Why must I be so complicated?

Some horses are simply not meant to be broken.

I've never fallen in love by choice or design. My heart has never given me a say in such matters. But isn't that what love is? A calling more powerful than the strongest resolves of men. 

To all of you who believe moving into a bunker 200 feet underground to escape that whole "end of the world in 2012" thing, you might want to let this information marinate for a bit before mailing in your deposit.

First of all, you will turn into one of those ephemeral creatures we so lovingly refer to as the Mole People. There's just no way of getting out of that one, I'm sorry.

More importantly, you'll be with about 500 other paranoid, and most likely, well-armed Glen Back disciples for the next say, um ... 5 years? At least. Now don't get me wrong, I love me some camo gear and Civil War reenactments just as much as the next hot-blooded girl. But shit's going to get real up in that bitch the minute someone cracks the last remaining DVD from those "Left Behind" series. You know - the evangelicals answer to "Twilight".

Even if you have the Jedi mind strength to handle those day at-the-beach scenarios, you're pretty much fucked when some never before seen organism seeps into the food supply. Why? Because your bunk mate is going to go from just creepy to crazy-as-fuck in about 30 seconds after ingesting those little Middle Earth microbes.

It's also common knowledge that no post-apocalyptic civilization actually survives. No, no. Au contraire mon frere. It's the zombies' time to shine, and they're ready for their close-up. Did you hear me? Radical right wing zombies who have been shooting guns since birth. Not cool dude, not cool. And remember, you will have NO WAY OUT.

These are things you might want to consider. Consider yourself warned.

You're welcome.

Please join me in boycotting The Atlantic magazine and it's parent company the Atlantic Media Company. The Atlantic website chose to release information at a certain time without regard for the safety of the Egyptian people.

Do you know what I see every year during the last few days leading up to Christmas? I see men who are in a panic; trying to find the “perfect” gift for their girlfriends or wives at the very last minute. While finding the one gift that will make their loved love jump for joy would be fabulous, I think most men would be happy to find something that doesn’t piss her off and leads to months of no sex and sleeping on the couch.

You have my sympathy guys. Women are hard to shop for. We won’t come out and tell you what we want, and we won’t tell you why we are mad on Christmas day. I can see how bewildering and frustrating it can be when your significant other gives you the silent treatment for no apparent reason. Is it the gift she just opened? Is it because I am not wearing the reindeer sweater her grandmother gave me last year? Is it the because I skipped the cocktail party held by her uptight college roommate who openly hates you, three months ago? There is just no way of knowing, and unfortunately women aren’t breaking this little habit any time soon. So, as a gesture of good will, I’m going to slip you a few tips that will keep your twice yearly blow jobs from becoming a distant memory. So, listen up kids and take some notes. Your sex life depends on it.

1. Do not buy us clothes. Ever.

This is not territory you want to navigate on your own. While many men have attempted to go this route alone, almost none are known to have made it out alive. Learn from your fallen brethren. Stay out of the women’s clothing department – no matter what store you are in. The list of things that can go wrong are endless; and believe me, things will go wrong! For example, if you buy something one size too big, then your girlfriend will assume that you think she’s fat. If you buy something too small, she’s going to think the same thing. That will lead to a pleasant Christmas dinner, won’t it? For men who have sat through a holiday meal watching your wife give you dirty looks while she nibbles on a plate full of celery, you might want to think about you put under the tree that year. Any twinkling light bulbs going off in your head right now?

Along with size, there is also the style issue. Unless you are a straight version of Tim Gunn there is no way you are going to pick something that she will actually wear. If it’s too sexy, she will think you are calling her a slut. If it’s not sexy at all, she will think that you find her as sexy as an Amish grandmother. I’m not going to even bother talking about lingerie. Every man in the world knows how terrible of an idea that is, and if they don’t, well then they deserve the attitude that is most definitely going to come “free of charge” with that gift.

