To Call or Not to Call

So here's the scenario. So I'm sitting there with my phone in my hand. I'm looking at the screen where I have the contact information for a lady displayed. In fact, all I would have to do to make a call is make one movement of my finger. I sit there staring at it. The screen goes to sleep. I wake it up. I stare at it some more. I notice that it says I have some notifications. I check the notifications. Just updates that I don't want to make right now. I press the back button and the contact information is on the screen again. I stare at it some more. I go shower. I come back, unlock my phone and the contact information is still on the screen. I set my phone down on the desk and stare at it. I unplug my computer, slide away from my desk, set my laptop on top of my lap, check e-mail, the Facebook, and then proceed to write a blog post.

This is not a one time occurrence. Which really makes me ask the question, Why?

I don't know. In reality I've always hated phones. Making phone calls of any kind really is not my favorite thing to do. I don't know what to do when I'm talking on the phone. Normally I pace a lot, but people stare as I agitatedly go back and forth across the floor. The last time I talked to a girl on the phone (like a conversation, not the usual, "Hey, you wanna go out?"-"Nope"-"Cool" exchange) I played a lot of spider solitaire and Mahjong Titans. When I talk to my ma I'm usually walking somewhere, doing homework, or pulling out papers and looking up data to confirm key conversation points. Some people can sit there and talk. I cannot.

Text messages are just impersonal enough for me to be comfortable with them, but you can't ask girls out via text message. With text messages I can read, reflect, and respond. I can delete what I was typing and try again. I can wait to respond if it's not a great time. I'm generally pretty good about getting back to people.

In essence, I'm really not so great at the whole human connection thing anymore. After years of perfecting my detachedness, aloofness, and after years of erecting barriers and walls, I might have unfortunately passed the point of no return (the final threshold).

You know how people always say, "Keep in touch." I don't. Like, I don't say that, and I don't keep in touch. I would be the worst pen pal in history. Except that I like writing, and writing a complete stranger is slightly more appealing than establishing bonds with a real live human (Because let's face it, unless you Facebook stalk a pen pal, thus attaching a life to the name, they're not a real person). Humans freak me out a little bit. And before you say, "But Matt, you are a human," think very carefully about whether or not that's actually true.

I feel like these could potentially be major problems. And man, have I got a long list of excuses to not bother fixing them. And yet, despite myself, I have somehow formed new connections with people that have gone beyond the superficial. I know (and have evidence) that it is possible. Maybe there are just (at least) two me's that are living simultaneous lives, one emotional and relatable, the other one more machine than man now.

But back to the phone. When I make these calls, I have not expectations. It has nothing to do with what comes before, and nothing to do with what comes after. I don't even really think about the after. It's the act of calling that I cannot do. I should just get a personal secretary who will dial the phone for me. I think that would be ideal. The secretary makes the call and says, "I have a Mr. Matthew Fife on the line for you, one moment please," and then I can continue with everything all normal like. The talking isn't the issue. I can talk. I can talk forever. I can talk about something or nothing. I can speak without saying anything or even say more than I speak. It's pressing the darned button (or the place on the touchscreen that signals to the phone that it is now time to initiate the phone call sequence).

One day I will press that button with impunity. I can do it when I call my mother (who really is the only person I call with regularity). I can do it if I have to call a man-friend. If I were dating someone I could do it no problem. But if I have to call a doctor, dentist, home teachee, potential date, or to make an appointment of any kind, well, then I cannot press the button.

So I guess if you were looking for my weakness, you now have it. If you ever want to slow me down and potentially completely derail and disable me, require me to make a phone call. There's almost nothing I can do about it.

Not Even a Name

So you remember that one time when I said I would post some of my writing to my blog? Yeah, I never did. But I will now. The following is a short-short story I just had to submit for my Creative Writing class. I won't say anything else about it so as to not prejudice your reading. Except that since it's a short-short, it is about 1/6 the average length of my Dating Week posts.

Not Even a Name
By Matthew "The Very" Fife

Cold, so cold. Not freezing, just uncomfortable. Enough to keep you on edge. The perfect temperature for interrogation.

