It’s especially interesting when you’re a girl (who is supposed to be the embodiment of innocence and chastity), you’re the first child, and your dad decides to give you a lecture on your future college conduct at the dinner table thanks to a letter he received from Claremont McKenna College (where freedom apparently awaits).

It’s even MORE interesting when this lecture happens to be about your supposed conduct around the opposite sex and your parents, who had an ARRANGED marriage and whose only romantic experience pre-marriage consisted of watching Bollywood movies, are giving you advice. The only advice I have received from my mother to attract men (besides “talk less”) is to wear higher shirts and study harder, because apparently I look most beautiful with no makeup and when my nose is in a book.
I know the basic rules: No boys. No drugs (including alcohol). No sex. And I plan to follow them (as of now). But just for fun I decided to play rebellious teenager and question my dad. Here’s the dialogue:
Me: Dad. I’m 18. I’m single. Therefore I am available.
Dad: No. You are not at all available.
Me: When will I be available?
Dad: When you get your degree. Sanjana, for god’s sake you are 18 stop acting like you are 38.

So the moral I take away is: I’m only allowed to have fun when I’m 38 and already married.
Later in the conversation:
Me: So dad…you say you want me to tell you everything. Let’s say I go to a party and hook up with some guy…
Dad: Stop right there. First of all what is this hookup you speak of?
Me: It’s when you like kiss a guy but don’t plan to date him or see him again.
Dad: NO HOOKUPS. And as for parties…
Mom: Let her go to some parties once in a while. I’m sure there will be nice music concerts at Pitzer.
Dad: You know, if you want this ridiculous hookup thing we can just get you married off quickly.

It was a very productive, open-minded, honest discussion.

My dad is one of those fathers who, when I start talking about boys, starts talking about the benefits of arranged marriage. He strongly believes that if he had not met my mother through his parents, they would still have found each other (because obviously a guy living and working in Portland, Oregon is going to run into a beauty queen from Mumbai on his way to work) and get married (fat chance…if they tried a live-in relationship, it probably wouldn’t have lasted a week. Neat-freak Dad vs. Carefree Mom = fireworks in the kitchen of the non-romantic, blame the kids variety). My dad even tried to arrange my prom date. I distinctly remember telling my dad I asked a guy friend to prom: he proceeded to get very upset and offended, and told me that he had a lot of friends at work who had sons who he could ask for me. Oh, Daddy darling… how much you have to learn.

Despite the jokes and cultural exaggerations, my dad was right.  My dad gave me this advice because he knows me better than anyone else. In coming to college, I have been thrust into a place where I am treated like an adult and I have complete freedom. Still, college has many temptations. I have to make choices that are right for me – and not just do certain things that many of my peers are doing for the sake of fitting in or being “cool.” I have to be strong and keep my values through this journey. I have to maintain my integrity and make good choices so that after four years  I can look back and be proud of the person I was in college. Who knows? Maybe parents do have all the answers. Maybe they do know what they are talking about. Maybe we should all listen to them a little more often.

My dad is one of the few people in this world who knows who I am and what I stand for. I respect him and thank him for being firm and embarrassingly blunt.

And you thought your pre-college conduct lecture was bad. But I must say, although I resisted at the time, so far it’s worked out well: No boys. No drugs. No sex. And I’m still having fun. Dad would be proud.

My ex-girlfriend is starting to get borderline crazy on me. I broke up with her about a year ago when she cheated on me with a guy during her semester abroad. She was really upset at the time, but she cooled down eventually. But then I got a new girlfriend and ever since then she has been bugging out on me, calling me constantly and verbally soliciting herself to me. It is hard because, as much as I want to tell her to go away and get out my life, I somewhat like the attention. What should I tell my ex, and should I tell the girl I am dating now?

Dream Boat,

The great thing about threats is they don’t have to come true. Example: If you call me one more time I am going to lynch you with your own fallopian tubes. Problem solved. Then deny. No, why would I ever say that? She’s a fucking lunatic, how tough are those tubes anyway? Probably not strong enough to strangle 130 pounds of psycho. See? Crazy times Crazy equals funny. You’ll be drama free and popular in one disturbing statement. Can we be friends?

