I had an interview with a Chinese newspaper the other day. The journalist turns out to know both my mom and dad. He said something like, "Oh, you have good lineage." I'm not sure what that means but I took it as a good thing. The interview was set up by a family friend, Aunt Anna, who has taken a nice interest in my writing. She sent out some query emails to two Chinese publications and a few days later, two interviews! I'll be conducting both in my amazing Chinglish.
This particular writer actually has quite the story himself. He was in the Army for twenty years as a war correspondent. He wrote a book in 1985 about an ex-soldier who has been wounded and lost an eye, and then he moves to America but isn't sure if it's the right place for him. He said they printed 90,000 copies of the book at the time. That's a huge number. If a book sold 100,000 copies nowadays, that would be a runaway best seller. Due to a larger population and less competition for publication, it was semi-normal for a book run back then. I think nowadays if you had an initial print run of 30,000 you'd be leaping for joy.
Part of me wishes I had the ability and training to do interviews. I love learning about people and asking them all sorts of questions. I'm pretty much curious about anything. Strangely, I hate reading interviews, especially the ones with celebrities or musicians or whatnot. The format loses me for some reason, even though the words are much more direct than through a story that has the occasional quote. I'd really love to follow someone(s) around and try my hand at documenting their words/life.
I love reading the spotlights and profiles in Entertainment Weekly or Rolling Stone. It's like you find an angle, spin it out, and then get to tell the world what you think the person is like. The skill of interviewing is something I'd be interested in acquiring.
I've had thoughts about coming up with mini-profiles and articles about people I know in my life (or even strangers?) but it's difficult because sometimes in trying to tell a story, you might have to say negative or possibly offensive things. For example, what if I wrote that someone seemed "flippant, superficial, immature, or uncultured?" They'd hate me forever!
But if someone is willing to be a test subject, I'm game to try profiling them. I really admire the people who can capture a person's look or persona with just a few sentences and details. I'm wholly incapable of it so I should really practice.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Day 316
Whoosh, and there goes the summer. It's only mid-July, summer weather has finally arrived to San Diego, and I've yet to actually get on a surfboard. Sadly, I already see the sun setting on Summer 2009. This month it's writing by mid-day, hang out by night, hitting the beach whenever I can, and then a return to San Francisco by early August. There's quite a few visitors slated for SF in August, led off by Des and Andri, and then Greg and Caroline. My biggest dilemma right now is whether or not to go to New York in August, before Palak's wedding. While New York in the summer is my favorite, half my reasons for going won't be there. Still, when has a New York trip ever been bad? That's it, I'm committing. I'm going. If I don't go anywhere with my summer, I'll feel like it's been wasted.
I've lately been feeling like if I don't go somewhere out of the country soon, my entire year will have been wasted. I've been asking around to figure out what sorts of programs allow you to go overseas and they pay for your room and board. I guess I could teach English, I mean, I speak it. But I'm not sure that's a good solution to what I'm looking for. For two seconds I even thought about the Peace Corps. But I hate the Peace Corps, and I couldn't commit for longer than three days anyway. Pretty much, I just want out somewhere.
So what else? Well, not much really. The first draft of my next book is due in August, and this time I hope it'll be two hundred times better than the first book. People have been asking me how EC is doing and to be honest, I don't know. The publisher doesn't tell me and it's hard to gauge sales otherwise. I feel like I'm not putting enough effort into doing the promotional and marketing bit, seeing as this is such a commercial work, but I'm also not quite entirely sure what I'm slacking on. I think I'll work on a book signing somewhere, just to have the experience. Maybe I can do one in New York! That's an idea. What I really need is someone who knows someone famous to give them a copy of EC and then they can be seen carrying it around. Quick, someone tell me who they know that's a celebrity. Go.
The other day, I had lunch with a family friend, call him Uncle Dragon, which is a too literal translation of his name. It was the type of talk that I probably need more of, and in the past I'd normally balk at, but I don't mind it nowadays. The "how are you" and "let me give you some advice" talk. You know, fatherly talk. I realized recently that it seems like most people have advisors to whom they ask about life decisions. Not minor ones but big ones. Maybe it's a parent, or a close friend, or a sibling, or something. When you find yourself at a crossroads, or even if you're not, these advice people tell you what they think of how you're doing.
I don't have these people. My life decisions aren't really bounced off of anybody. Not that my life decisions are all that serious or necessarily hard to solve, but I generally think about something, figure out what I want, and then announce it. This may not be the best way about things. While I certainly don't like being told what to do (I mean, isn't that what my Mom is for?), I'm beginning to suspect that it's somewhat abnormal to not seek counsel from anyone.
