They say love is only for the foolish

You don't know it yet, but one of my favorite Sunday activities (besides doing laundry, being a couch potato and compulsively checking PostSecret) is to paint my nails and read Cosmo--which confirms that I am, indeed, a girl.

So I was doing exactly that, not on Sunday but on Memorial Day (kind of the same, right?), and while I was listening to a song about how painful and terrible love is (something you can just guess by the very inventive title, "Love Hurts". I think it could be longer, like "Love Hurts Almost As Badly As When You Go Hiking And A Bear Eats Your Feet While You Are Sleeping", but what do I know about song titles), I suddenly realized that love is a trick invented by God-Knows-Who not only to make us feel miserable, but also to prevent us from thinking about anything else. And that's pretty clever, actually. Because when you think about it, whether you have it or not, love makes you crazy. At least the good kinds do.

Of course you can argue that love ensures species preservation. And to that I will say that first it's not necessarily a good thing (you know I'm right, don't lie), and secondly you do not need love to achieve that, even if people tend to think otherwise.

Don't get me wrong, it's not that I don't think that love is, for lack of a better adjective... great (mmm this is bad. I'll have to write my next post with a thesaurus by my side). And if I really wanted to be the devil's advocate, I'd say that love is only induced by chemical reactions and hormones (be nice, I did not major in biology). Believe it or not, deep down I'm more on the side of the sentimental/romantic/foolish meaning of the word.

But you cannot not agree that sometimes, a lot of times, love just plain sucks. I personally think it was invented and developed by the ice cream industry to make them billionaires. The ice cream industry, the wedding industry (or is it "business"? I don't know, but you know what insanity I'm referring to) and Valentine's Day industry/business--whose evil purpose is actually to make single people feel so bad that they drown their singleness in massive amounts of Ben&Jerry's. See? It's a conspiracy.

But most of all, love was created by Cosmo so that every girl on the planet gets so confused with love that she never finds it. Hey, maybe that's my problem!

Honestly, I only bought the last Cosmo because Leighton Meester was on the cover, and I have a girl crush on her. And also because the headline ordered me to "Be A Lucky Bitch!" and that's my ultimate life purpose. But then I started to read it and all my uncertainties about love vanished. Now I know for sure that love was made up from scratch by people more powerful than us mortals to make us keep buying crappy overpriced magazines. Here's $4.95 I can say goodbye to.

First, you learn so many mind-boggling things about anything closely or remotely related to love/seduction/awkward interaction between the sexes. For instance, before my reading, I certainly didn't know that "78% of guys think wearing a ponytail outside of the gym is cute". I'm writing this at a coffee shop and wearing a ponytail, and I can totally feel the male gaze on me! Maybe some guy is going to ask me if he can buy me a pastry? That's probably gonna happen because I'm the only one there wearing a ponytail. Where are you hiding, fellow Cosmo readers?

I also didn't know that "guys who work out and lift weights are more likely to have a higher libido". Too bad for the majority of guys who don't. By the way, that increased libido is in fact probably due to the same ego that prompt those guys to sweat while looking at themselves in giant mirrors. So I don't know if it's such good news--especially since it only says that it is "more likely" to happen. Which means that whoever did this study is more likely to not be a real scientist.

But still, just because of those two "facts", girls are unconsciously induced to wear ponytails all the time ("hey, guys think it's cute! *giggle*") and to either search for the guy with perfect guns or force their significant other to hit the gym . Even more so because--and I'm sure you didn't know that-- "sweat makes a man's skin taste better than a margarita". Seriously? Is that even possible?? How did they find that out, scientific research? Sign me up please!

I won't go through the entire magazine because it would take me forever, but I do want to share with you and the world this month's "Man Manual"--yes, you read right, like a dishwasher manual. In June, you will learn "How To Wow Him From Day One". Yes, PLEASE, tell me how to do that, I'm begging for help! Although if you've already met someone, I assume it won't work also for Day Two. Sorry, too late for you, you're new relationship is doomed.