I sat on the cold metal chair, knowing that on the other side of the glass they were watching. They had cuffed my hands and ankles unnecessarily tight. The cuffs rubbed at my bare skin. I wanted to adjust them, try to make them more comfortable, but I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.

The door into the interrogation room opened and Detectives Ames and Stevenson entered the room. They circled like predators, waiting to go in for the kill. But I ignored them. I didn’t even flinch when Ames slammed her folder on the table.

Stevenson bent and whispered in my ear, “You know what we want, but we’ll start off slow.” He nodded at Ames, giving her the go-ahead.

“Prisoner 3226, please state your name,” she commanded.

Silence. Only one thought crossed my mind. Give them nothing. Not even a name. I knew they already had all the information, but it didn’t matter. Not even a name. They had taken everything, but I could hold onto this.

Ames repeated the command several more times. She looked to Stevenson for direction. Stevenson’s agitated pacing stopped. Something passed between the two detectives, but I couldn’t see. Stevenson stood behind me. Ames changed her approach.

“Who were you working with?” Silence. “Did you work alone?” Silence. “What is the name of your accomplice?” Silence.

The questions came faster. Stevenson started pacing again. They battered me, hammering me with question after question. But I stayed strong. With each question their voices raised. They struggled to control their anger and frustration. But I remained silent.

Suddenly I was grabbed roughly from behind and slammed into the table. Ames ran to restrain Stevenson, but alone she couldn’t do anything. I could taste blood in my mouth. Everything inside of me screamed at me to speak, to end the pain. My resolve wavered.

The beating stopped. I turned my head slowly to see Stevenson pressed against the wall by the warden and two guards. Unable to control it, I smiled. Stevenson’s face contorted into a cruel mask of rage. The detective broke free from his captors and struck me with all his frustration.

Cold, so cold. Not freezing, just uncomfortable. But I had given them nothing. Not even a name.

            

Final Thoughts on Dating Week

Well, the day has finally come. Dating Week is drawing to a close. There were other suggestions, but not enough of them to turn Dating Week into a fortnight. However, those that did not make it into the main rotation for Dating Week have not been forgotten. Chances are good that over the next few weeks you might see a dating related post every now and then. I’m always open to post suggestions.

It’s been a good week. We’ve received an average of 44 hits per entry, which is about double the average readership, so a victory right there. Friday's entry managed to reach 96 people so far, so that skews the stats, but also counts as a victory. No one has said mean things to me because of what I have said in the posts, so another victory right there.

That’s sort of what counts. In dating, and in life, sometimes you just have to take your victories where you can get them.  Maybe that one girl didn’t say yes to the date, but someone else did, and you had fun. Take your victory. Maybe you went on a couple dates and it just didn’t work out, but you had fun and you learned a little bit more about what you want in a relationship. Take your victory. Maybe for one fleeting moment you understood the thought process of that really cute lady. Please, take your victory. A fly honey asked you to come and hang out with some of her friends, and they are all attractive. Come on over, Sir, and take your victory. Maybe he smiled at you. Claim that victory. Maybe you took something away from Dating Week that you can use. We both get victories.

Ladies, gentlemen, whatever gender you associate with, you can all have victories. No genderism here. Sometimes in my blog posts I have treated both men and women equally, or I have assumed that you would just accept my choice of pronoun and still see the application, regardless of whether you are dude or dudette. This is mainly because when that would happen, I would be espousing genderless principles. I recognize that men and women are different.

Like, really different. Let’s talk about that.

Well, here’s the problem. I don’t really know anything about the differences between men and women. I mean, other than the succinct statement from Kindergarten Cop starring Arnold Schwarzenegger (which I am glad Word knows how to auto-correct. Saved me a trip to Google). I mean, there is some other physiological stuff that I know. Like a woman’s pelvis will separate to permit the escape of a child whereas a man’s pelvic bone is pretty much fused. Also, women are really pretty. Guys, not so pretty.

I think we can all agree that there are differences between men and women. Physiological, psychological, pulchritudinal, etc. I think sometimes it’s very easy for us to say, “She is a woman. He is a man.” I don’t think there’s really anything wrong with that. If we say, “He’s a man so he likes cars. She’s a woman so she likes make-up,” we are getting onto some iffy grounds.