Uncle Dragon gave me some good advice, and some personality analysis. We mostly talked about jobs and career, and what it means to have self-respect. He made some excellent points, about me lacking patience and unwillingness to go through the lows to achieve the highs. I don't think he was necessarily very on target all the time but it's good to hear things from "the wiser" once in awhile.
I really wanted to ask him something, but I wasn't sure he would get where I was coming from. I wanted to ask, "What's the point (of all this)?" But I didn't want to get into a tangent about religion, or having a family, or being happy, or any of that. I just wanted to thank him for his time and to make him feel like he helped.
When I'm older, I wonder what sorts of advice I'll be giving, and how it'll be received.
I've lately been feeling like if I don't go somewhere out of the country soon, my entire year will have been wasted. I've been asking around to figure out what sorts of programs allow you to go overseas and they pay for your room and board. I guess I could teach English, I mean, I speak it. But I'm not sure that's a good solution to what I'm looking for. For two seconds I even thought about the Peace Corps. But I hate the Peace Corps, and I couldn't commit for longer than three days anyway. Pretty much, I just want out somewhere.
So what else? Well, not much really. The first draft of my next book is due in August, and this time I hope it'll be two hundred times better than the first book. People have been asking me how EC is doing and to be honest, I don't know. The publisher doesn't tell me and it's hard to gauge sales otherwise. I feel like I'm not putting enough effort into doing the promotional and marketing bit, seeing as this is such a commercial work, but I'm also not quite entirely sure what I'm slacking on. I think I'll work on a book signing somewhere, just to have the experience. Maybe I can do one in New York! That's an idea. What I really need is someone who knows someone famous to give them a copy of EC and then they can be seen carrying it around. Quick, someone tell me who they know that's a celebrity. Go.
The other day, I had lunch with a family friend, call him Uncle Dragon, which is a too literal translation of his name. It was the type of talk that I probably need more of, and in the past I'd normally balk at, but I don't mind it nowadays. The "how are you" and "let me give you some advice" talk. You know, fatherly talk. I realized recently that it seems like most people have advisors to whom they ask about life decisions. Not minor ones but big ones. Maybe it's a parent, or a close friend, or a sibling, or something. When you find yourself at a crossroads, or even if you're not, these advice people tell you what they think of how you're doing.
I don't have these people. My life decisions aren't really bounced off of anybody. Not that my life decisions are all that serious or necessarily hard to solve, but I generally think about something, figure out what I want, and then announce it. This may not be the best way about things. While I certainly don't like being told what to do (I mean, isn't that what my Mom is for?), I'm beginning to suspect that it's somewhat abnormal to not seek counsel from anyone.
Uncle Dragon gave me some good advice, and some personality analysis. We mostly talked about jobs and career, and what it means to have self-respect. He made some excellent points, about me lacking patience and unwillingness to go through the lows to achieve the highs. I don't think he was necessarily very on target all the time but it's good to hear things from "the wiser" once in awhile.
I really wanted to ask him something, but I wasn't sure he would get where I was coming from. I wanted to ask, "What's the point (of all this)?" But I didn't want to get into a tangent about religion, or having a family, or being happy, or any of that. I just wanted to thank him for his time and to make him feel like he helped.
When I'm older, I wonder what sorts of advice I'll be giving, and how it'll be received.
"Young people don't know anything -- especially that they're young."
-Mad Men-
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Day 311
I wonder how many people are in love with Claire Danes, or were in love. With Angela, I guess, more accurately. I'm watching her talk to Letterman at age sixteen. It's a bit inconceivable that sixteen year olds are like this. I mean, she pretty much looks the same now, and her subsequent appearances on Late Night aren't necessarily more poised or more mature, or older, etc. I mean, compare her to the awkwardly spazzy Kristin Stewart, who was eighteen when she did her "star" turn on Letterman.
I'm trying to figure out, in watching Claire talk, if I've basically templated my dream girl out of some combination of Angela Chase, Natalie Portman (mainly Marty in Beautiful Girls), and Dorothy. All young naif-ish girls who are mature beyond their years. I'm pretty much destined to date young I've decided. Why fight it? All this and I haven't even read Lolita yet.
Recently, I've been having talks with people about the themes in their love lives. What types of people they are attracted to, who gets attracted to them, etc. For the most part, we're all old enough now where history is a big enough factor to go back and pick out some patterns and such. What I'm discovering is that I pretty much haven't moved past adolescence as far as what I'm attracted to.