If the threat doesn’t work (i.e. you are a the least threatening person on the planet, see: Carl Peaslee), there are a few things you can do to get her to stop calling you. Maybe you can just tell her – for realsies. Have you ever asked her to stop calling? Or mentioned it to her with concern? I doubt it, probably because you’re nice and you don’t want to hurt her feelings. Which is totally understandable, but you can’t let your investment in her emotions control your life. You obviously had a good connection with her, and whether you can keep it as friends depends on both of your feelings. Yet, if it has gotten to the point where you’re calling her crazy, something should change. You don’t have to be a dick about it, but letting her know your phone is not an Iraqi war zone will help her make a transition away from you. Oh, is it because it’s blowing up? Probs.

It makes sense for you to like your ex’s attention. She’s giving you more power than the guy with a scissors in a real life Rock-Paper-Scissors dual. You can respond to her, or not, and she’ll be there, like moms. Or prescription pills. Sure the power feels good, but it’s really going to hurt when the one you’re dating finds out your ex is desperately trying give you the darkroom especial in the photo-lab at Pomona. It’s a breach of trust, even if you aren’t doing anything to pursue it.

So, should you tell your girl? No. Not yet at least. If you tell her now there is gonna be like, hella drama. Handle it on your own. Tell your ex you can only be friends if she acts like one. Friends don’t give each other hand jobs, and friends don’t send each other sexual text messages. Well, my friends do, but… I mean, have you met Lewis Corson?

You broke up with your ex because she played you, figure it out, don’t be a hypocrite.

A Mitch

Dear A Mitch

I am the kind of girl that likes casual sex. I don’t even have to tell you what that means for me, but I will. Here are some of the things I have been called lately: Slut, whore, loose, easy… the list goes on. I am completely aware that this is an age-old problem for women who are sexually liberal, but there has got to be a way to break the mold. What do you think?

Punk Slut,

If your name is Carly Candypants, I have a bone to pick. Did you really think you could give my roommate a case of the itch-and-sniffs? I know he’s good in the sack, but honestly, your sexual liberalism is an infectious love, condemning even the healthiest men to a life of calling in to uplifting herpes treatment commercials. “Hi, I just saw your commercial, do I just order, err, how does this work? Can you send it in a secret box?” No they can’t send it in a secret box. And thanks to you, my dorm room now has two beds. So much for my nighttime tickles.

If you’re not that herp smuggler, Carly, I’m sorry for the verbal lashing. And I am sorry you have to live in a world where double standards reign so strongly over a woman’s sexual promiscuity. Nonetheless, you live a lifestyle many frown upon. So how do you break the mold?

Like most social movements, it starts with you disregarding the derogatory perception unleashed by jealous and closed-minded individuals. Or plainly: Don’t care. But there is more to it than turning your back on insults. People are prejudiced because of ignorace. So educate them. Though maybe not with an enraged Facebook status: CMC guys make me vom, so over you.

Have a conversation with the guy who thinks he knows “your kind,” the ho bag who even gave Billy a BJ. Get on a personal level with him. Confrontation changes people, and when you successfully convey the left field idea that you enjoy your right to have informal sex as much as any man, maybe he’ll begin to understand you’re lifestyle is analogous to some of his buddies on campus. Or his friends at home. Or his grandpa’s country club. Really anywhere if he pays attention.

Then lay some more truth on him. Let him know that when he talks shit, you feel shitty. Splash some sincerity in a batch of genuine emotion, and you’ll find yourself doling out some good old fashioned guilt. Because no matter how much you think he (or anyone) actually wants to hurt your feelings, he doesn’t. Your title is just a convenient way to label you, and once you’ve voiced yourself to those who want to define you in one belittling term, your self-esteem will be higher than Friday night at the Beckett Bakery.

In the end, if you’re happy, and you aren’t doing anything to hurt anyone else, then get your freak on. Do what you do shawdy, and I’ll be chillin’ in the crib if you need some real good advice.