So, girls, to wow a guy instantly, you must:
1. Ask questions
Oh, really? So that's what you do on a date! Or you could just sit in front of him and say absolutely nothing the whole time. That wouldn't be weird at all.
2. Tell a secret
Bad idea, if you want my opinion. But I guess it all depends on which secret you decide to share. "Guess what, I used to be a girl, just like you!" is probably more damaging that "Don't tell anyone, but my favorite writers of all times are Dan Brown, Danielle Steel and Nicholas Sparks." Although... I'm not quite sure, maybe it's the other way around.
3. Own the awkwardness
What? The very definition of awkwardness implies that you cannot, ever, own it. You can trust me on that one, I don't belong to the Facebook group "Awkward Moments Define My Life" without a reason.
4. Bring up day 2 (is it so important that I should type it "Day 2"? Let's assume not)
Maybe I'm not daring enough, but my advice would be to let him do that. Because if you do, there's a good chance he will run away and let you pay the check. Especially if you didn't ask questions, didn't tell him your darkest secret, and didn't manage to own the awkardness when you spilt your bolognese all over yourself (in which case you deserved it, because it is common knowledge that you do not eat bolognese on a first date--that's what you get when you transgress the rules).

This "article" (note the importance of the quotation marks) only proves that the path to love is more painful than a Two and a Half Men marathon and more exhausting than an actual marathon.

So I will borrow Bukowski's words of wisdom by arguing that "there are worse things than being alone". Really, there are. For instance, you could be dating someone with a very hairy back. Ew (double ew if you're a guy)!

And don't forget that love does not make the world go round. Money and power do--and Oreo ice cream, but that's another story. But you know what? I'd still take foolish anytime. With a scoop of ice cream, if that sounds kinky enough for you.

'Cause I'm a moon-walking cowboy, dusty riding and I don't know what's in store

Wow, it's been a while. I barely begun this blog and then left it unattended for a month. See, you're already learning so much about me: I love to initiate exciting (at least for me) things, but to keep them going, that's another matter. But I think I'll try harder this time --if not, my narcisstic urge to talk about myself will do the work for me.

But I have some good excuse for not having posted for this long. You want to know what I've been up to? No? I'm going to tell you anyway!

I survived finals thanks to huge amounts of caffeine and nicotine forcefully put into my body, I watched a sick amount of season finales (most of which were terrible), I took a road trip and fell in love with Memphis, I ate so much junk food I will never eat a burger again, I started running everyday while listening to angry rock songs, I had my first American picnic, I tried to address some of my issues and then decided that it would be better to leave them where they are, I went
to the top of the Arch, I've been listening non stop to Blitzen Trapper and "Season of Love" by Shiny Toy Guns (the latter has corny lyrics, but what can I say), I watched Freddy vs Jason and wished Freddy had won, I got tanned and bitten by crazy mosquitoes, I discovered this awesome blog way too late (which you can see by the url only, http://presidentgeorgebush.blogspot.com ), and I realized that bad timing was the story of my life. More on that later (see how I manage to efficiently build suspense? I'm so talented sometimes.)

Now, you want to know why I got caught up in such a whirlwind of activities? If the answer is no, well, you haven't learned much since you started reading this, have you?

This high level of agitation is due to the fact that (and this is when the violins start playing) I am leaving America in exactly 18 days--yep, thats eighteen! And so I am losing a little bit of my heart everyday that goes by. America, you had me at hello.

I don't know what will happen next, or what I will do. What am I supposed to do in a country where people understand my name? Where no one asks me where I'm from? How will I survive without students wearing flip-flops in January? Without frisbee? Without Jon Stewart? Without coffee shops? Without Target?

But most of all, what will I do without you guys? Discuss in 5 pages, font 12, double-spaced.

PS: the title of this post is borrowed from Blitzen Trapper's "Not Your Lover", and if you want me to really like you, you should listen to this band immediately.