What I have learned to do, is verbalize and pinpoint better exactly what I'm looking for. A new trait I think I like, for example, is neuroticism. I like people who read into all sorts of little things. Nervousness as something to talk about. If someone is super neurotic, it generally means they're really observant -- and we won't run out of things to obsess over. Now, while I know I'm attracted to this, I'm not sure if that's a good thing. Heavy neuroses might lead to terrible relationships (especially with me), but yet it's a quality I'm instantly attracted to. It's like I like that emotional and mental high maintenance, but if I were to actually date that, it would be a disaster.
I want to start a service (or write a book) about the importance of that first real relationship. I'm often of the idea "date that first one, get it out of the way, move on." But that really doesn't give enough importance to your first real significant other. Shit, that stuff will reverberate with you forever. Talk about being ruined for life. Anything bad (or good) in that first relationship and you'll be stuck figuring it out for the next fifteen years, or living in an infinite loop if you're destined for a tragic love story.
My service would provide parents and friends with the knowledge that their child will have the perfect first boy/girlfriend. We'd even do a psychological profile and figure out the best way for this perfect first person to exit their life gracefully after a year or two. Puppy love is fun and cute and all but we all know that there's no better way to scar yourself forever than through those first experiences.
This is probably a million dollar idea, but I'd only charge an hourly fee of twenty bucks or so.
Also, in talking about people recently, I've been using the term "gravity" and "attraction." Some people have attraction, some people have gravity. In short, attraction only works on certain types of people. Like magnetism, there's one pole that attracts and one pole that repels. People with romance gravity however, just suck the opposite sex right in. "She's got strong gravity, any guy who hangs around her will end up liking her." I have to refine this theory and come up with some examples, but it looks promising already.
I'm trying to figure out, in watching Claire talk, if I've basically templated my dream girl out of some combination of Angela Chase, Natalie Portman (mainly Marty in Beautiful Girls), and Dorothy. All young naif-ish girls who are mature beyond their years. I'm pretty much destined to date young I've decided. Why fight it? All this and I haven't even read Lolita yet.
Recently, I've been having talks with people about the themes in their love lives. What types of people they are attracted to, who gets attracted to them, etc. For the most part, we're all old enough now where history is a big enough factor to go back and pick out some patterns and such. What I'm discovering is that I pretty much haven't moved past adolescence as far as what I'm attracted to.
What I have learned to do, is verbalize and pinpoint better exactly what I'm looking for. A new trait I think I like, for example, is neuroticism. I like people who read into all sorts of little things. Nervousness as something to talk about. If someone is super neurotic, it generally means they're really observant -- and we won't run out of things to obsess over. Now, while I know I'm attracted to this, I'm not sure if that's a good thing. Heavy neuroses might lead to terrible relationships (especially with me), but yet it's a quality I'm instantly attracted to. It's like I like that emotional and mental high maintenance, but if I were to actually date that, it would be a disaster.
I want to start a service (or write a book) about the importance of that first real relationship. I'm often of the idea "date that first one, get it out of the way, move on." But that really doesn't give enough importance to your first real significant other. Shit, that stuff will reverberate with you forever. Talk about being ruined for life. Anything bad (or good) in that first relationship and you'll be stuck figuring it out for the next fifteen years, or living in an infinite loop if you're destined for a tragic love story.
My service would provide parents and friends with the knowledge that their child will have the perfect first boy/girlfriend. We'd even do a psychological profile and figure out the best way for this perfect first person to exit their life gracefully after a year or two. Puppy love is fun and cute and all but we all know that there's no better way to scar yourself forever than through those first experiences.
This is probably a million dollar idea, but I'd only charge an hourly fee of twenty bucks or so.
Also, in talking about people recently, I've been using the term "gravity" and "attraction." Some people have attraction, some people have gravity. In short, attraction only works on certain types of people. Like magnetism, there's one pole that attracts and one pole that repels. People with romance gravity however, just suck the opposite sex right in. "She's got strong gravity, any guy who hangs around her will end up liking her." I have to refine this theory and come up with some examples, but it looks promising already.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
L.O.V.E. Story
Strangely, I don't have much to say post-Lynn's wedding. It was a great time, it was almost exactly as expected, and there were some really memorable small and big moments. Recently I feel like there's been a lot of events and I've been trying to furiously scribble them down in my journal but it's a losing battle. The more you try to write down and remember, the more you're likely to forget.We talked late on Saturday night, after the wedding, about having some sort of telepathy machine to allow us to experience things from someone else's perspective. I think I'd settle for just having a machine that allows me to experience things (again) from my own perspective. Like that Ralph Fiennes and Angela Bassett movie, "Strange Days." They had a technology that allowed you to record your memories and emotions, and then play them back via a CD player thing. I need one of those. Actually, technology is far enough along to strap a pinhole camera to your body at all times, so you could kind of approximate it, but that would just be weird. Right?