—————————————————–

Got problems?  A Mitch has answers.  Tell him all about your problems here: http://cmcforum.com/dear-amitch

I can’t think of a real good reason to get bikini waxes. Yet, every four weeks I pay $60 to sit through 25 minutes of often-excruciating pain and awkward conversations with my waxer. Even if it is appreciated by my sexual partners, the pain and expense is always one-sided because there is no real expectation for guys to groom themselves. I could shave, but the results are far from ideal (and I really don’t feel comfortable using sharp dangerous objects in those hard to reach places!).  So I go get waxed. I feel like it is a requirement and that if I didn’t, I would be undesirable. Is all of this trouble really worth it, and do guys really care as much as we think they do? And if so, why is it so unsexy for a woman to look like a mature woman and not a prepubescent girl??

Mole Rat,

Ahh pubic hair, my favorite. Honestly, I have no idea why guys don’t like it. I mean, Jesus, the audacity people have these days to turn down an A+ whisker biscuit. Who created these norms anyway, the Taliban? That’s worth an invasion in itself. Just think of all the cancer patients that dream about having a big ole haystack between their legs. It’s sad really, a reality nonetheless.

My lady, your question fits nicely into the vast category that is gender inequality, the majority of which are based on unjustified, misogynistic, and oppressive social norms– the motivation behind feminist force. And for that, on the behalf of men, I am sorry. Sorry that it has become an expectation rather than a choice based solely on your personal preferences. However I wonder if it is actually a huge hindrance for all women? I don’t have a vagina, but I imagine that for many women, pubie shaving is just part of a weekly process that simply requires a little more effort and finesse than the legs.

In contrast to the opinions of my alter ego in paragraph one, I think many men prefer little to no hair for a few reasons. One is that oral sex on an unkempt woman is about as appealing as bobbing for apples in a Marks Hall toilet. If she’s not a Fuji, forget it. And this isn’t a double standard, because men have outies, which means that unless the guy has a daffodil in the Amazon, your contact with his curls is minimal. Although I will note, not all men share an interest in naked vag. In fact, many are weirded out by naked kitties, the association to a child too close for comfort.

Another reason is aesthetic appeal. Fair or not, the norm of naked is trim and cute, for both sexes. For the most part, sexual media is cleanly cut, and as products of our culture, we seek to imitate what we are told is attractive.

As for the men you think lack the pressure to tidy their thicket, I say you might be hooking up with the wrong dudes. I’m not really the expert on the norms of male grooming, but if the rogue locks on my bathroom floor denote anything, it is that men are doing some sort of deforestation. I doubt many men practice testicular waxing, but who can blame them, that would be like trying to pull gorilla glue off silly putty. Scrotums would age thirty years in one wax.

Who knows, you might try sprouting a few, or you may find your Brillo pillow less comfortable than a clean canvas. In the end, like most things in life, it is only worth it if it makes you happy. If a man finds he is ready to judge you on your Velcro love triangle, he probably isn’t the right guy for you. So do what feels good, and be sexy.

A Mitch

Dear A Mitch,

Over the past few months I have successfully abandoned all of my morals and completely lost any trace of dignity I once had.  I never imagined I would be the type of person to cheat, much less the type of person to ruin someone else’s relationship, and yet, that is exactly the position in which I now find myself.  I met this older guy, fully aware of his marriage from the very beginning, and immediately felt the attraction.  It didn’t take long for things to spiral completely out of control.  Before I knew it, we were sneaking around at all hours of the night and slipping out of sight in public places when a familiar face was spotted.  I cringe every time I think of the reality of this situation; I pretty much feel sick all the time now, and yet I cannot get this man out of my head.  I have a lot of anger toward him and myself, but I’m not totally sure I want to end our secret relationship.  What should I do?

Commandment Breaker,

Hell is not as cool as religion has made it out to be. Fire, demons, soul wrenching pain, yeah right. Try stale Saltines and “Sarah Palin’s Alaska” blaring on a million televisions in a never-ending strip mall. You’ll go crazier than I do reading the serious comments on satirical YouTube videos. Sexyphatgurl16 says: WTF that is so photoshoped!

Soo, it sounds like you are “in a love affair without a love song, in a habit of having what you don’t want.” Maybe an affair with no love or music at all. Just the cold rhythm of half-clothed lust, hips humping until your passion evolves into self-loathing guilt. Whatever it is, he is a drug, and you are addicted. He is immediate gratification, a temptation with high highs, and low lows. He will drag you down emotionally until you realize the chances of this ending well are about as small as the sober population at Nascar events.