2. Jewelry? It better be a diamond in the shape of an engagement ring.

If you are at the point in your relationship where it is time to tie the knot, be careful not to tie your own noose this upcoming holiday. Admittedly, this tip really only applies to a select portion of the male population, but any guy who plans to get married EVER can benefit from this insider information. If you are not ready to drop to one knee this Christmas Eve, you better let your girlfriend know beforehand. An engagement ring is the female equivalent of a Red Rider, carbine action, two-hundred shot model air rifle. Except we are 100 times more disappointed on Christmas morning when all we get are pjs and a pair of cubic zirconia earrings. I’m warning you now: You WILL pay dearly for this mistake. Remember those things called blow jobs? Well, you better hold on to your memories because they are officially gone.

You may, for various reasons, want to get engaged at a later date; I’m not judging. But you must slip this fact into as many conversations as you can once Thanksgiving rolls around. Remember, women are subtle. You can give her the wrong impression with the slightest statement. Something as tiny as agreeing with her when she says how romantic the latest Hallmark commercial is, can wreak havoc that only Stephen King could imagine. Tell your significant other that getting engaged at Christmas is unoriginal and that you feel she deserves something more. Play up that angle as best you can, and you may avoid a Christmas Day disaster of biblical proportions. It’s Jesus’ day, let him (and you) enjoy it in relative peace instead of hearing his name in a variety of sentences that in no way whatsoever include the words “happy” or “birthday” in them.

3. Jumper cables are not sexy.

I get you guys on this one, I really do. You care about your wife or girlfriend and you want her to be safe when you are not around to save the day. I really think it’s a shame that more women don’t make the connection between tires and true love. Men tend to be the more practical half of a couple and this role comes in handy a lot. However, at Christmas your woman wants romance, not rugged performance snow boots. Skip the AAA membership and get her a gift certificate for a couples massage. Trust me; I know what I’m talking about on this one.

4. Household items are not for the holidays.

If you have ever seen the movie “Father of the Bride” you understand the importance of keeping blenders and toasters as far away from your Christmas tree as possible. For those who don’t know, allow me to fill you in. Women want gifts that do not cause visions of housework to dance in her head. Sure, she has mentioned that a new vacuum would be a great thing, but now is not the time. Would you like it if she got you a ladder and gloves for cleaning out the gutters, instead of the Xbox 360 game Call of Duty: Black Ops? I didn’t think so. Keep this tidbit in mind while you are scanning the shelves at your local mall this Christmas Eve.

5. Listen for clues.

While there are women who write a detailed list of Christmas desires and post them all over the house and car, these women are usually gold diggers. The rest of my gender relies on YOU to pick up the hints that we feel are very clear and straightforward. This is the perfect time to put the detective skills you learned by watching Law and Order re-runs to good use. Look for magazines around the house that are open to a specific page. Read that page carefully. You may hit the jackpot, and find that your love has circled the item she wants already. This has been known to happen; it’s not just a myth.

Television time can also bring you all sorts of insight into the mind of your girlfriend. Notice her reactions to certain commercials. If there is a new cell phone or shoe store being advertised and she gets excited, you can safely assume that these are things she would like to see under the tree. (Not the entire shoe store, even though that would be a female’s dream come true. A gift certificate will work just fine.)

If you are pressed for time and really need to get a present quickly, you can always enlist the help of her friends. Women tell their best friends what’s on this year’s Christmas wish list for this exact reason! Not only will you pick out the perfect gift, but you will also get points for talking to and being nice to her friends. That’s a “buy one get one” deal for sure. That may lead to counter-top sex and a full day of football with the guys. It’s the gift that keeps on giving. Literally.

6. Come on Kris Kringle – get creative!

In a poll of 100 women, 99 agreed that a homemade gift from their significant other is the best present that they could ever receive. The solo nay vote came in absentia from a woman who was not in attendance. She was stuck at home dealing with a Christmas cookie emergency brought on because her husband forgot to bring home shortening like he said he would. I can only imagine how rough his Christmas was that year. Yikes! The sheer horror of it gives me the chills. I’ll put good money down on the fact his wife will bring up this teeny mistake at Easter, the Fourth of July, and Labor Day weekend for at least a few years.