Things can happen so fast that you don't really reflect on them enough, or allow the impact to sink it. That's the tragedy, I think, of a busy life. Not that I have one. I just have an extensive journal awaiting updates, which keeps me seemingly busy.
The most touching moment for me? When Ed sang Nat King Cole's "L is for the way you look at me / O is for the only one I see / V is very very extra-ordinary / E is even more than anyone that you adore can." He held the mic in one hand while holding her and dancing with the other. It was romantic in a very real way, it was public yet private, and it was incredibly sweet. Bravo Ed.
The place they had the wedding was gorgeous. Entirely outdoors, acres and acres of beautiful trees and foliage. It was reminiscent of PZ and Amy's wedding actually, the way different events were held at different locations. And the pre-hype was no lie, there really were white tigers on the premises, even if I didn't see them for more than one fleeting moment as we drove by. I'm not sure what kind of venue I expected but it wasn't this. Like wow.
Lynn and Ed exchanged their vows via haiku, which was irreverent, different, and apparently, ultimately, them. Like Babbs said, "I didn't know why I didn't expect something like that from Lynn. I should have known, I just didn't guess." That sums up my thoughts about the whole wedding. Of course this was going to be an impeccably planned and beautiful wedding, with class and taste and fun involved throughout. And of course she planned this totally stress free and had everything turn out perfectly. This was a Lynnchen affair after all wasn't it?
I kept an orange and brown napkin from the wedding. It somehow mysteriously stayed with Dann through dinner and then transitioned to his back pocket while he was dancing, and it made it all the way back to the hotel room. He left it there but I nabbed it because I thought it would be nice to have something tangible to remember the weekend by, aside from just pictures and memories.
There is some sort of karmic shift in the world actually, now that Lynn is officially married. I have a tough time pinpointing it. I've tried to speak to some people about it but I'm not sure everyone understands. It's not like this is just someone else who got married, another in the long string of celebrations. This is like Lynn getting married. It means something. It's not as quaint as people having crushes on her or liking her and now she's taken. It's not about Lynn representing this ideal partner for many, in group discussions. It's not about Lynn being a different person or leading a different life now that she's married. It's about something else/more... and I can't quite put my finger on it, or articulate it, and it probably only feels this way to a handful of people. I need to find those people and have a conversation about this.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Day 299
I wait outside on the curb for my cab, the second one I've called tonight, feeling warm and buzzed but ready to go home. Mona canceled my first cab because she demanded that I needed to stay longer. I didn't argue. Hong had a big headache all night and was definitely not committed to having fun. He was already mentally tapped out of the wedding festivities the previous night, during the sangeet. His main goal was to get home and play poker. I swear nothing excites Hong anymore except gambling.
I wasn't ready to stop the experience yet though. After missing the ceremony part of the wedding, after standing in the wrong place afterwards (Mandisa: "You guys look adorable." Us: "Crap, we just missed your vows"), and after an off-and-on reception, the night was just gearing up. No way was I leaving yet. So at midnight, Hong and I parted ways. I to more Patron shots and champagne, Hong to home.
Three hours later, I was definitely feeling the burn but had jammed in some additional fun, and was now headed back to Eric and Anna's. As I leapt into my taxi, my skinny cabby asked where to. "Sterling Heights," I said. The girl in the passenger seat groaned. She had just been picked up too, and wanted to head home first. It was on the way, sort of. Being the gentleman that I am, I offered, "You can take her home first, no problem." She thanked me and offered cigarettes -- the perfect payment -- and we cruised around the streets of Michigan smoking with the windows down. I felt great.
Twenty minutes of staring at my GPS dot later, I was feeling a little worn down. Tired from the lack of sleep, stomach woozy from the alcohol, I was afraid I wasn't going to make it. I wondered what would be worse? Puking in the cab or puking in the Agustins, home of three wonderful babies? Thankfully, my double shot of Pepcid AC from earlier in the night held through and I arrived home to Hong and Eric playing chess.
