Daily Elite Daily #4

Dear Mom: 9 Things I Wish You Understood About Why I’m Still Single (Suggested title: Another Broad Indictment of This Deplorable “Dating Culture”)

by Lauren Martin on Jan. 19, 2015

I hate to break it to you, Mom, but dating just isn’t what it used to be.

Is this going to be another dating article that assumes we’re in a hookup culture? You bet it is.

Texting is an acceptable form of rejection and it’s no longer dinner then sex, but sex then maybe dinner (if it was worth it).

This is an absolute fact. No one has dinner first anymore. What is this, 1897?

It’s men in sneakers and women on Instagram. It’s rejection across five forms of communication and sex on seven.

????????????????????

You believe there’s a ton of good guys out there and it’s me jumping to wild stereotypes and scathing assumptions.

Well actually, that’s exactly what you’ve done in this article so far, Ms. Martin.

I’m sure there are good guys out there — actually, I know there are. They’re the ones with girlfriends, or they’re living celibate as monks in Thailand — believe me, I’ve looked and they’re not around here.

So…look elsewhere?

Then again, it may not be the men. It could be the dating culture we’ve created (now downgraded to “hook-up culture”)

And thus, the prophecy is fulfilled.

It could be a collection of things, a mash-up of men, women, social media and the example you’ve set.

This is about the closest she’ll get to anything resembling an intelligent reason, but I fear it will only go downhill from here.

They know if they’re not getting it from you, they can get it somewhere else.

That’s generally how dating works.

Don’t blame it on alcohol; blame it on social media. Try being honorable and dignified in 2015, and all it gets you is a left swipe on Tinder and another Friday night in with Netflix.

I think alcohol can most definitely be blamed more than social media.

You know when you used to say nothing good happens after 11? Well, you were right. Unfortunately, we’re forced to date between 10 and 12, and men know exactly what this means.

The new law, the “Standard Dating Times Act,” passed in 2010 to much controversy.

Cell phones have changed everything about the dating landscape.

Literally everything. Kissing, eating, all changed thanks to cell phones.

You don’t even know what mind games are until you’ve experienced what it’s like to date with texting, Tinder, Instagram and Facebook.

A subtle callback to her previous gem.

You guys did such a sh*tty job that we’re in less of a rush.

I know it seems like a low dig, but it’s the truth. You led by example, and that example was that marriage doesn’t work.

Whose fault is it? Anyone but yours, apparently.

We’ve learned how to date from your mistakes, and if you taught us anything it’s that there’s no greater mistake than committing.

Because 100 percent of marriages lead to unhappiness or divorce, according to recent statistics.

We’re not sold on any American dream.

Um, isn’t the American Dream to get rich and live a wonderful life?

We change course every day, wrestling with those complex choices of guac or no guac, relationship or Netflix.

But the real would you rather: Guac and relationship, or Netflix and no guac?

We’re innovators and inventors, refusing to conform to the mold left by previous generations.

And here the contradictions begin. Clearly she’s not too happy about the current innovations and inventions for this modern dating scene.

We’ve changed the idea of the 9-5, the office culture and the perfect partner. We’re not just looking for someone, we’re looking for “the one.”

But weren’t you just saying that that isn’t the case anymore? And wasn’t your mother probably also looking for “the one”?

We’re thinking about our careers, our friendships and that amazing life we always dreamed of for ourselves.

So was your mother.

Daily Elite Daily #3

Why You’re Mind F*cking More Than You’re F*cking In A Relationship (Suggested title: “Shitty things shitty people do in relationships that don’t last”)

by Lauren Martin on Jan. 13, 2015

Relationships aren’t about love, they’re about f*cking… not each other, but with each other.

I think centuries worth of philosophers might want to argue with you.

Getting a boyfriend is like enrolling in Jedi school for mind tricks.

Not just anyone can enroll in a Jedi school. Show some respect!

You jump into these old, deceptive tricks you forgot you had up your shallow sleeve, and suddenly you’re a f*cking master at psychology and mind reading.

This is probably just semantics but why is the sleeve “shallow”? Or are you collectively saying that all people who have boyfriends are shallow?

You’ve become a professional manipulator, and most of your time is spent plotting your next move rather than spending any time with your partner.

“I don’t have time to eat dinner right now! I’m plotting.”

You study, strategize and calculate each play until you’re basically walking on water.

And here I thought you needed to be the son of God to walk on water.

