is going to be insanely awful and potentially make me go crazy, I’ve realized that the hardest thing throughout this experiment will be to keep myself together while having no one to impress but myself.

I was only joking when I talked about getting holed up on my couch and playing video games for 90 days, but since I got back from LA that option seems as real as it does frightening. Keeping yourself interesting and put together is hard work, especially when you have no new impressions to make to keep you motivated. And as a self-stated procrastinator, my thumbs keep gravitating towards that PlayStation 3 controller.

90 days is an insanely long time to try and attempt to not date or sleep with anyone. As a reference point, people in Hollywood thought that “40 days and 40 nights” was about as believable of a time frame as it gets for a guy to abstain. By day 35 or so in the movie, Josh Hartnett’s character was a complete dirty mess, and seeing pairs of tits on foreheads and street signs … I’m hoping I don’t get to this point, but I can’t make any promises … so if you see me staring at your forehead or off into the distance, please snap your fingers or shake the shit out of me and tell me to KEEP IT TOGETHER.

The idea of being able to keep yourself motivated and interesting is difficult but it is also essential. In the past I’ve believed that once I’ve had a girlfriend, things got stale because eventually I stopped trying (or feeling the need) to impress the other person because we’d achieved a level of ideal comfortableness. But if that’s what’s happened in the past, I was doing it for the wrong person. I should be staying interesting for me because I want to live an interesting life. Yes, initially it’s great to come off as interesting to someone else, but if I’m looking for long-term happiness with or without someone else, I’ve got to try and keep things fresh for myself first. This way, I hopefully don’t end up resenting the girl to whom I initially sold myself as intriguing because I think shes’s responsible for turning me into something less than advertised.

With all that said, my hands are now reaching for not the PlayStation controller, but the back hair trimmer, the gym card, and Timeout New York magazine, so I can keep things fresh on my hiatus, and come out of this awful cocoon an interesting and beautiful butterfly.

Tinder, Part II, or: Why Friend Dates Are The Newest Rule

(From Stephen’s Tinder)

I have to say, given last night’s post, I laughed out loud when I came across this picture today. Filled with some anxious feelings about producing a second entry that was still worthwhile, this picture really lightened my mood.

So I came home, poured a glass of bourbon from a bottle that I bought my ex girlfriend for her birthday, and sat back down to really think and write about how inspirational this picture really was. (First lesson: ALWAYS give gifts that you can appreciate by yourself if everything goes to shit.)

This picture first inspired me to laugh, alone, and then it inspired me to put the fucking phone down and stop Tindering – even before I bothered to swipe left.

But then I got to thinking and realized this picture is more than just blatant affirmation of my hatred for the skinny arm pose. I saw these two girls and the next thing that I was inspired to do was add another rule: Just because you’re not dating, doesn’t mean you can do date-like things (or hood rat shit) with your friends. In fact, that’s the point of this period of time: continuing experiencing life with the people who already enrich it.

When I was aggressively dating, I was going on 1-2 dates a week on average. I will continue to take trips to cool bars, bowling, or any new adventures that this city may offer, just with my friends instead.

I believe that is really one of the main points of this whole no dating experiment and I believe it will also lead to more interesting posts as a result. Without this extra rule, I could easily have been sucked into the world of Grand Theft Auto 5, stealing Ferraris and robbing banks and beating up random people on fake streets and making it rain in the fake strip clubs of “Los Santos”… But thanks to these two girls I’ll absolutely never meet, maybe this blog and myself have a fighting chance at staying interesting or relevant.

So I guess what I’m trying to say is: THANK YOU Megan, 22, 0 common interests and 0 common friends.

Love Me Tinder

                                                                               (via Stephen’s Instagram)

Hello Blog. My name is Stephen. I’m a procrastinator (although I really was busy in L.A. as Rachel alluded to), and often have been referred to as the “Cliff Notes” in comparison to my darling sister (the “book.”) We tried – and failed – to do a joint blog last year, but I know I’m here for the long haul this time. (I also know that I’m 6’6″ and that I stopped growing some time around senior year of high school, so the next time anyone who reads this sees me, please refrain from telling me “you’re so tall” — I know am, because I often look in the mirror, and odds are that I had to bend over slightly to hear you say it. Also please don’t ask or tell me that I’ve grown since the last time we saw each other… I haven’t grown, you just have a bad memory.)

Anyway… the experiment. I’m fresh off of a relationship that was fun, but not the answer to my long term needs. After many in depth conversations with Rachel about what we both need in our lives, we came to the agreement that we were both in need of some “me time.” I’ve been told that when you choose one thing (or person), it in essence means you’ve chosen NOT everything ( or everyone) else. What led me here was a deep feeling of missing out on many other things I needed to work on in my life, which became quite hard to balance while having a girlfriend ( or dating others). Since I stereotypically have a fear of commitment just like any other douche bag guy, a 90 day commitment to a blog and also to no women seemed the most realistic thing that I could pledge my time to. It also seemed like a great outlet for me to hone my writing skills, and share my sensitive yet unfiltered thoughts on life and the people around me.

Rachel began with some rules, guidelines or whatever you wanna call them to give some shape and reason to document our fourth quarter of alone-time. What’s funny is that “alone time” in this sense means not dating anyone, yet I think that living without wondering about the judgement of the opposite sex, I’ll probably feel less alone than I have in a long while. When the pressure is lifted, I foresee many other doors opened and new experiences ahead.

So my rules are simple: 1) No taking anyone on dates. 2) No deliberate pick up attempts. 3) Do what I want, when I want when it comes to all things not in the romance category 4) No Physical Promiscuity.

And that’s about it. But alas, my ego will for sure get in the way and I will allow myself to play the “hot or not” game that is Tinder, as often as I like, so long as nothing comes of it other than finding out if some girl I’ll never meet thinks I’m cute.

The documentation of the next few months will be full of self-reflection and most likely some snide comments about why I got sick of dating girls that I meet or see. Hopefully I will spend my time working on personal goals such as writing and getting back into shape so that when this hellish 90 days of no action is over, it won’t take me too long to start grabbing numbers again.

In closing…Ladies, chill with the skinny arm pose. You’re not in a Miss America Pageant and you’re not a Kardashian on the red carpet. If you care so much about your arms, use that time you’ve spent perfecting that pose and get some real toning going, because you’re not fooling ANY guy, and the second that arm drops, you’re back at square one (or getting swiped to the left for a big fat NO on tinder).