Did I mention the cab cost $100? I couldn't decide if I had just tipped him generously or if I'd been swindled. Either way, it was worth it. Things that are always worth a few extra bucks: good times extended and basketball in a gym.
I wasn't ready to stop the experience yet though. After missing the ceremony part of the wedding, after standing in the wrong place afterwards (Mandisa: "You guys look adorable." Us: "Crap, we just missed your vows"), and after an off-and-on reception, the night was just gearing up. No way was I leaving yet. So at midnight, Hong and I parted ways. I to more Patron shots and champagne, Hong to home.
Three hours later, I was definitely feeling the burn but had jammed in some additional fun, and was now headed back to Eric and Anna's. As I leapt into my taxi, my skinny cabby asked where to. "Sterling Heights," I said. The girl in the passenger seat groaned. She had just been picked up too, and wanted to head home first. It was on the way, sort of. Being the gentleman that I am, I offered, "You can take her home first, no problem." She thanked me and offered cigarettes -- the perfect payment -- and we cruised around the streets of Michigan smoking with the windows down. I felt great.
Twenty minutes of staring at my GPS dot later, I was feeling a little worn down. Tired from the lack of sleep, stomach woozy from the alcohol, I was afraid I wasn't going to make it. I wondered what would be worse? Puking in the cab or puking in the Agustins, home of three wonderful babies? Thankfully, my double shot of Pepcid AC from earlier in the night held through and I arrived home to Hong and Eric playing chess.
Did I mention the cab cost $100? I couldn't decide if I had just tipped him generously or if I'd been swindled. Either way, it was worth it. Things that are always worth a few extra bucks: good times extended and basketball in a gym.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Day 296
My class is over. We had our final performance last night and the whole thing came off famously. I wasn't sure how many people would show up but the room was packed. Easily fifty or more people. When we arrived for rehearsal, we each got a chance to stand up on the stage and practice adjusting the mic, read a few paragraphs, and get a good view from the elevated platform. That view was so key, but it can be disconcerting to look over a crowd for the first time. Seeing empty chairs and getting a sense of the space was useful.I hadn't memorized any bits of my story. I knew that would make maintaining eye contact easier but I felt it was more important to get my words right. I'll look up when I got the chance. I had spent the previous night revising, making everything more colloquial, taking out all the alliteration that made my FOB-tongue stumble, and inserting a few more transitional phrases. I felt good about the piece, I felt good about my practice. The advice that Jon G and Heather gave me that afternoon was to "show more emotion." That could have been their advice to me for life, not just this performance.
Originally, I was slated to go second to last, right after intermission. In my head, I knew that my piece would probably work best first. It was short, it was frothy, and it was less serious than anybody else's. Chuck and Cathlin were the experienced performers of the group and maybe they should have bookended it, but both of their pieces were long. As we rehearsed, Sam changed the order and asked if Yasmine or I could go first. I volunteered myself. Not because I was dying to get on stage first, but because I just wanted it to be over.
Some people thrive on attention, spotlight, and audience feedback, I do not. It just makes me insanely nervous and self conscious. I had decided not to wear my typical thermal under my t-shirt for exactly this reason. Recently I've been breaking out in a mild sweat whenever something uncomfortable has been happening (speed dating, random social events). It's like Spidey sense, but useless and embarrassing.
I wanted to wear my hoodie up on stage, because it gave me more girth, but the whole space was so damn hot that I just ended up reading in my white tee. I sweated anyway, pausing a few times during my ten minute reading to wipe my head and then clear my palms. Goodness.
Overall, my reading went well. I'd like to think that I pull through better in the clutch. And I know I gave my best performance that night, with some good pauses, some better articulation, and better facial expressions. So it was a success. At the same time, it wasn't nearly as good as it could have been. I wish someone else had read it, then it would have been better. But that's not what this life challenge was about. I had to get up there and read. And I did.
Something to work on for next time: figuring out what to do with my hands. I tend to clasp and unclasp them. It makes me look intensely nervous and childish. Neither of which I was, of course.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Class Assignment: Final
The Art of Relationship War
A How-to
Pat Benatar, with her feline eyes and massive collection of spandex onesies, told us a long time ago, “Love is a Battlefield.” She sonically declared there would be no promises, no demands, and only love as war. The video for her song featured choreographed dancers doing moves that would now be relegated to the six o’clock aerobic hip hop class. But back then, as Pat shoulder shimmied a sleazeball off the dance floor and right out of her life, I knew that what she had to say was forever true: Love was a battlefield.