You are either going to be the other woman, the woman he leaves his wife for, or maybe the woman his wife goes to jail for murdering. Who knows? But if you have some little fantasy about him leaving her for you, remember relationships based on lies and betrayal are about as strong as the Durex condom I’ve had in my wallet since I was fifteen. It’s just waiting to tear down the middle.

Look, I know you hate yourself for what you are doing. It is easy to fall into a groove of I already did the deed, might as well do it again. I imagine that is how old people get boring. Frasier reruns again? But see, the difference between another booty call for you and another for your lover is ultimately your happiness. I don’t mean in a selfish way, just that a healthy mindset is generally a happy one, and your hotel hookups aren’t helping. Why perpetuate this vicious cycle of internal disappointment?

You want change? Nothing is more powerful than a woman who knows what she wants. You gotta gather the strength to look him dead in the eyes and say you are done disrespecting yourself. Moreover, you are done disrespecting this woman who is currently steeping in the saliva of her husband’s mendacious debauchery. So invite him to coffee on a weekend afternoon. Be as blunt as you can about your feelings, although try to stay away from voicing your opinions about his morality. Mold the discussion around your needs. Calling him a bad person might be what you really want to say, and perhaps it’s true, yet it will only spark a defensive response. Plus, if I’m not mistaken, you share the blame.

Tell him how you feel, how angry you are with yourself when you sit pantie-less and empty after his lunch break. Dominate the discussion. Because in the end, this needs to be over, not adjusted. There is nothing he can say to change the situation and when you successfully relay this, hopefully he will grasp your message, no matter how delusional he is about his own reality.

Love,

A Mitch

—————————–

Got problems?  A Mitch has answers.  Tell him all about your problems here: http://cmcforum.com/dear-amitch

Urban Dictionary defines “hooking up” as everything from making out to intercourse, which in a sexual context, is to say anything.  The word is an empty vessel through which we can share our exploits without sharing them, into which we can pour our shame without confessing.  It allows us to simulate genuine interaction without actually having to go through the ordeal of being completely honest.

But shouldn’t we be honest, if not with each other, the at least with ourselves?  If you can’t deal with saying “I had sex with some rando last night” or “none of your goddamn business,” maybe you shouldn’t be hooking up.  Just a thought.

A more interesting question, though, is to ask what the phrase says about our sex lives generally.  Is it not indicative of a type of interaction that places more emphasis on simulation than reality?  Half the conversations on a typical Saturday night really don’t deserve the name.  Talking is less an actual interplay of ideas than an exchange of signs, decodable only in a carefully calibrated argot—what some call the game.  The words spoken and the sentences they create matter less than what they represent.  “Want to watch a YouTube video in my room?” is not a genuine request but actually a nifty and socially non-threatening way to ask the other person if they want to hook up.[1]

This raises a question: why is so much of how we pursue each other pretense and deceit?  There’s a reason it’s called the game, but why is that so especially true at the 5Cs?   Why do we grind up on each other in dark rooms, searching for a hint of a connection somewhere, somehow, as we drown in a sea of signifiers? I don’t want to moralize—and really I shouldn’t.  I just think maybe we need to take a collective look in the mirror.

I mean, why do so many of us want a normal dating scene?  And yet why is the only ostensible indication of this in articles written behind the safe ramparts of online discourse?  Why is it creepy to ask someone to hang out in your room when you’re both sober and not when you drunkenly stumble into each other at TNC?

I don’t have answers to these questions, but I think I know the root of the problem: being a genuine person is hard.  It’s far easier to hope to drunkenly stumble into someone that you like on a Saturday night than ask them on a date.  You don’t actually have to show initiative, just trust to Providence and the will of Andrew Cosentino.  Of course, any missteps you make can easily be blamed on being drunk.  And any emotion you might feel can be safely siphoned into the linguistic black hole “to hook up.”  In short, our sociolingual edifice is more than accommodating.  But there’s value to that harder step.  It’s why Socrates said “The unexamined life is not worth living” and—I think—why there was such a positive response to Charles’ open letter.  Perhaps all of us—myself included—need to better appreciate how hard it is to forge meaning out of life, and how worthy that struggle truly is.