I am a man (hopefully this does not come as a surprise). I also like make-up, face masks, dance, spa nights, hanging with the girls, matchmaking, and other things that are girly when you are in elementary school (If you still think a mud mask on your face is girly, think of this. It’s mud. That you are supposed to put on your face. And it makes your skin feel amazing. Please, tell me what’s girly about that). I wear a lot of purple. I love shoes. I am in a program of study that is heavily female (attested to by the mini-celebration that took place when more than one guy was enrolled in one of my classes). I bake. A ton. To the point where girls are afraid to bake for me because they’re afraid that I will judge their creations to be beneath me (In case there are still people that think this, let me make this clear. My favorite brownies are the store-bought Cosmic Brownies. If you don’t understand why that is relevant, I’ll explain it sometime).

What I am saying is that for the most part, the differences that separate men and women are societal, not psychological or physiological. Do we react differently in the same situation? Probably. But then again, when a giant spider pops out of nowhere and comes running at you, the almost universal reaction is panic. Some people just channel that panic into senseless slaughter. Others call on someone else to destroy the innocent creature. I personally let them live in my shower, where arachnidic company is always welcome. Or I release them into nature. Really, I’m quite tender.

There are very real differences though that society has reinforced. Women tend to be better mothers. Single fathers can make it work, but I bet they have to live a long time outside of their comfort zone. I read an article one time about the necessity of men in society. According to the author, we have reached a point in technological and scientific advancement that men are virtually obsolete. In the history of mankind, men are responsible for the donation of a grand total of about three pounds of DNA to the human race. Throughout all time. Women on the other hand donate enough nutrients, oxygen, blood, etc. to create an eight pound child with every pregnancy. They then continue to give nutrients, antibodies, care, nurturing, and love for at least the next 18 years of life to bring the child to maturity (We’re talking averages here, not specific cases). In fact, studies have shown that it’s not the presence of both parents in a child’s life that will make the difference in achievement level in school and beyond, but economic situation (which might happen to be tied sometimes to single parenthood). Women sort of carry our society on their backs.

So what does this tell us? Well, that women are better nurturers, a fact that most LDS folks are already aware of from “The Family: A Proclamation to the World.” Is it any surprise that scientific studies have confirmed what life has shown anecdotally for years? What do men do? Well, a lot. They significantly increase the chances that the child will have the economic situation necessary for success. They sacrifice to make sure that their families are happy, healthy, and places of love and support. I know a lot of fathers that have willingly sacrificed their own dreams and aspirations to be the type of father that their family needed.

So really, despite all the differences that may exist, there is one quality that unites both genders in relationships. Selflessness. Entering into a healthy relationship should be the greatest test of that attribute that you have had to face. All of a sudden you cease to focus on yourself. Your thoughts go from, “Who do I want to take on a date tonight?” to “So, what do you want to do?” You stop thinking about your own happiness and start thinking about how you can make her/him happy. Wouldn’t it be great if getting into a relationship was the magic switch that turned you from a selfish single to a selfless adult?

But it doesn’t work. An object in motion tends to stay in motion unless acted upon by an outside force. You will not have healthy and successful relationship until you let yourself be acted upon by those outside forces (even if they have to be an inside-outside force, like you encouraging you to be better). You have a lot of opportunities to forget about yourself and do great things for other people. Whether it’s lending an ironing board or changing an old lady’s outdoor lights, the opportunities come up. Practice makes permanent. If we allow ourselves to learn to be selfless, we will be much better prepared for relationships when they come our way.

Think about it. How many of us go into school the first day and feel completely overwhelmed by all the stuff that needs to get done? How many of us actually prepared for school to start? There is a correlation between those two answers. On a side note, I would really like to know how one prepares for school to start.

So you’re not dating anyone right now? What are you doing to prepare yourself to be in that situation? Nothing? Well, then, even if you start dating someone, it’s not going to turn out fantastic (in most cases). I’ve been there (a long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away). Take advantage of the opportunities you have to craft the best you. Then the best someone else will be interested when they roll along.  Then you can have best children and live best lives.