To women, it doesn’t matter what you make, it’s that you made it in the first place. A homemade card is more precious than any kind of expensive present you could ever come up with. (Engagement rings and trips to Tahiti not included, of course.) Yes, your girlfriend might not have a need for a bird house constructed from popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners, but she will keep it forever, believe me. Put a photo album together with pictures of the two of you that she loves. Add some hand-written captions and you will never have to suffer through another Lifetime movie again. That bonus alone should get you up and searching for construction paper right now. If you need any more encouragement, picture the shower sex or road head you will get simply because you pulled out the hot glue gun. Need I say more?

For the women who may be reading this, please try to give your man a break this year. Most guys really do try to make you happy; they are just really, really bad at decoding women-speak. Try to see your gifts through his eyes. You may realize that the man of your dreams is right in front of you … he’s just hidden behind the bow he put on your new washing machine.

As cliché as the saying might be, it really is the thought that counts. Men hate malls like cats hate water. (Men also hate cats, but that’s a different column all together.) Your boyfriend is trying to make you happy and isn’t that what love is all about? The trying part of it? Appreciate the person who is holding his breathe while you open your gifts. Take a second to look at his eyes when you smile and thank him for the presents.The puppy-dog-in-love look will have you wearing the bright orange sweater that is three sizes too big and itchy as a bad case of chickenpox simply because the man you love bought it for you.

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Merry Christmas to every single one of my readers. Thank you for your continued support in my wacky writing endeavors. Without you, I would simply be talking to myself – only I would be doing it online. I hope Santa is good to you. More importantly, I hope the true meaning of Christmas fills your house and your hearts. We only have so much time on the amazing planet, so we need to soak in as much beauty and happiness as we can. What a better time to start than at the happiest time of the year, right?

I will be back in 2011! Until then … be well.

XOXO,

Hadley Slater

Mirror Image

I received an interesting phone call a while back. It was from a college friend of mine, Chloe, who I hadn’t talked to in a while. We spent a few minutes catching up, and then she brought up the real reason behind her call. Chloe wanted to borrow some of my camping gear. She also asked if I could explain how to use it. This seemed like a very random request. I’ve known this girl for almost ten years, and in that time she had never been camping. In fact, to my knowledge, she’s never worn a pair of sneakers. Chloe is from Manhattan; she was 17 before she saw a forest in person.

Chloe had been seeing a new guy, Steve, for about a month. Steve loved activities like camping, hiking, base-jumping – all past-times that my friend had no knowledge of, and even less interest in. They matched up in almost every other category though; both worked in finance, loved Tom Petty, and hated garlic; you know … the important things. To Chloe, a little lie or two about her outdoor experience was justified. She wanted to get closer to Steve by taking part in his favorite activities. Chloe also reasoned that since she’d never been camping, or even outside for more than a few hours, she didn't know if she liked camping or not. This was the perfect opportunity for her to find out.

As it turned out, Chloe did NOT enjoy camping, in fact, she actually despised it. After our phone call, I met up with Chloe, camping gear in hand. I gave her a quick demonstration of each item and big hug for luck. I was only 50% sure that she would return, and 80% sure that she was going to put high heels into her backpack. There were way too many things that could go wrong, and, shockingly, most of them did. Their weekend away began badly and continued to get worse with each passing hour. It was like a live version of a B-rated romantic comedy minus the happy ending.

Less than an hour into their trip, the couple got completely lost on the drive to the campsite. They arrived so late that they had to set up their equipment in the dark. Chloe forgot to load half of the food they had purchased for the trip into the car. So that evening’s dinner consisted of dry Kashi cereal, cheetos, and red wine. Chloe had made a valiant attempt at putting up the tent while Steve started a fire, but she wasn’t quite successful. It looked fine, but an hour after they fell asleep the tent collapsed on them, causing Chloe to scream at a pitch that only a few animals can here. Steve tried to fix the tent in complete darkness, and he wound up breaking one of the support poles. For the rest of the night, rain water would pool on top of the tent until the canvas could no longer support the extra weight and then, like a trap door being opened, the rain water would pour into the tent soaking their feet and anything else that was located close by.