A man’s figurative closet is often packed with skeletons the size of Wayne Gretzky’s manhood– mine certainly is. Everyone makes mistakes, but some of us live with the daily consequences of actions that happened years ago. While bundling this up is usually fine, I have been dating a woman for 2 years now and I think when we graduate this May, I want to live with her and start settling down. How do I tell my main squeeze that I have to pay child-support? I am worried that she will wig out, break up with me, and tell everyone about the result of sowing my seed in high school.

Damn,

You’re worried she’ll wig out on you? I’m worried she is going to drop thesis and begin planning your assassination. Holy conundrum, dear A Mitch, how do I cure AIDS? Hmm, okay… Focus. We can do this.

Can we talk priorities? Numero uno, your child. The one not involved in your life. The one you can hide for two years from a woman you’re close enough to want to live with. Your kid is what, between four and six years old? Do you even talk to your “seed?” I understand you are in college, probably too far away to visit on a regular basis, but if you are maybe trying to, you know, give a shit about this human being you have brought into the world, revealing their existence should be a joy. I am sorry to be so harsh and un-empathetic, I know you aren’t proud… Alright, lashing complete. Now get your hardhat. I have some jorts and a ratchet, let’s be constructive.

First off, you need to remember that all this is in the past. It’s easy to get caught up in regret, but the only thing accomplished in remorse is feeling horrible. There’s nothing you can do about it, decisions have been made and that beezie Hermione is the only one with a time-turner. That’s not to say it isn’t imperative to remember the lessons we’ve learned from mistakes, just that dwelling on those errors only encourages unproductive self-loathing. Look, shit has happened, and when it hits the fan, all you can do is clean it up. Wear white, you’ll be bleaching, but it sure is going to feel good to wash the grime off.

So now you have “the talk.” Just to preface, probably unnecessarily, this is not an inner-tube water polo discussion. You don’t want her drowning you. And don’t play it up, the Montclair Olive Garden employees will be heated if they have to clean up her never-ending pasta mess. Pick an un-stressful weekend for her (preferably before finals), kick your goonie ass roommates out, maybe have a glass of wine to loosen your groove and relax her – she may be sensing something out of the ordinary. Then, with all seriousness, tell her your story. The whole watermelon, because every little seed you leave out will bite your ass down the line. These are creeping, biting seeds, understand? They hurt both parties. So get it out, tell her why. Be more truthful and sincere than you’ve ever been, and whether you are hit with thunder or rain, stand exposed to the elements of her emotion, and apologize.

However this scene goes down in your mind, know it will happen differently than you imagine. Try to stay consistent in your fight to keep your girl, always supportive, never defensive. Don’t make it an argument, rather a process of assuaging her grief. And lastly, call your kid. Tell him or her you love them before it is too late to be taken seriously.

Sincerely, A Mitch

Dear A Mitch,

I have a giant crush on this girl I met the other week. I thought she was feeling the same way about me but my efforts to get to know her better have been shut down. I mostly text her, only to receive meager responses many hours later. Someone told me she recently broke up with her boyfriend and I am not sure what sort of dynamic she is dealing with. My friends are telling me to tread lightly. I agree, but all I want is a moment of her company. How do I get that?

Yay, crushies!

There is nothing better than a crush, except for maybe a returned crush. Crush Trade! Obama’s next policy – approved by anxiety and butterflies everywhere. Get out your charm, friend, let’s get it merry popin’.

Okay, you don’t actually have to be charming to get the girl to like you, I mean, have you met Chris Blees? He has a girlfriend. For cereals! So we know different strategies work for different individuals, but for the sake of success you should stay away from his tactics. Unless you interpret “crush” as denoting a strong dislike for someone. Shoot, digression, this paragraph is not helpful.

Advice, take two.

What you really need to do is let her know how you feel. However, you don’t want to overwhelm her. While you are feeling chipper, eager to progress with the rituals of relationships, she may be struggling to put on her happy face. The joy Fiona Apple’s Across the Universe gives you might drown her in weeping nostalgia. You have to be realistic about her wanting, needing, to be single for a while, no matter how well you click or how perfect you think you are for each other. When it comes down to it, your crush is on her clock, which can be tremendously difficult for some to handle. But if you think she is worth it, well, all you can do is let her know why.