Is it healthy to always focus on dating and marriage? Depends. If what that means to  you is focusing on improving yourself daily, developing the talents that you have and becoming a loving, caring individual so that you can take advantage of any opportunity that presents itself in your life, then yes, it’s very healthy. If what it means to you is focusing on all the boys you’re not going on dates with, or all the girls that have turned you down, or all the things you’re not doing on the weekend, then no, it’s not healthy. It’s downright poisonous to your soul.

Focus on improvement. Focus on happiness. Focus on others. Then, even if your dating life isn’t what you want it to be, your real life will be awesome. You can complain if you want. I don’t know what good that will do, aside from making you negative and bitter, which in turn yields a you that is unattractive to all genders. Stay positive. If the time comes for mourning, mourn, but then move on. If your heart gets broken, let it break, but then fix it up and keep on sailing. If you feel frustrated, check your perspective. If you feel angry, check your attitude.

Above all, stay positive. Positive that things will work how they’re supposed to. Positive that you are becoming the best that you can. Positive that you are working on it. Positive that you are pursuing your life goals. Positive that you have the support of good friends. Positive. Be Positive.

It’s been a pleasure writing for Dating Week. It might happen again in the future if I need the readership boost. Keep living your dreams. Hopefully you learned from something I wrote. I have. I might even apply it. I hope you can, too.

Now on to battle.

Expectation and Reality

There are some things you should know about me. I am a 23 year old guy from Virginia, going to school here at BYU in Provo, UT. I have not been in a serious relationship for over two years. I have not been on a third date in a year and a half. I've had a second date maybe once in the intervening time. I gather rejections by the gross (which might be a gross exaggeration), even for first dates. My last date was sort of last night, you could say, and before that it was May. I do try, though, so that’s worth something.

Knowing that, it's no surprise to me that some people have been impressed and surprised with the content of some of my posts this week. These posts have exceeded expectations. Better than anticipated.

Expectations are pretty key in relationships. They inform just about everything that happens. When a guy asks you out on a date, your dating experience will largely be based on your expectations. When a girl says yes, it’s the same sort of thing.

Walk with me for a moment. We’re going to use a fictional girl named Sally as an example.

During the week Sally gets asked out by two different boys, one for Friday and one for Saturday. Ted asked her out for Friday. He’s dashing, outgoing, seems like a really fun person. Pete asked her out for Saturday. He’s quiet and a little bookish, and she really only said yes because she knows that a first date isn’t that big of a deal, and she’s open to the possibility of it being all right. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings or anything.

For both dates they go bowling (Because this is a hypothetical situation, and because Sally just loves bowling, I can do this without her complaining about unoriginality). Ted is exactly how he’s always been. He’s outgoing, dashing, fun to be around. They play a couple of games, go out for ice cream, chat, joke around, the usual. He takes her home. She had a fun time.

Pete, on the other hand, it not at all how he has been. He jokes around, is caring, considerate, gentlemanly, even a bit dashing. She finds herself laughing and having a grand old time. They go out for ice cream afterwards and continue chatting. Turns out they have a lot in common. They chat, joke around, sort of unusual compared to her previous experience with Pete. He takes her home. They had a fun time.

Now, when asked by her roommates with which of the two she wants to go on another date, who do you think she will pick? Exact same date. Exact same level of fun. Joking, chatting, commonality all equal. Shoot, they’re even both good looking. In my opinion, she’d probably be more likely to go out again with Pete. He exceeded expectations. Ted was fun, but she knew it would be fun. He was dashing, but he’s always dashing.  He was outgoing, but he’s always outgoing. On the other hand, she was expecting the date with Pete to be sort of a pity date (a practice that I do not endorse), but actually had a really great time. With Ted, the date was ordinary. With Pete, the exact same date was exceptional

If you are dating to get to know people, you want to see sides of them that you haven’t seen. It reminds me of the Coke Zero commercials, where it shows snapshots from the guy’s life. People offer him things or tell him stuff, and he always follows it up with an “And?” which then yields an even better outcome.