It’s a wonder any of us manages to get into relationships at all. But that’s what the games are for, aren’t they? We play them to entice and lure our opponents, hoping to trick them into falling in love with us.

Or, I don’t know, maybe we hope to let our qualities speak for themselves and let love develop naturally?

That’s part of the fun of getting into a relationship, isn’t it? If we were upfront with each other to begin with, what else would there be to look forward to?

A healthy relationship?

The number one mind-f*ck in the game. Text me once, I’ll text you an hour later. Text me twice, I’ll delete your number.

I wouldn’t call this a game so much as “severing any chance you have with someone.”

But in reality, I needed to know why you haven’t texted me in the past 36 hours… not that I would respond if you did.

?????????

You don’t actually use dating apps, but in case he checks your phone, you’d like to make it seem like there’s some competition. If this guy wants to be with you, he’d better be willing to work for you.

Does anyone actually do this?

When a woman says she doesn’t want to be exclusive, it doesn’t mean she wants you to start sleeping with other people — it means she wants you to wonder why the hell she doesn’t want to be exclusive.

It can’t possibly mean she doesn’t want to be exclusive?

I haven’t texted you in two days, but I’ll let you know I definitely still have my phone by posting pictures that show me having a great time with hot guys.

Hot guys that you don’t text back? Is there an infinite loop of guys not being texted and desperately refreshing your Instagram?

If you’re hasty, you’ll jump the gun early and reveal in a semi-coy manner how many men you have, or haven’t, slept with.

I’d be much more interested in how many people someone hasn’t slept with based on modern statistics. “So there are currently 3.5 billion men in the world, I haven’t slept with most of those 3.5 billion men.”

You may even somehow manage to throw how big your ex-boyfriend’s package really was into the conversation.

Excellent tactic, I’m sure.

Toward the end of the game, you can start throwing more chips in. Maybe you allude to the idea you won’t know him next month…

WOAH WOAH WOAH. If a girl told me she might not know me next month I’d be afraid she was suffering early Alzheimer’s or something.

You’re getting to the end, the last round, the final leap. So now it’s all about who caves first, who says, “it” first and who cares less — who comes out the lover and who comes out the loved.

Because a healthy relationship involves only one person being in love.

Daily Elite Daily #2

8 Reasons Why you Should Marry the Complicated Girl (suggested subtitle: Marry the Special Snowflake)

by Lauren Skirvin on Dec. 4, 2014

“Why wasn’t it me?” Carrie asked the love of her life right before he married another woman. “No, seriously. I really need to hear you say it. Come on, be a friend.”

“I don’t know. It just got so hard… and she’s…” replied Mr. Big.

“Yeah.”

I know it’s cliché to quote “Sex and the City,” but it’s still so relevant.

Is it cliché to quote Sex and the City? But the bigger question: will this lead to using more Sex and the City analogies to talk about the dating world? The answer is undoubtedly yes.

This episode revealed to girls like me what we’ve subconsciously known for a long time: We are the type of girls you should be with, but you don’t want to be with.

Sweeping generalities: 1
Logic: 0

Carrie is complicated. She doesn’t put up with not getting everything she deserves. She craves more from Big. She has opinions and a life and dreams for the two of them together.

This just in: complicated women don’t put up with not getting everything they deserve, have opinions and lives. Wow, the word must be full of complicated women.

Not that Natasha doesn’t care. But, she is a basic girl who wants to keep the peace at any cost, even if that means she put her needs aside. Her mind isn’t quite as analytical and imaginative as Carrie’s, so she can put up with more. She’s simple.

Nothing screams “A MILLENIAL WROTE THIS” more than using “basic” to describe a woman.

I am not simple. I am a challenge for any man, I will admit. As hard as I try to be the simple girl, it is just not in my nature to be one. I demand more from everyone because I see great potential.

Yes, I’m sure women actively try to be “simple.”

But, a real man knows that by being with a complicated girl, he will be better for it.

Or, I don;t know, I’m just spitballing here, maybe men should be with women who love them, and vice versa.

This is the type of girl you should marry. You may think it’s not what you want, but you want her.

So wait, do I want her or don’t I? I’m confused.

Even stubborn Mr. Big came to realize he didn’t want it easy, and he ended up cheating on Natasha… with Carrie.

SPOILER ALERT

No one will encourage you to follow your dreams.

Literally no one but a “complicated” girl will encourage you to follow your dreams, so you’d better go find one, gentlemen.

And now we finally get into the “8 reasons…”

Marry the girl who tells you exactly what she expects and follows through.