It’s not going to happen in a text message. Sporadic texts often seem like poor attempts to hook up. The what are you doing tonight? text at 10pm Saturday – only because now you are intoxicated enough to conjure the courage. New approach (for all of CMC): Call her during the day! Crazy, I know. If you get her voicemail, leave a message. After hearing your voice, she might be reminded of the smiles you gave her. Say, “Hey lady! I was wondering if you want to get dinner with me Friday or Saturday night.” Don’t be vague, have a place in mind, but be lenient on time. Make it difficult for her to say no. Like applying to college, the hardest part is getting in. Once you sit down to eat, it’s on you. Do yo thang, gangsta. Tell a shorty why you be gaming her. If it doesn’t work out, oh well, let it slide. Life is too short to be under-appreciated.

Sincerely, A Mitch

I have struggled for a long time with money and friends. I like to be generous and expect the give and take, but there are just some people that just don’t get mooching or the concept of splitting a case of beer. What should I do or how do I handle these situations? It makes me uneasy and upset, but at the same time it does seem trivial. I mean should I really lose respect for someone over a slice of pizza or end a friendship over five bucks?

No, you shouldn’t, because you should have already murdered them. For some, death is the only way they’ll ever get it. I’d like to introduce you to my mafia tactics, friend. I hope those beers were worth your fingers. But that is only if you have the stomach for murder. You may also consider that prison probably doesn’t serve beer or pizza. Is that irony? Could be. Okay, no killing.

What I think you are encountering is a classic case of the boy who cried, “I’ll pay you back.” Annoying, yes, however, easily remedied. Like Lady Guadalupe once said, get up – stand up, stand up for your rights! You need to take control of the situation. And that doesn’t mean you have to be a douchey bill collector about it. Actually, if you can, and if the tab is within reason, try to forget about what they already owe you. Asking for eight bucks on that 6:01 Keystone thirty-bomb is only going to exacerbate the tension. Put it next to the parking ticket you still haven’t paid. The Bauer lot is just not logical! Calm down, let’s focus on the future.

Next time you are going in on something together don’t beat around the bush. Say, “hey man, you owe me $10 for the Captain. I need it by Sunday.” Or even better: “I am going to pick up some booze. If you want to drink with me, I need money.” Regardless, this means nothing to some people. Whether they grew up penny pinching or are so over-privileged they have no concept of what ten dollars means to middle class folk with petite allowances, you’re not getting you money. And that sucks because now you have to say, “No you cannot have a beer, you can have one shot — because you are my friend. Sorry, I love you man, but you gotta put up because I’m taking a hit every time we drink. Or every time we eat. Or every time I buy laundry detergent.” If he gets mad when you confront him, tell him to fuck himself, you are not his sugar daddy. You’re mine.

Final point: Being hospitable and sharing is always the way to go, but not if it is perpetually one-sided. If someone doesn’t respect you enough to pay you the money they owe you, you shouldn’t be friends with them.

Sincerely,

A Mitch

Dear A Mitch,

My boyfriend will not go down on me to save his life. I try to make him happy and he never returns the favor. He is a really good guy all around except for his selfishness in the bedroom. I’m afraid to ask him to because I don’t want the awkward tension. Is this normal? Should I even care?

MY LADY!

Let’s talk about sex! Oral sex. Oh baby.

Oral sex is natural. Like trees. And Antarctica. It gets a bad rap because somewhere throughout history sexual organs were characterized as filthy, dirty, nonos. These are outdated social conventions for most, yet oral play can be a challenge difficult to meet head on.

Before we talk about why your boyfriend neglects practicing his cunninglinguisism, let’s talk about your biggest issue, which is not your boyfriend’s stinginess. I think the real problem is your fear to speak honestly with him about your feelings. Even if it is not a huge deal, addressing your concerns is important. Communication lubricates all relationships. Obviously it is bothering you enough to ask me. Maybe you should ask yourself why you trust me with this question more than the individual you are so close to?

As far as the sex… The righteous lover will say one should return the pleasure. Put your mouth onto me as I do onto you. In most situations this statement makes sense because he or she is lazy and would rather get down to business instead of intimately progressing.

