Your Memory Is A Monster

Completely anonymous, letting the guilty live free and the interested live happily.

It really is terrible advice. April 28, 2008

Filed under: Men Life Gossip — memorymonster @ 7:11 am
Tags: , , , , , , ,

A 13 year old could give you this advice: “Don’t be sad it’s over; be glad it happened.” They won’t say it (or punctuate it) so well, but they get the idea, and they know that somewhere between 13 and grown up, we probably kind of forgot.

But 13 year olds are idiots, try not to forget that. 

We are always sad when things are over. Vacations, weekends, parties. The bartender says “Last Call” and, if we aren’t ready to drag ourselves home, if we want to keep talking or playing or flirting, we hate the announcement. We sometimes comes to acknowledge that, while it was a great day or party or date, had it lasted much longer, it wouldn’t be so great. We are, in fact, glad that it happened and glad that it ended when it did. Otherwise, we’d be facing sunburns, alcohol poisoning, or boredom. 

Everything is different when it comes to relationships. Marriages end and people start chanting that they’ve wasted so much time, because it’s over. They try to embrace that advice from the 13 year old, but it doesn’t seem to fit. Again, remember: they are idiots. It sucks that it’s over. Of course it does. And it wouldn’t have become worse for having gone on longer, it became worse because you discovered some kind of incompatibility. Things change. And so they end. And you think you’ve wasted time because it wasn’t right.

But you’ve forgotten that everything is a process. And that 13 year old has yet to understand this, causing them to give you nice-sounding, but ultimately ineffective advice. 

The failed relationship is a part of the process. When you get to the person who is right, well, you or him or it wouldn’t be right had you skipped the step of the failed relationship. You have been changed and therefore prepared for the eventual right person.

So again, be glad that it happened and glad it’s over. You will have “wasted” just the right amount of time.

Thank Jerkface McExboyfriend, Asshat O’Onenightstand, Friendwithbenefits Johnson and Exboyfriend McStillyourfriend. 

They trained you for your eventual happy ending. 


I match socks. You match _______. December 15, 2007

So three of my best lady friends have joined the dating website referenced in the title of this blog. I refuse to actually refer to it.
One was uniquely lucky in that she started and has continued a lasting, long-term relationship on the second of her “match dates.”
One has been uniquely unlucky in that she’s been out with at least 10 guys, sometimes more than once, but has yet to meet a “match.”
These guys are real pieces, too, if you ask me.
Which, let’s assume, you did.
One talked to her on the phone, post-date, arranging a possible next date, only to minutes later send a text that reads “I had a nice time with you but don’t think we click. Sorry.”
One, after the first date, became her friend on Myspace, started messaging one of her top friends, and then started dating that person.
One spent an entire date talking about his ex-girlfriend/soulmate with whom he has one of those “if we’re not married by 35, we’ll marry each other” pacts. He brought up this ex on the first date.
My third internet dating friend is new to this world, and seems a little wrong for it.
Sure, she’s watched one friend succeed, and one, let’s say, continue to try. She’s seen them whisked away on dates, excited by prospects, arrive home late at night with stories to tell. She wants a piece, and we all do, really.
But she can’t describe herself on a profile because she’s the kind of person who doesn’t tell you she is kind and loyal. That’s how kind and loyal she is.
She can’t e-banter with these guys because she doesn’t want to hurt feelings with a sarcast remark I suggest. She doesn’t want to have to wonder if he meant to hurt her feelings with a short response or a strange comment.
I don’t know what drives them all to this means. They all have declared, either to me or on their profiles, that they are “independent” women who don’t “need” men. I believe them. But they surely do not.
I know that things change over time and that the most successful among us will always know when, exactly, to adapt and when, exactly, to resist passing fads. I know that online dating is not a passing fad. It is too easy of an answer for the most common of questions.
But should I, you, all of us single people in the world adapt to this change? I think it’s something that would make many so intensely uncomfortable that things are doomed to fail, reinforcing our ideas that we are, perhaps, unloveable.


It isn’t like that anymore. November 15, 2007

Filed under: Men Life Gossip — memorymonster @ 7:18 am
Tags: , , , , , ,

I’ve found myself becoming more attracted to a man’s health insurance plan than his McDreamy hair or Zach Braff-ian charm.
Clearly, I watch too many medical TV shows.
Remember when you liked someone for them? I know, that’s the goal our mothers try to give us: find someone who loves you for you. Find someone you love as they are.
But it isn’t like that anymore.
Tolerate who they are, enjoy some things about them, yes.
Just as important: Their extras.
We’re not just looking for a rich family. In fact, most women are smart enough to know that a rich family is as dangerous and emotionally trying as they are beneficial.
Now I want a low co-pay, a decent prescription plan.
Now I can deal with dull at parties if I can trade in for does the grocery shopping on his way home from work.
Now I know I can slowly improve his passive agression, and I am willing to climb that hill for battle, so long as you have no debt other than college loans.
How my mother would smile and shake her head. I don’t love him for who he is because I am looking past who he is, ready to change who he is.
We can have disparate taste in movies, I can even hate your taste in movies, if your job gives you a company car we can take road trips in.
These are just sample trades.
Now I know, after being in several weddings, to ask on the first date if your parents drink, or at least don’t condemn it. If you have the parents who don’t want beer at their son’s wedding, then a first date is as far as we need to go.
When she tells me, my mom, that I am going about this the wrong way, I’ll remind her of who my dad used to be, before I knew him, before he knew what she was worth. Worth selling the sports car for something family friendly. Worth commuting to work so she’d be close to her job.
Men have been making the trades, determining the value of changing something, sticking with something, persuring something, moving the tangible around so that the intangible (the love, the sugar, the sweetness and goop) comes at the smallest cost and provides a good return.

So, tell me, do you need a referral to specialist?