Since my last break up, I’ve never really followed through on anything.
To be honest, I don’t really do much. Installing a toolbar for Mafia Wars on Facebook and watching the first season of Lost are really the most productive things I have done outside of school and work.
I tried cleaning my room, but that just turned all of things that were in my closet into piles on my floor. There are diet and workout books that I have only read the first chapters of that taunt me as they sit on my bookshelf.
Most of the time, my diet consists of whatever is the shortest line at the U.C. Satellite, and my workout involves walking from a distant parking spot.
I asked for suggestions for this column at the beginning of the semester and didn’t really follow through writing on the suggestions. But there has been one that still sticks in mind, which was to try new things.
So I started to think of all the fun things I could try and how quickly it would get out of hand. There would be speed dating, then Internet dating … pretty much anything with the word dating in it. With no real direction, it would only be a matter of time before I would find myself posing naked in art class just trying to outdo myself. I don’t want to pose naked; I just want to level up on Mafia Wars.
And then spring break happened. I got bored. To fill time, I went to a bookstore at the mall in my neighborhood and just started looking at magazines. There was advice for everything; for instance, how to attract the opposite sex or how to build a body that is ready for the beach. Celebrity Jeffrey Donovan, who plays Michael Weston on Burn Notice, even shares his workout secret.
However, there was no advice for the things I was doing on break. No celebrities talking about how to be a better shut-in, no advice on building up your mafia and not even one magazine that taught their readers how to repel the opposite sex, which were becoming the things I could write about.
I could do 600 words on how to cancel plans with your friends so you can watch T.V. There has to be at least 500 words I could write on how to get the orange Cheeto dust off your hands using just the bag.
Then I started to think about trying something new, and what if somebody found this advice in the bookstore and just took it? No questions asked of anything that can improve your sex life, just mindless fallowing. How would things turn out? Would they morph into one of the all-time playboys, or would they just end up an overweight guy with a waxed chest?
This is what I want to know, and it is the direction I needed to try for this sex column. One thing for sure is that he would not end up doing his best statue of David impersonation while students question why he has a shark tattoo running across his left side.