When you talk to him, you’ll get a sense of where he stands on the subject. If he says, “I don’t know why, I just don’t,” let him know how much it turns you on when you think about the toe-curling titillating tingle of intense pleasure. It might not take too much persuading to stimulate his interest

It’s also possible he has never done the daring deed and is merely nervous to expose his own shortcomings. Lady parts for many are kind of like math for Pitzer students: a mysterious maze. So help him out. Tell him, “Hey babe, you’re like a light-year off right now, try this spot here.” Direct him to what some call, the “clitoris.” Then you can thank him for reminding you how to scream. Or bite your lip… it’s too hot to close the windows.

Yet sometimes there is nothing you can do; inequality is an unfortunate reality. Yes, it feels phenomenal, understood. How could you not, right? But if it doesn’t work for your partner, it doesn’t work for your relationship. For the same reason you don’t like broccoli, your boy may not like… you know, licking vagina. Some guys think it’s gross, plain and simple. Babies come out of there. Eww. Why is that somewhere I want to put my mouth? You can say whatever you want about what is fair, but you can’t make anyone do something they don’t want to do and expect to maintain a healthy relationship. And that sucks. Not literally. For you at least.

If anything, talk. Don’t cut his head off anticipating beneficial change (like blowjobs, not beheading). Us men, we’re not mind readers. If you really can’t handle discussing it, give him a subtle clue by taking him to The Female Orgasm Talk tonight at Scripps. Maybe he’ll catch a hint. If all else fails my buddy Mattie Rich has a tongue longer than your Thursday night seminar. He’s tired of being under appreciated.

Sincerely,

A Mitch

I am a freshman and I recently went on one of the WOA trips. I love all the people I met, and I think I made some true friends. I am writing because one of our leaders, to be unnamed of course, probably needs to be my future husband. Okay not actually, but I have a big crush on him. I didn’t really know how to approach him on the trip, though it probably wouldn’t have been inappropriate for me to do that anyway. He is obviously a bit older than I, something I don’t find too problematic. Others (my friends) however, think I should just keep him as a friend because he’s older and has been somewhat of a counselor to us. I am not quite sure what to do on this one, apparently you’re the one to ask?

Young Woman,

Although I do have experience with older men (e.g. Portland Mayor Sam Adams), I don’t think throwing yourself at your WOA leader for political power is the route you want to take. Stay off the news! You may not know this, but I’d estimate, say, 91.3% of men in the US don’t truly care how old you are. And at CMC, or any college, one usually doesn’t have to worry about whether you legally bought those cigarettes in the black and pink box of marketing genius. We’re talking an age range of 18-23 years old- more like 18 and 20 for you. This doesn’t mean that age is a non-issue in relationships, just this: At CMC, qualities that supposedly develop with age, like maturity, are not always positively correlated. Truthfully, CMC can probably go ahead and take that conjecture out of the scrutiny box. Have you met Tom (last name omitted in conjunction with copyright laws)? Kid blacks out more frequently than Dora mugs folks in the dinner line.

As far as figuring out if this guy has any interest in you, well, it sounds like you already have a plan for that. If I were to make a suggestion, it would to be to take charge of the circumstance. You could ask this stag to go somewhere with friends, or maybe meet him for a one-on-one coffee date at the Motley? It will show him that you are old enough to handle taking the lead- Maturity, bang! Plus, confident women are sexy. If you don’t agree I’ll introduce you to Allison Lockscrub.

One more thing (and I hate to stereotype), but I’m fairly certain females have some genetic power inside of them that makes it really easy for them to get positive attention from men, at will. Not sure where you mix up that potion. Maybe in the colon? Because I am also pretty sure women don’t poop. How are you so discreet!? So, you know, that is always an option.

Sincerely,

A Mitch

Dear A Mitch,

As I am sure you know, there are a lot of buff, good-looking guys on campus. For girls, this couldn’t be better. For me, this poses a problem for my nerdy, much less strong, tan, and athletic self. Seriously every party I went to last year ended up with me losing the girl I was dancing with to some plastered meathead. I heated up the oven and they ate the cake. What the fuck?

