I'm Modern, But I'm Not THAT Modern

  We 90s kids (meaning children who grew up in the nineties, not kids who were born in the nineties) have some interesting perspectives on relationships.
    Some informal statistics: 3 out 4 guys between the ages of 20 and 30 never, or probably never, want to have kids. 2 out of 4 guys in the same age group never want to get married. However, 4 out of 4 guys want to be in a monogamous relationship if they were in a relationship (note: this is more due to fear of STDs than desire to commit). No, I didn't completely make these stats up, but I did take them from a VERY small sample of people in my age group. Things have sure changed over the years. Even 30 years ago, 3 out of 4 guys probably wanted kids; wanted to get married, someday, at least, if not right that second; and I don't know about the monogamy thing, but the concern for STDs was not nearly as high then as it is now. Plus, now we have to worry about AIDS.
    Girls, however, seem as traditional as ever. Girls in this age bracket still plan on getting married, many, it seems, because they watch too much reality TV and want the big, expensive, overblown wedding that's going to put papa in the poorhouse. Girls still want children, though not in as high of numbers as they did previously. Girls, for the most part, want monogamy, partly for fear of STDs, but more for desire for commitment.
    I won't tell how I fall into these statistics, because I have a feeling I'm the exception rather than the rule here, but it amazes me how girls remain so traditional when the men in our age group seem to rush toward a modernity that clashes seriously with those traditional values.
    It doesn't surprise me at all that the divorce rate is so high, because men and women seem to be on two different wavelengths when it comes to relationships and how to be in one. We are a spoiled group (though I have no doubt that the youngsters who are in the age group immediately after ours are even more spoiled), and we seem to forget that relationships are, in the end and inevitably so, about compromise. Guys seem to want to rebel against the Oprah-indoctrinated women who want to change them, and therefore, refuse to change at all. Women, on the other hand, seem to want to do everything they can to create the fairy tale romance, the perfect man, the ideal soulmate (never mind that they picked him up at a Burger King) that they've so often seen and swooned after in movies and television programs.
    I may be very accommodating in a relationship--too forgiving, perhaps, in some cases--but there are some things I just won't do, no matter how cool and easy-going I wish to appear. I will not participate in "an open relationship" (for anyone not up to speed with that term: a relationship in which both partners are permitted to see other people but remain connected--though not necessarily committed--to each other in a romantic way). Open relationships seem to defeat the purpose. If you're going to date or screw other people, do it, but don't pretend you still want the person you're in an open relationship with after you do it. You're kidding yourself and each other. Take separate bedrooms. Have your own boys' nights and girls' nights, but don't sit there and pretend like dating other people makes your relationship stronger.
    I hope I haven't offended anyone, but if so, feel free to tell me off in the comments. I will moderate generously.

Meatloaf anyone? (Hint: I'm thinking of a song lyric, 

and no, I don't expect your thought path to be the same as mine.)

A (Lady) Bug's Life

  Standing in line at Qdoba for lunch, the four of us (my coworkers and I) noticed a ladybug crawling along the cracks in the tile, moving with the line. Apparently, it was a "fake" ladybug, something I didn't even know existed. Apparently, it was a ladybug imposter that looks just like a ladybug only darker. They eat the fruit or the vegetable, while true ladybugs eat the other bugs (aphids) that eat the fruit or vegetable. It occurred to me how evolutionarily advantageous this was. (I actually articulated this, and didn't stumble over the word "evolutionarily".) We watched for a painstaking, horrifying 5 minutes as the ladybug imposter inched closer and closer to the front of the line.
    There was a man at the counter who was shifting his weight and moving his feet around. We avoided the little bugger, but as the bug got closer to the counter (and past his place in line, I might add), it became alarmingly clear that he was probably going to get stepped on, and what's more, it would be the weight-shifting yakker ahead of us who would unknowingly do the deed. And sure enough, ladybug imposter gets closer, closer, and then, weight-shifter shifts again and... SMUSH.
    We had a brief psychological/philosophical discussion about the bug still being alive after getting stepped on, the size of its brain, and whether it was able to feel pain. My inclination was no. The bug may not have died on impact, but what little brains it has surely can't register pain anymore, I thought. Its head is probably the most vulnerable part, and would have probably been crushed more than its back when stepped on. Any life left in it would be reflexes, not neurological commands. I didn't want to get into it, and as we were at the place in line where we could order finally, I didn't have to.
    But, how did the little ladybug imposter get inside the Qdoba? Did he walk, as we saw him doing? Did he fly through the door as it opened? Or did he land on some unsuspecting burrito lover who carried him in? How did he reach his eventual demise? We'll never know, but that's why there are people like me. To imagine a plot in which a ladybug imposter finds himself on the floor at Qdoba.

Ladybug imposter? Bah, humbug.

No Regrets

Most things seem to happen for no apparent reason at all. But some things work out perfectly every once in a while, as if by design. People who have regrets don't believe this. People who have regrets are also people who blame someone else for what happened to them.
    It may be childish or fantastical, but I think it's nice to think that some things happen for a reason, even if they don't work out the way you originally had in mind. We're only human and sometimes our design isn't fully thought out or doesn't take certain things into account. But the universe, whether you want to call it that, or God, or destiny, can see things from every angle and see the game 20 moves ahead. For this reason, the universe can arrange things to play out perfectly from time to time. Sometimes, it takes us some time to realize that it was for the best that things happened in such a way.
    Pessimists and regretful people have a tendency not to see things as having worked out for the best. Maybe it's self-importance, wanting things to go their way or the highway, or maybe it's just closed-mindedness, that if things didn't go a certain way, they went the wrong way. It's unfortunate, because if you only look at the world from that perspective, you end up missing out on some of the beautiful and amazing, if unexpected, things that happen.
    I find regrets to be a waste of time. Regrets mean that you focus on something that happened in the past, and if that is still eating away at you, weeks or months or years later, part of you is being wasted and consumed by something that shouldn't matter anymore. It only still has bearing on your life because you allow it to. While my life has certainly not gone according to any plans I made at any point--eight years ago, I was going to move to New York when I was 18 and be a writer, and that didn't happen--I can't say that I regret anything that's happened to me or that I've done.
    Other people, were they in my shoes, might regret some of the things in my life. I spent three and a half years on a degree that didn't help me get a job very easily. But I did get a job. A great job that I really enjoy. It has absolutely nothing to with my degree, but I never expected to go into philosophy after all. I expected to have a bachelor's degree, some more knowledge than I started with, and to be a more well-rounded person, and that's all true. So how can I possibly regret something that put me in a good place in my life, even if it took a little longer than expected? Answer: I don't.
    There are plenty of other things that could have thrown me off track and made me regret that they happened or changed me in a way I didn't want to be changed. But even all the bad things that have happened, all the things that went wrong thus far in my young life, put me where I am today and prepared me for other things I would face. They made me stronger, and for that, I can't really regret those things either. Even if they sucked when they happened, I can't really blame anyone for what happened, even if a person was the catalyst that caused that particular event to happen. Blame is a by-product of regret, and if you don't regret anything, you can't blame anyone for where you are today or what has happened to you up until now.
    As they say, you can't make an omelet without cracking a few eggs, and sometimes the things that don't go according to plan are the eggs that the universe breaks to help you make your omelet. (That came out so much cheesier than I meant it to, but oh well.) Next time something goes wrong, give it a chance to work itself out before automatically writing it off as the universe being out to screw you over again. That seemingly unfortunate, unexpected event may lead to something great.

Sing in the rain.