As opposed to the girl who tells you exactly what she doesn’t expect and doesn’t follow through? Because that would be pretty complicated too.

Marry the girl who can talk politics, even if her opinions are different from yours.

If she can’t talk politics, forget about her. Even if she has a PhD in chemistry.

Marry the girl with whom you sometimes fight.

My cousin married a girl he’s never fought with even once and she’s a very articulate woman. Checkmate, atheists.

Don’t get me wrong; a complicated girl who is not yet mature will be a pain in the ass. She will pick fights with you about everything, and you will always feel like a failure in her presence because you won’t know how to make her happy.

But, with a little experience and wisdom, this is the girl who will become wife material. And, once she’s at that point, you better never let her get away, or you’ll risk losing the best thing you ever had.

Experience I get, but wisdom? How does one chance upon that? It seems key to the whole argument here.

Daily Elite Daily #1

Elite Daily is a generally terrible website. So why not take down a bunch of its non-news content? As often as I can, I’m going to do a close dissection of one Elite Daily article. I will not link to it, because that is what the website wants. I will give the headline, date of publication and author so you can search for it, if you so wish.

Why I Believe in Marriage, Just Not Weddings

by Laura Argintar on Dec. 5, 2014

In this article, Ms. Argintar argues, I’m sure for the first time ever, that weddings are insane. I will give her a tiny bit of credit, however, in that she actually backs up some of her claims with links. But that won’t stop me.

I know many of you are already on the defense.

The first line of the piece doesn’t even attempt to hook the reader in. Instead, Argintar smugly assumes people who are reading this have no idea how fucking insane weddings are and will support them to the death.

The $51 billion industry, with over 800,000 employees (including a personal social media concierge who will live-tweet your wedding for a cool $3k…)

Of the 800,000 “employees” of the wedding industry, only one can be the social media concierge. Everyone else is out of luck sorry.

While marriage remains an institution that benefits just two people, weddings are an enterprise and the people who profit most aren’t the bride and groom.

Really? The bride and groom don’t profit from a wedding? But people the bride and groom pay money to actually do profit? Please, tell me more.

It’s the caterers, event spaces, planners, decorators, florists who stand to gain the most from two people falling in love.

Uh, yes. Because they are paid to do their jobs.

Why do we feel the need to consummate the sacred act of marriage by shelling out thousands of dollars on superficial extras, like gold-trimmed place cards?

I don’t think she’s using the right word here, unless somehow spending thousands of dollars on gold-trimmed place cards can now replace having sex on your wedding day.

My friend once received an invitation to a wedding that was a mini record player with a pre-recorded song. This novel prop was just the start of what he recalls was an “insane wedding.”

GODDAMNIT. This was marginally interesting, but she doesn’t expand on what this “insane wedding is.” Is anyone still following her train of thought? Hard to when the next part goes:

Every time I see a 32-year-old woman on TLC saying she wants to look like a princess in a poofy fairytale ball gown, my heart dies a little. Since when did weddings become the new Sweet Sixteens?

In what way does this thought connect to the previous one? I’m lost.

Why are we squealing over penis straws at age 25 like we did when we were 12 and shopping at Urban Outfitters for the first time?

Okay I’ve only ever been in an Urban Outfitters once. Do they sell penis straws?

Beyond the reception, the add-ons to the wedding celebration cost an elaborate amount as well. Instead of One Big Day, a typical couple now has multiple big days: engagement parties, his and her bachelor fetes, bridal showers and rehearsal dinners, further fueling this economic complex.

Engagement parties might be new but I’m pretty sure everything else she mentions has been around for a very long time. Also, nice use of “economic complex.”

It’s basically become more about an exchange of goods and less about an exchange of vows.

I thought it was about people other than the bridge and groom profiting?

I understand that the reception is important. In a cultural context especially, weddings are a time when two families and friends come together and rejoice in the expansion of the clan. But if two people become contractually betrothed and they don’t throw a party after for everyone to celebrate it, does that mean that their union wasn’t legitimate?

No.

Despite 500 words to the contrary, I’m not saying that I’m against celebrating the love and joy and union between two people.

And now 500 words in, any readers still hanging on are throwing up their hands.

What I am conflicted about is the commercialization of this special love. We already have Valentine’s Day, we don’t need to be sold and marketed another overpriced holiday all in the name of finding The One.

Presumably, if you’re getting married you have already found The One.

When I say “I do,” I want it to be to the person I love, not the table linens.

