Around the internet, Listful Thinking is well-known for doling out the sagest relationship advice, like the time I suggested skipping the flowers and giving your lover a potato, or the time I told you how to convince someone with cool hair to make out with you and rhymed purple with slurple. A lot of people come to me for advice on their love lives. So many people. I’m shaking the people off with a stick, that’s how many there are.
There’s nothing worse than pink and purple heart decorations and things covered with glitter. Paying obscene amounts of money for fancy underwear and overpriced restaurants is stupid. I hate flowers and I think conversation hearts are gross, but I’m going to come right out and say it:
I like Valentine’s Day.
I really do. Every other day of the year it’s uncool to tell the people you appreciate, even platonically, how much you like them. Try telling someone you think they’re awesome on Arbor Day– it won’t go over well. Confess your undying love on Rosh Hashanah and you’ll see what I mean. People are weird and standoffish every other day of the year, but on Valentine’s Day it’s totally cool to walk up to your friends and family members and say, “Hey, here’s some candy that tastes like chalk! Please don’t take the flavor personally, because it means I like you. Isn’t that cool?!”
Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night smiling because I’ve just had a beautiful dream about puppies and bubbles. These are wonderful moments, and if I could record the expression of joy on my face without some kind of creepy, Paranormal Activities camera set-up, I would. Then I would send it to each of you when you’re feeling down, partially to cheer you up and partially to satisfy an overpowering sense of schadenfreude.
Unfortunately, there are times when I wake up in the middle of the night thoroughly convinced that I’m actually a cancerous mass which will destroy everything it touches and die completely and rightfully alone. Someone is going to find my preserved body six years after my death, sitting in front of a computer, surrounded by Snickers wrappers and stuffed cats, empty eye-sockets pointed towards a Google search explaining how to perform the Heimlich maneuver on yourself.
For the sake of practicality and my future neighbors’ noses, I think I should find someone who will at least notice that I’ve choked on a candy bar and expired. I’ve been working on a strategy, and I think it’s finally ready to share with the world.
A Guide to Picking Attractive Strangers Up
1) Establish a firm grip.
2) Lift using your legs, not your back.
3) Ignore their protests and squirms.
Ok, seriously this time.
So You Wanna Pick Up An Attractive Stranger
– Charm them with your rapier wit. Say something cool and casual.
A personal favorite of mine is, “I…of your…do you… I love pens. I mostly use them to write but also sometimes I stab things with them. Not people! I don’t stab people! Except once I hit my brother with a shovel! But I meant, like… packages and stuff. To open them? Ha?”
– Joke with them! Did you know ugly cavemen used a sense of humor to attract cavewomen? My favorite joke demonstrates both my ability to read and memorize Laffy Taffy wrappers, and my inhuman Laffy Taffy-consumption. Yes, I really am a wonder.
There’s something I need to acknowledge. It’s taken me a long time to accept it about myself, but it’s time for me to come out and admit it. I… am a hot damn mess.
Gross May Be An Understatement
– My morning breath is awful.
– If I didn’t shave my legs, there’s a distinct possibility I’d be mistaken for a chimpanzee.
– I Hulk out when I forget to eat. Not in a cute, green-tinged, cutoff-pants kind of way, but in an incoherent, zero-to-psycho in 3 seconds flat kind of way.
– I once listened to the same Ke$ha song 23 times in a row. (She’s catchy. I hate her.)
– I made three people cry with sarcastic comments… last month.
The trouble with vacations is that they give you way too much time to think. I just came back from a vacation that I spent sitting around reading books, eating things that were frighteningly orange, making lists, and having an existential meltdown.
Long story short, I’m graduating in May with no idea what to do with my life and it recently occurred me that eventually I’m going to be old and decrepit. (I’m fun!) How easy would it be to get stuck in some job I feel apathetic towards and waste decades of life? SO EASY, is the answer to that. I know this is absurd and that it doesn’t matter what I pick because I can change my mind. I keep telling myself that, but it isn’t working. The only thing I’m sure I’ll be when I graduate is the kind of obnoxiously pretentious person who claims to have existential crises. The point of this story is that I’ve had a relapse of the second-to-worst kind.