The next morning an unhappy Chloe could barely maintain her composure. She tried her best to smile and have fun while silently regretting that she lied in the first place. Steve could clearly tell that this wasn’t her dream weekend, and their conversations were becoming shorter and more uncomfortable by the minute. Steve had planned an all-day hike for their second day in the woods. In less than two hours Chloe had blisters on both feet; bug bites on her arms and legs courtesy of some unusually aggressive, and possibly pre-historic, mosquitoes; and she was ready to trade her parents to a tribe of cannibals for a hot shower.

Later that night it began to rain again, and Chloe finally came unglued. She threw a temper tantrum, cursing Steve, the trip, and Mother Nature herself. Seriously. Chloe went all “two-year old tantrum” on his ass. Steve was furious that she had lied about her lack of camping experience, and refused to speak for the rest of the night. The fighting couple left the next morning at 6 a.m. As a final “fuck you” from nature, Chloe slipped on a hill that was only minutes from the car. She landed hard in what she thought was mud. It only took her a few seconds to realize that she was lying in a pile of dog droppings. All she could scream was, “Shit!”

While Chloe filled me in on her camping trip from hell, it made me wonder why so many people put themselves in that position. We have all done it, and most of the time ended up regretting it. There are many reasons why feigning interest in things we don’t like is a bad idea. First off, YOU’RE LYING! It may not be as bad as hiding the fact that you are married, but it’s still not going to go over well. Sure, you can try to justify your deception, but a lie is a lie. You are seriously screwing your relationship karma, and as they say, karma is a bitch.

Second, what if you find that you hate the very thing you claim to enjoy? Saying you love renaissance fairs is one thing, but going to one every single weekend is going to wear thin after a while. You will have no choice but to suck it up, put on medieval keg-wench costume you had to spend $300 on, and spend your precious time off watching grown men dance around in capes and have fake sword fights. This is how drinking problems get started.

I’m guilty of this action too; I faked my enthusiasm for something that I didn’t really like just to impress a guy. This man was a techno super-fan and I told him I like that kind of music. Wow! That was a bad move; like “deciding to get a face tattoo while being on a five day drinking bender in Bangladesh” kind of bad. But, this guy was hot and funny; it seemed like a good trade-off at the time. I bluffed my way through our first conversation, and I attempted to learn as much as I could on the subject before I saw him again. I went to my local music store and grabbed a handful of CDs by the artists that “Techno Boy” had been praising. About five minutes into my research I realized I had just wasted $75 on the worst music ever created. Seriously, that shit is terrible. I believe techno started out as the theme music for hell. It’s not music; it is 30 car alarms going off all at once. I wouldn’t be surprised if techno music was found to cause seizures in long-time listeners.

It didn’t take long for me to decide that Techno Boy was not worth making my ears bleed. Yes, he was a good guy and I always enjoyed my time with him. I couldn’t come clean and tell him that I had faked my love for repetitive bass lines and glow sticks, so I blamed my school schedule when I suddenly stopped answering his calls. Our relationship ended well; we remained friends. Yet, I wonder how far we could have gone if I was simply honest about my musical preferences.

It may seem harmless to us when we agree that old radio restoration is an exhilarating pastime, but our tune changes when we are the ones being deceived. I think having common interests can be great for a relationship; it’s nice to be able to share our passions with the person we love. If your significant other secretly hates going to museums with you, he or she is going to try to persuade you to do something else. You can become resentful when you find out that your love really doesn’t dig going to tag sales. It sucks to become the victim of false advertising; there is no refund for lost time.

In a strange twist of fate, Chloe’s lies led her to meet a man who honestly enjoyed all the same things she did. She had purchased some camping gear of her own for the trip. She couldn’t return the equipment fast enough. While waiting in line, she talked to the man behind her. He was exchanging a fishing pole that he received as a birthday present. The two started talking to each other, laughing about their various run-ins with Mother Nature. Within minutes they exchanged phone numbers and they have been dating ever since. None of their dates have included mud, trees, or Kashi cereal.

As for me, I traded in the techno CDs for music I really liked, and vowed never to put myself in that position again. In the end, relationships do not need identical pastimes to succeed, but without honestly and communication they will always fail. If you want to find a person who fits you, you need to know what kind of person you are first. And that is no lie.

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