What a way to bring this to a close. Who the fuck would ever say “I do” to table linens?

And Our Hurtful Games Shall Come to a Truce

Sorry for the dramatic title, but I really like Ghostkeeper so I thought I’d quote one of their song titles here.

This marks the last day I’m going to be writing this blog on a regular, day-to-day basis. I’ve given it a bit of thought and I’ve concluded that it’s not in my best interest to continue as I am now. I liked that it forced me to write every day, but almost this entire month has been me forcing myself to come up with things to write about, and most of those times I’m unsatisfied with the way things turn out.

I feel like anyone who’s been reading me since the beginning will (I hope) have learned plenty about me, and I feel like if I bare any more of my soul here then it won’t be long before I end up like the blogger from that season six episode of House.

I won’t be abandoning this blog completely. I’ll probably still write from time to time, because sometimes I just really itch to have a place to write something. But it won’t be with any regularity, I imagine, particularly as I finally start to get busier this summer.

In my last post, I referred to an Important Phone Call I was waiting for. The phone call was confirmation that I’ve been selected to intern at a local news website for the rest of the summer. I likely won’t be spending eight hours a day there, but even so it will probably also seriously impede my ability to sit down and write.

So this is the end of the road for the “blog-a-day” blog. I’ll admit I’m a little disappointed in myself, but such is life.

No way

I don’t know what it is that I’m supposed to be doing.

I can’t tell if I’m failing or succeeding.

It’s always a little bit of both, isn’t it?

The days are all feeling the same to me lately.

Yesterday was the longest day I’ve had in some time, and it was because I really didn’t do anything.

I hate waiting.

Although yesterday I received some (expected) good news.

I’ll be covering North by Northeast again this year.

Still, it’s not exactly something that’s going to fill my days (except for the five festival days).

But what do I do now?

Really only I should know, right?

I should wait for all the pieces to click into place.

And even then, something will probably be “missing.”

This post got a little moody, sorry.

And also kind of abrupt.

Perhaps things will be different tomorrow.

Or they won’t.

How am I to know?

 

Not really feeling it today

I should have expected this as much, but graduating from university is bringing forward the fear that I’ve had in my mind all along. Well, one of the fears anyway.

I was afraid of two things when I started university. The first fear was that I would graduate with nothing in my name published. That fear has been alleviated somewhat thanks to a few articles I wrote for the Ryersonian, my feature in the Ryerson Review of Journalism and (I hope) my helping out with a podcast.

The other thing I was afraid of, and still am terrified of now, is my prospects of finding a job. I know I’m not the only person in my program who’s struggling with this, but every time I see one of my friends get a journalism job somewhere, I feel simultaneously happy for them and insanely jealous. They’ve already succeeded, even if their work is only for a few months. It’s still better than what I have.

Truly though, I sound like I’m complaining about something that’s beyond my control. It’s not beyond my control, in fact. I can actually start looking for jobs, but I don’t even know the first way to go about it. What am I saying, yes I do. I just need to be diligent, something I seem to not be when looking for jobs.

Enough whining though. That’s all I’ll say for today, at least until I get out of this funk.

Audio cabaret

Today I don’t have a hell of a lot of time to write, as I had a “class” earlier in the day and now need to finish the final assignment of my undergraduate degree—which is a thrilling and frightening thing to realize.

I put “class” in quotation marks because it wasn’t a lecture or anything like that- my class and I met up with my instructor at the CBC building on Wellington Street, and then in the building we filed into a room where we listened to all of our final radio documentaries. We also had death-by-chocolate cake (which was still a little warm and therefore amazing) and oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

So in lieu of slightly more detailed writing on something, I’m presenting an audio cabaret of my own, but a mini one. I’m going to link you to three pieces of audio, which are all slightly different. The first is a short radio documentary, the second an hour-long program and the third a song.

Piece one: “The Change in Farming.” (Click the bottom story on the page). This is a really interesting piece about a young composer who makes songs out of stories his grandfather tells him. This guy predates “Autotune the News” by years, and the grandfather is super cool to listen to as well.

Piece two: “When Patents Attack.” This episode from American Life delves into the eerie world of patent trolls- people (usually companies) who buy up patents and then sue other people for infringing on them, even if the company who owns the patents has no intention of even doing anything with them.

Piece three: Fevers- “Passion is Dead (Long Live Fashion)”

In choosing a song, I decided to go with one that features a great mix of sound, and one that might put a spring in your step if you’re doing anything later today.