Sir,

OH, I KNOW! And I am sorry for your losses, but are you upset because more attractive men are swooping up all the sexy ladies at dance parties? That’s like getting frustrated with Jimmy because he picked you last in dodgeball. People go with the best available. Would you upgrade your phone service for free? Only if daddy says okay? Daddy would if the only obstacle in his way was turning 180 degrees to some other guy’s gyrating crotch. Daddy might think that is gay but I don’t think he understands the analogy. I hope you do.

Look, super attractive guys have it easier. So now what? You gotta get over it and come up with your own ways of bettering your chances. See, Jimmy might not pick you last if you were a good friend of his. Or even if he knew you were an awesome guy, that might put you a head above the cannon-armed, personality-deprived dickface. Point is, the best way for you to get play is to establish relationships with the ladies– assuming a hook up is your ultimate goal.

You need to get a girl interested in you before the weekend. Establish a playful connection with a lady you might like sharing kissies with. When I say playful, I mean taking it easy, friendliness. Rock a smile and tell her how you’re gonna drop it like it’s hot on Saturday night and she needs to be around to get broken off. She’ll say, “Oh is that so!?” Then you say, in your driest voice, “Yeah, and I apologize ahead of time for any embarrassment you may feel.”  BOOM– when you see her that weekend on the dance floor you’ll have a connection– something that cuts out the awkwardness of approaching a woman and dry humping to Lady Gaga.

And yet, you may still be traded in for a newer, more attractive model. Luckily, drunken, clothed sex is not the only way to find good girls. Maybe you should try the Friday-night-not-going-out-but-still-going-to-chill type of kick-it session. Maybe the after-class-tea-time game, where you can spit knowledge about your extracurricular activities while the athletes are all at practice. Or you could just start working out. In the sun. For maximum results, I suggest you do this.

Sincerely,

A Mitch

This might be a little more procrastination than you bargained for tonight (12 minutes!). Short film about a guy who takes a girl on a really bad date…but she actually likes the date, and things get weird. The Holocaust is involved. Kinda like that bit from Curb Your Enthusiasm where there’s the mistake about “the survivor.”

The video is from Wholphin, which is a DVD produced by uber pretentious literary snobbish types who like to give cool, weird things a soapbox to shout from, like a literary mag in DVD format. And hey, we like it too, but shhhhh!

Sunday morning brunch at Collins:

Girl #1: “We were dancing and then he just disappeared.”

Girl #2: “Maybe he had to go to the bathroom?”

Girl #1: “Yeah.  That must be it.  Because I totally thought we were about to make out.”

Sure, He’s Just Not That Into You is a bit of a downer, but I think we all need a healthy dose of reality   from time to time.  No better time than the day after Valentine’s Day.  Shout out to all of us who were disappointed!

There are plenty of other places you can turn to for great movie reviews, so I won’t attempt to write a full one here.  Instead, I’ve prepared a mini-review and then the real takeaways from the movie– a message that is loooooooong overdue.

Mini-review:

• Has been described as “Woody Allen-lite.”  You know…young beautiful people with cool jobs and great apartments who are all kind of quirky and still figuring life and relationships out….presented in a very honest way.
• Way too long. There were these little blips of text that would come onscreen every 30 minutes or so to introduce another scenario (eg, “What to do when she won’t sleep with you”) and every time another one would come on, I couldn’t believe I had to endure more of this b*&^s%#@.
• Great casting is the only redeeming factor. Who doesn’t love Kevin Connolly (“Eric Murphy” on Entourage) and Bradley Cooper (just your typical bro)?  There might be some attractive females as well (ScarJo anyone?).

Two takeaways:

• Your friend is whining about some guy she met at TNC who won’t return her texts.  What do you tell her?  Say it with me!– “He’s just not that into you!” As the movie seeks to portray, this is an enormous revelation for some people.   Earth-shattering.  It’s possible that you’re boring or lame or simply not as hot as you thought you were. Let it go.  Resist the urge to freak out.
• The movie also reminds us, “You are the rule, not the exception.” She didn’t lose her phone, get in a car accident, or fall asleep.  She saw your text.  And she ignored it.  Stop thinking up special circumstances to make yourself feel better.

Take these messages to heart, CMC.  Sunday morning brunch chatter will be infinitely improved.