I’m not in any way telling you to present a false self on a first date just to switch up the status quo and give the girl [or guy, because guys also re-ask out multi-dimensional girls (All girls start out in the 4-D category, with the fourth dimension being smell and mistiness, according to Disney Theme Parks)] the impression that you’re more than you are. You should always be you, but you should be a diverse, multi-faceted individual. Have you ever wondered why you have to take GE classes? It’s because the workplace wants you to also be a diverse, multi-faceted individual, just like the ladies. Single-mindedness and Single-purposedness can oftentimes lead to Single-ness.

Say you’re on a date. You are majoring in Pre-Med at BYU. You love science and medicine. You live and breathe infectious diseases (hopefully metaphorically, or this date will not end well). Your whole life has revolved around you becoming a doctor. She’s super into literature. The last time you read something not related to medicine was when you Spark Noted the Great Gatsby during your Sophomore year of High School. Oh, that’s her favorite! Quick, say something intelligent about it. You remember something about the color yellow. It was important for some reason. That’s all you got. Pauses grow longer. In a last ditch effort, she asks you about medicine. Relieved, you explode knowledge all over her. For the last thirty minutes of the date the only thing she says is, “Oh, that’s interesting” (which might be code for, ‘I don’t want to talk about this anymore). When you drop her off on her doorstep she says, “Thanks for tonight,” and then goes inside. Not even a side-hug (another practice that I do not endorse. The giving of side-hugs. Not the not giving of side-hugs. If you're going to hug, do it right). When you call her for a second date, she’s going to be busy unless she is the sweetest girl in history, then she’ll subject herself to that one more time, just to make sure that it wasn’t nervousness on your part. It wasn’t. You’ve never read a book.

Humans want to date interesting humans. They also don’t want to be able to sum up all that interesting at first glance. They want you to exceed expectations. Be better than they anticipated.

Expectations can be your best friend (especially if given a chance to show that you are better than anticipated). They can also be your worst enemy (if, heaven forbid, you are worse than anticipated). Your own expectations will work against you more than someone else’s expectations, though.

You start a semester thinking, “This is my semester, I’m going to go on dates all the time.” You ask a girl out, or if you are a girl you accept a date, and you think, “This is awesome. S/He is totally into me. She said yes to a non-intimidating first date experience!” You think, “Man, I’m interesting, all the ladies will want to date me.” You say to yourself, “I write a blog that has a full week devoted to my interesting and unexpected ideas about dating and relationships. This will clearly translate into a changed outlook on dating and will make girls think that I’m deep, witty, caring, and maybe a little bit sexy.” (To clarify, this last one is about a friend)

And then nothing happens. And then you’re frustrated, because it was such a good plan/idea/strategy. Dating is by very nature frustrating, mainly because it almost never meets expectations (for me, at least. Maybe you’re awesome).  People meet expectations, but the grand narrative never plays out like it did in our heads. You think she’s into you, but the date leaves you feeling otherwise. You expect to go on a lot of dates, but then your time gets sucked up into other things and the times you’re available, they aren’t. You think you finally have it figured out, but you don’t. You think the relationship is going awesome, and then you get blindsided by the break-up.

I’m not advocating a pessimistic attitude in order to avoid disappointment. If we have super low expectations, that will color our experience as well. Negativity begets negativity, which begets bad experience. But reality probably won’t live up to our expectations. That’s not a bad thing. Maybe reality isn’t worse, it’s just different. Maybe the different is actually better. Most of the great joys of my life have come from the unexpected reality as opposed to reality meeting my expectations. I don’t think we can really change a lot of what we expect, and we will be disappointed from time to time. But I do think it helps to be aware of it so that in those disappointed moments, maybe we can see that different reality instead of a worse one.

In the meantime, read a book. Learn something new. Become familiar with topics as diverse as coal-mining procedures and the influence of semi-mistranslation and semi-misunderstanding of Stanislavski’s work on American acting technique.

Maybe I don’t go on a lot of dates. Maybe I’m not as interesting as I assume I am (hard to believe, but possible). Maybe I don’t have mountains of experience. But all those dates I don’t go on, all that interesting that I am not, all that experience I don’t have, it just creates a different reality. It doesn’t change the fact that to someone, somewhere, at some time, I will be better than anticipated. I exceed expectations.

For the record I actually can be deep, witty, caring, and a little bit sexy. I mean, my friend can be.