Do not go on blind dates.

I got set up on a blind date, the other night.

I cannot stress enough how horrendous it was. He was an absolute creature. The way he spoke about other people, the way he talked about himself, the way he dismissed everything he didn’t understand as ridiculous and worthless, it all made me want to throw him out of a window.

Perhaps the most disgusting thing that came out of his mouth was on the subject of love, sex and marriage. In his opinion, girls should always be dressed up and gorgeous. They must always be flirty and seductive. There should never be a time when she is not reciprocating his romance and giving him her full attention.

Are you fucking kidding me?

You mother fucker.

It is not your decision how I express my emotions. You are not king of all the land, and I have no obligation to make you horny 24/7.

He’s about to take his dentistry license exam. Apparently, that makes him special and awesome and a treat that everyone should be grateful for.

No, we are not grateful for you.

So I did what any logical person would do and told him upfront about my diabetes. He made this weird face and was really awkward the rest of the time we were together. He hasn’t called me since.

Never another blind date. Ever.

Sometimes something seemingly sweet slightly sucks

Despite their constant existence in human life, how few people understand the common nightmare, and even fewer still have nary a notion as to what it means to become one. Of those people who don’t fear them, they don’t believe that they’re real. Simply put, they are fantasies; figments of our at times wild imaginations personifying fears that we harbor and shy away from, which disappear when the eyes are no longer closed—and this is true. It is indeed true that nightmares dissolve into nothing the moment we wake, but this is only one piece of the enigmatic phenomena that we have accepted as part of our daily lives. It is not until one finds himself less peaceful in his waking hours than in his sleep that he begins to lose ability to discern reality from hallucination.

As for myself, I am two people who live the same reality; My current self, working in a United Nations newsroom, and the self I hope to be one day: a writer.

Unwise attempts at wisdom aside, I work at the UN building in NYC for an Arabic News Channel, now. It’s cool, but it’s just not at all for me. I don’t want to be in TV production. It’s not what I got into Journalism for.

It’s kind of awesome, being behind the scenes for a bit, just seeing how all the “magic” happens, but it’s so…banal?

It’s also very proper. I hate that. One of the reasons I’ve always liked being in JRN newsrooms is how loose people are. Everyone is worried about getting the paper out, not the obnoxiously pretentious matters of talking with complete eloquence and perfect composure at all times.

A little tiny word of advice: Stop taking life so seriously. You can be professional without being uptight.

And to be honest, I’m so incredibly tired of working for Arabs. I appreciate the opportunity like hell, and the people are really nice, but I don’t really fit in. I’m not allowed to talk to any of the other news stations on our floor. Fox and NPR are right next door, but it’s against the channel rules for trainees to “network.”

There’s also a crap ton of typing that we do. All of the UN council meetings, we transcribe, and I’m not fast enough to keep up.

That also brings me to the question of why we type that shit. We already record it, and we don’t even use those recordings ever again. They keep telling me to get my typing speed up, and I’m really trying, but I just wish I could ask why they trouble themselves.

We transcribed a five-hour UN meeting. Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

I don’t get it at all, but no way in hell am I complaining. I am so thankful for the opportunity, but my lifelong dream is print. Writing. I’d do almost anything for a newspaper job, right now. I could be writing tiny little sentences and I’d still be happy.

I really just want to walk up to my boss and tell him–very, very nicely–that maybe he should take a break from all the proper and just take a chill pill.

But that’s not how Arabs roll.

And speaking Arabic doesn’t make you an Arab, I guess.

I’m clearly missing something.

So in summation, I just have but three things to say:

Be Professional. Be Passionate.

But for the love of god, do NOT be Pretentious.

A Man’s Guide to Understanding Women

A good friend of mine came to talk to me about problems he was having with his girlfriend. He asked me a bunch of questions about women, and I tried to answer. I really tried.

Q: She texted me asking how many girls I’ve been with. When I gave her my answer, she ignored me. Why?
A: I don’t know.

Q: Why does she always bring up things from the past that we’re supposed to be over that she forgave me for?
A: I guess she didn’t forgive you?

Q: Why is it that when I’m out with my friends and don’t call her at all, she gets upset?
A: I don’t know.

Q: She accused me of always just wanting sex, and I said no. Now she’s acting weird. I thought “no” was the right answer?
A: Women want sex just as much as men do, so I don’t know.

Q: She wants me to always pick up the check and do all this stuff for her without expecting a thank you, but gets really bitchy if I ask her for things and don’t give her a poem about how thankful I am. Just because I’m a man doesn’t mean she has to do things for me, she says.
A: That’s true, but just because she’s a woman doesn’t mean you have to do things for her, either.

Q: She told me she wants this new blender that’s kind of expensive. I got it for her for Christmas. She got mad. Why?
A: I guess you shouldn’t give a girl a household item as a holiday gift?

Q: But why did she say she wanted it if she didn’t want it?
A: I don’t know.

Q: She talks to her ex from time to time, but flipped out when she saw a “Merry Xmas” text from my ex on my phone. She says it’s different. How?
A: I don’t know.

Q: I hung out with my sister and her friend without telling her. Now she won’t talk to me because I was around another girl and she had to find out from someone else.
A: Time for a new girlfriend, Adam.

I’m not sure anything I said was helpful at all. I obviously don’t understand women very well.

I think I might be a gay guy in a straight woman’s body.

Meeting a “Mate” Means Making More Mistakes

Has anyone tried online dating? It’s kind of awkward and creepy to me, but my cousin pressured me into trying it. I feel like I’m going to end up meeting 169384 guys who say that they’re something that they’re not, and I will end up with some guy who milks cows for a living and calls himself a vet.

Am I nervous for no reason? I’m not really into getting into a “real” relationship, but my parents are hugely on my back. My mom is dying to see me in some type of long-term relationship. She says I am only refusing out of fear.

No, actually, it’s dislike, nay, complete contempt, for the idea of marrying/being with someone until death do us part. Mating with one creature forever is like getting life in prison. Same face every day. Same conversation. Same need of the other person to find emotional connections that I do not even have.

I refuse to get into an arranged marriage. It’s just not for me. It’s too medieval and primitive.

So, what’s an Arab girl to do?