It makes so much sense doesn’t it? Love as war? A person’s heart has to be defended at all costs. Battles waged in the name of love have to be as fierce as those waged for independence. Fiercer even. Cast aside family ties and fight, like brother versus brother at Gettysburg. Overcome invincible odds like the heroic 300 did at Thermopylae. Charge epically, romantically, suicidally, into battle like the Light Brigade. That’s how fiercely you have to fight for love. As Wesley from the Princess Bride tells us, the fight is always “to the pain!”
So, when engaged in ultimate battle, with no recourse but the utter destruction of your enemy, who to turn to for advice but the Chinese? Well, not me exactly. But more specifically, Sun-Tzu, legendary theorist, heroic general, best selling author, and almost certainly a hit with the ladies. Somewhere in this spindly body of mine, his blood courses strong and proud, waiting to take over and assume command.
Sun-Tzu, he of the super styling fu manchu, laid down thirteen steps for success in any war-like endeavor. He started with Laying of the Plans (”Get a girlfriend”), asked for a definition of success (”Got a girlfriend”), and then wound through Plans for Attacking, Positioning, and Deceiving (”Keeping a girlfriend”). His last two chapters, the ones covering the proper use of fire and spies, were tactical masterpieces -- and my personal favorites -- so I’ll highlight a few things from there.
Who, when given the opportunity, hasn’t looked at their significant other’s email? Just a quick peek your heart says, while your brain is helplessly muttering, “Don’t do it! Respect her privacy!” That rational brain is soon screaming, “Who the fuck is this Mike character and why is he emailing her five times a day?” A bullet, imagined or not, is tearing through layers of your skin, your bone, your cartilage, fat, tendons and trust. The gaping hole left behind is waiting for some answers. You need some truth.
But (!), don't confront her, because then she’ll know you’ve been spying. Answers can be far more easily attained through a quick Google search. I highly recommend using quotes around the first and last name for more accurate results. It just works better.
Spying, or the gathering of intelligence, is usually counter intelligent. But being stupid can sometimes be really smart. You knew by opening Pamela’s inbox, that nothing positive could conceivably come flooding out. It would have been better to slide your mouse over to the “Sign Off” button and be done with it. But love is war, and knowing is half the battle. So I -- I mean, you -- read on, and maybe copy-paste some incriminating phrases. Maybe forward a line or two along to your friends for analysis. Then maybe send the whole thing when they ask for “more context.” All fuel for fiery retribution.
In his chapter dealing with fire, Sun-Tzu recommends waiting until the perfect moment to unleash vengeful fury. “If there is an outbreak of fire, but the enemy’s soldiers remain quiet, bide your time and do not attack.” Patience he means, don’t blow up everything all at once. Hold a little something back to knock your opponent, otherwise known as the love of your life, on their ass when they least expect it. Heaven knows you’ve been texting Sally from accounting a few more times than professionally necessary. And when the heated discussion about your possible but probably non-business use of “Miss you, see you Monday!” comes up? That’s the time to drag Mike and his five daily emails into the open. Fight fire with fire they say.
Sun-Tzu not only recommends holding something back in the arguing department, his Art of War emphasizes the importance of having reserves. Alternates, backups, troops to save the day. Never show off your entire repertoire and always tuck something up your sleeve. The general who throws his entire army into battle has no surprises left to spring.
Of course, there are nice surprises and not-so-nice surprises. Bringing her flowers when you’ve declared yourself a diligent non-romantic? Good surprise. Bringing her flowers because you’ve just lost rent at the casino? Bad surprise. Showing up uninvited when she’s out with just her friends? Surprise!
In a related lesson, it’s always better to not be too predictable. Or to let a girl know everything about you. As a Sun-Tzu admirer by the name of Napoleon Bonaparte once said, “You must not fight too often with one enemy, or you will teach him all your art of war.” Don’t be an open book. Be opaque, be difficult to grasp, be mysterious. Women love a good mystery. Nancy Drew, Agatha Christie, Angela Lansbury...and Velma from Scooby Doo, all shining examples of the female’s superior observational powers. It takes three times as much effort to hide something from a woman’s omniscient glare than from any male’s stupefied gaze.
Boys are also, by their very nature, entirely ill equipped to think of themselves as less clever than anybody else. Girls, by their sugar and Spice Girl empowered nature, know that boys aren’t nearly half as smart as they think they are. But boys can use that imbalance to their advantage. When faced with a difficult question, act confused; Sun-Tzu would call this allowing your enemy to underestimate you.