Tomorrow I hope to be a little more armed with time, but for now, wish me luck on finishing this last stupid assignment.

Tattoos

Lately I’ve been feeling the “tattoo itch”; the unmistakable feeling of someone who already has tattoos that they want another tattoo. I’m not particularly covered in them, but I do have two:

• The first, that I got two years ago, located on my left arm, near the shoulder blade, is a lyric from Owen Pallett’s song “The Butcher.” The line is “Into the mouth of final fantasy” which refers to Owen Pallett’s old performing moniker. I got the tattoo mostly because of how much Owen’s music means to me, and also because even if I were to suddenly hate him, the phrase is beautiful. I don’t know what going into the mouth of final fantasy would look like, and that’s the beauty of it.
• The second, that I got last year, on the inside of my left wrist, is a -30-. Most people outside the journalism field might not recognize the symbol, but most journalists know that it’s copy editing code for “the story has ended.” You could also apply deeper meanings to the -30-, maybe that it means all things eventually come to an end and so one shouldn’t get too, too attached to something.

My third tattoo hasn’t happened yet, but I’m starting to get stronger feelings about what I want it to be. Behold this glorious picture:

This is the Sheep Man, a character from Haruki Murakami’s novels A Wild Sheep Chase and Dance, Dance, Dance. You may recall that I am a big fan of his work. I own something like nine or ten of his books, and I’m currently reading through his short-story collection called Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman. Anyhow, this illustration of the Sheep Man is what I’d like to become my next tattoo. He’s a very interesting character, and he represents the need for people to escape their current identities for a time. Plus, it would crystallize my love for Murakami’s work.

I knew I wanted a Murakami tribute, and I definitely have some other images that could substitute, notably the wind-up bird from Murakami’s epic The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.

Obviously I am someone who is okay with tattoos. I understand well both sides of the argument about marking one’s body permanently. On the people against it’s side, the most compelling argument is that you’ll regret them later, and that’s always something I think about before I go ahead. Hell, people sometimes even regret their tattoos as soon as I get them.

That’s why I always advocate getting a tattoo only when there’s no doubt in your mind. If you entertain even a little kernel of an idea like “Maybe I shouldn’t do this” then don’t do it. Seriously. These things are permanent, and getting a tattoo removed is painful and expensive.

I would also say that you shouldn’t get a tattoo anywhere on your body that might be embarrassing later on. The biggest offender is getting a tattoo anywhere on your face. To those who go for it, by all means, be happy about it. But I know that face tattoos aren’t exactly employable, if you know what I mean.

If I do go through with this Murakami-inspired tattoo, it’ll be my first visual (as opposed to text) tattoo.

Fatigue

I guess I’ve been saying this every day since CMW stated on Tuesday, but man am I tired. Yesterday was a madcap day that had me going from a rock n’ roll spin class to an apartment party to the Dakota Tavern to the Garrison to Rancho Relaxo all in one day.

The physical exhaustion has come to such a point that it’s started to affect my thinking and attention. On Friday night, I got to the Gladstone Hotel way too late and accidentally missed Andy Shauf because, even though in my mind I knew the showcase started at 8, something in my mind said 9.

And then yesterday I started my Four Corners photography project. My first intersection I decided to do was King and Spadina. Not only did I put the date of pictures as 2012 instead of 2013, I even mislabeled a corner (I think I had, in my four-photo set, two corners labeled NW).

And so the more tired I get, the more things start to feel really weird and even surreal to me. Like the fact that I actually speed-walked from Ossington and Dundas to Spadina and College-ish because the fucking 505 streetcar would have gotten me to Papermaps’ set at Rancho way too late.

And then I noticed that at not one, but two of the venues I was at last night, I noticed a woman who was taking pictures of bands with her cellphone, but for some bizarre reason she held her phone on a diagonal angle, giving her photos a weird sideways view. I don’t even know if it was the same woman at both showcases, but I just didn’t understand why she had to do that.

This is truly what physical deterioration feels like. I’ve been out of the house these past two days for nearly half those days and I’m probably not even going to go to any shows tonight in attempt to revitalize myself for heading back to school tomorrow.

There are actually a few more showcases happening Sunday than I recall from the last time I looked, but it might have just been a product of going “eh, nothing on this bill really makes me want to attend.” If anything I’ll probably head to Rancho, if I do decide to go, because it has consistently good bookings.

This is Michael, currently of questionable mental and physical well-being, signing off for today. I hope calm, collected and well-rested Michael returns tomorrow. But we’ll see.