For example: “Did you love her as much as you love me?” “I don’t think I knew what true love was back then, so I can’t say.”
“Do you think she’s attractive?” “In what way?”
Deny, deceive, play dumb, and then run. A good warrior knows when to retreat. Sun-Tzu, Chapter Four, page ninety-six.
What Sun-Tzu counsels above all else, however, is that the best victory is one achieved without fighting. The general who accomplishes his goals without violence is the one to be admired. I understand and agree wholeheartedly. My man Sun is talking about passive aggressiveness isn’t he? To fight without fighting, right? Let water destroy rock, hugs instead of slugs, and rainbows before elbows.
In learning to turn the other cheek, it’s obvious that nothing infuriates a girl more than when you aren’t infuriated. So when she says: “Oh honey I’m sooo sorry I was talking to Justin all night, did you mind? It’s just we haven’t seen each other since, like, forever.”
Don't react. Intergalactic wars have been started for far less, I know. But don’t shrug her hand off your arm. Don’t grimace. Don’t even raise an eyebrow. The proper response, the art of relationship war response, is to shrug your shoulders and let it go -- for now. Cool off for a few weeks, wait for her guard to be down, and then fling the dagger.
“Oh honey, Sarah and I are going to get dinner and some drinks. I haven’t seen her since we broke up. She kind of wants to hang out alone. You don’t mind do you? It’s just we haven’t seen each other since, like, forever...” Be sure to imitate her exact wording and cadence. Practice beforehand if you have to. Borrow a mirror, buy a recorder, something.
The sudden similarity will hammer home your point, while having the dual advantage of reminding her that you were perfectly calm and collected when she transgressed, so she can’t say anything. She has to let you go. Make sure to dress up extra nice, exit with a big kiss, and thank her for being “so understanding.” Bonus points for leaving your phone behind in a place she’ll notice as soon as you leave.
Let’s see if she talks to Justin ever again.
Sun-Tzu, freaking genius right?
By committing to his thirteen simple lessons (like I have) you might strategically lose a few battles here and there, but trust me, you will never lose the war.
A How-to
Pat Benatar, with her feline eyes and massive collection of spandex onesies, told us a long time ago, “Love is a Battlefield.” She sonically declared there would be no promises, no demands, and only love as war. The video for her song featured choreographed dancers doing moves that would now be relegated to the six o’clock aerobic hip hop class. But back then, as Pat shoulder shimmied a sleazeball off the dance floor and right out of her life, I knew that what she had to say was forever true: Love was a battlefield.
It makes so much sense doesn’t it? Love as war? A person’s heart has to be defended at all costs. Battles waged in the name of love have to be as fierce as those waged for independence. Fiercer even. Cast aside family ties and fight, like brother versus brother at Gettysburg. Overcome invincible odds like the heroic 300 did at Thermopylae. Charge epically, romantically, suicidally, into battle like the Light Brigade. That’s how fiercely you have to fight for love. As Wesley from the Princess Bride tells us, the fight is always “to the pain!”
So, when engaged in ultimate battle, with no recourse but the utter destruction of your enemy, who to turn to for advice but the Chinese?
Sun-Tzu, he of the super styling fu manchu, laid down thirteen steps for success in any war-like endeavor. He started with Laying of the Plans (”Get a girlfriend”), asked for a definition of success (”Got a girlfriend”), and then wound through Plans for Attacking, Positioning, and Deceiving (”Keeping a girlfriend”). His last two chapters, the ones covering the proper use of fire and spies, were tactical masterpieces -- and my personal favorites -- so I’ll highlight a few things from there.
Who, when given the opportunity, hasn’t looked at their significant other’s email? Just a quick peek your heart says, while your brain is helplessly muttering, “Don’t do it! Respect her privacy!” That rational brain is soon screaming, “Who the fuck is this Mike character and why is he emailing her five times a day?” A bullet, imagined or not, is tearing through layers of your skin, your bone, your cartilage, fat, tendons and trust. The gaping hole left behind is waiting for some answers. You need some truth.
But (!), don't confront her, because then she’ll know you’ve been spying. Answers can be far more easily attained through a quick Google search. I highly recommend using quotes around the first and last name for more accurate results. It just works better.
Spying, or the gathering of intelligence, is usually counter intelligent. But being stupid can sometimes be really smart. You knew by opening Pamela’s inbox, that nothing positive could conceivably come flooding out. It would have been better to slide your mouse over to the “Sign Off” button and be done with it. But love is war, and knowing is half the battle. So I -- I mean, you -- read on, and maybe copy-paste some incriminating phrases. Maybe forward a line or two along to your friends for analysis. Then maybe send the whole thing when they ask for “more context.” All fuel for fiery retribution.
In his chapter dealing with fire, Sun-Tzu recommends waiting until the perfect moment to unleash vengeful fury. “If there is an outbreak of fire, but the enemy’s soldiers remain quiet, bide your time and do not attack.” Patience he means, don’t blow up everything all at once. Hold a little something back to knock your opponent, otherwise known as the love of your life, on their ass when they least expect it. Heaven knows you’ve been texting Sally from accounting a few more times than professionally necessary. And when the heated discussion about your possible but probably non-business use of “Miss you, see you Monday!” comes up? That’s the time to drag Mike and his five daily emails into the open. Fight fire with fire they say.
Sun-Tzu not only recommends holding something back in the arguing department, his Art of War emphasizes the importance of having reserves. Alternates, backups, troops to save the day. Never show off your entire repertoire and always tuck something up your sleeve. The general who throws his entire army into battle has no surprises left to spring.
Of course, there are nice surprises and not-so-nice surprises. Bringing her flowers when you’ve declared yourself a diligent non-romantic? Good surprise. Bringing her flowers because you’ve just lost rent at the casino? Bad surprise. Showing up uninvited when she’s out with just her friends? Surprise!
In a related lesson, it’s always better to not be too predictable. Or to let a girl know everything about you. As a Sun-Tzu admirer by the name of Napoleon Bonaparte once said, “You must not fight too often with one enemy, or you will teach him all your art of war.” Don’t be an open book. Be opaque, be difficult to grasp, be mysterious. Women love a good mystery. Nancy Drew, Agatha Christie, Angela Lansbury...and Velma from Scooby Doo, all shining examples of the female’s superior observational powers. It takes three times as much effort to hide something from a woman’s omniscient glare than from any male’s stupefied gaze.
Boys are also, by their very nature, entirely ill equipped to think of themselves as less clever than anybody else. Girls, by their sugar and Spice Girl empowered nature, know that boys aren’t nearly half as smart as they think they are. But boys can use that imbalance to their advantage. When faced with a difficult question, act confused; Sun-Tzu would call this allowing your enemy to underestimate you.
For example: “Did you love her as much as you love me?” “I don’t think I knew what true love was back then, so I can’t say.”
“Do you think she’s attractive?” “In what way?”
Deny, deceive, play dumb, and then run. A good warrior knows when to retreat. Sun-Tzu, Chapter Four, page ninety-six.
What Sun-Tzu counsels above all else, however, is that the best victory is one achieved without fighting. The general who accomplishes his goals without violence is the one to be admired. I understand and agree wholeheartedly. My man Sun is talking about passive aggressiveness isn’t he? To fight without fighting, right? Let water destroy rock, hugs instead of slugs, and rainbows before elbows.
In learning to turn the other cheek, it’s obvious that nothing infuriates a girl more than when you aren’t infuriated. So when she says: “Oh honey I’m sooo sorry I was talking to Justin all night, did you mind? It’s just we haven’t seen each other since, like, forever.”
Don't react. Intergalactic wars have been started for far less, I know. But don’t shrug her hand off your arm. Don’t grimace. Don’t even raise an eyebrow. The proper response, the art of relationship war response, is to shrug your shoulders and let it go -- for now. Cool off for a few weeks, wait for her guard to be down, and then fling the dagger.
“Oh honey, Sarah and I are going to get dinner and some drinks. I haven’t seen her since we broke up. She kind of wants to hang out alone. You don’t mind do you? It’s just we haven’t seen each other since, like, forever...” Be sure to imitate her exact wording and cadence. Practice beforehand if you have to. Borrow a mirror, buy a recorder, something.
The sudden similarity will hammer home your point, while having the dual advantage of reminding her that you were perfectly calm and collected when she transgressed, so she can’t say anything. She has to let you go. Make sure to dress up extra nice, exit with a big kiss, and thank her for being “so understanding.” Bonus points for leaving your phone behind in a place she’ll notice as soon as you leave.
Let’s see if she talks to Justin ever again.
Sun-Tzu, freaking genius right?
By committing to his thirteen simple lessons (like I have) you might strategically lose a few battles here and there, but trust me, you will never lose the war.
