I was going through the numbers in my cell phone this morning, not really looking for any one in particular, just kind of intrigued with myself on how rarely I do this. If you know me fairly well you will attest that I am HORRIBLE at calling anyone. I'm blessed to have friends that check up on me regularly because if by some awesome fate I should be electrocuted by my juicer, my poor corpse would be left undiscovered for quite some time. So anywho, flipping through my numbers I was puzzled by how many nameless phone numbers I have. I counted 7 anonymous people who somehow made their way into my phonebook. The most obvious explanation for most of these is a night filled with mixed drinks and flirting, resulting in sloppy digits exchange. If you're not aware, the common practice of phone number exchange between two drunk people is handing your own phone to the other person, dialing your digits on their phone, calling it then hanging up, thus saving each others digits in the other persons phone. It's a simple and almost intimate moment between two cheeky drunks who instantly bond after trusting each other with each others phone ("OMFG, we have the same phone only mine is bedazzled in jeweeels OMIGOD we're meant to be, dude!!")
The only problem with this practice is that when you go back later that night to check on the phone number you realize.. you have completely forgotten what this persons name is. All you have is an "unknown caller" in your ID. I know, it's terrible. It happens. After you shared such a magical moment giggling into each others phone too. Such tragic occasions have left me to resort to substituting for their name anything that remotely reminds me of this person, in case I happen to remember their real name at a later, sober time. This will explain why one mysterious number was casually saved as "OMG BOOBS". I know, how sexist and shameful of me, but worst yet that can be anyone within the local San Diego beach community. That mystery girl, who's bosoms must have been of such epic proportions to have elicited such an endearing response from me like -OMG BOOBS-, as much as it shattered my soul to do it, was promptly deleted from my phone today.
Which finally leads me to the one mystery number who I gave a split second thought to before deleting. I actually remember meeting this girl. It was this last New Years, Hollywood. She smelled of coconut and the ocean. Which at that moment had me completely and utterly intoxicated. I couldn't get enough of smelling her, of tasting her. Not that we did anything but kiss, but that was enough. We didn't talk much, I know nothing about her, we shared drinks and that's all. The clock counted down the last precious minutes of the year as she sat on my lap, laughing at my stupid jokes and as the last seconds ticked off the clock to midnight, she grabbed my face with both hands and proceeded to slobber all over my lips. Anti-climactic, I guess. She still tasted great. She was narly enough to go the trouble of actually saving her name and number in my celly phonebook afterwards, as opposed to just dialing it. But instead of entering her real name, she simply put "YOUR FUTURE WIFE". Awwww. Cute. Or psycho-ish, depending on how jaded you are. So now, FINALLY, this brings me to my main point....
The midnight kiss phenomena.
Let's imagine: A social gathering, the mood is right, perhaps even against one's better judgement one has had a flute or two too many of the bubbly stuff (By the way, when will we as Americans learn that Champagne or any sparkling wine is good everyday, not just for New Years? Why do we insist on making Europe cooler than us?) and one is feeling just a tad frisky, less aware of their previously crippling inhibitions. This could also be affected by the mood of the evening. The ending of what was and the beginning of what we hope will be the better new. Such is the psychological pre-dispostion we have with the "New Year" as a period of rebirth and I feel it is best encapsulated, best expressed, by the midnight kiss.
This event is so colored by one's own subjective take on what actually is occurring that it is laughable, if not a bit perverse to give it half as much credit as people do. All of them, sincere as they may be, are working off the basis that 1. At the moment your lips lock you'll be the only two people on the planet. 2. The fact they have been chosen to be your midnight kiss grants them a mythic proportion in your life, for such is so important a choice, it must have been given great forethought. This mistake leads to 3. The kiss will set the entire romantic tone for the rest of the year. Get a great kiss then, surely you'll be getting more later.
The reality is that a midnight kiss has far more to do with random proximity and how much one had to drink that night then they have to do with anything else. Truth be told, I am a romantic, and I'd love to believe that a midnight kiss is the metaphysical barometer of my future passions. That the kissing gesture would serve as a talisman and keep my whole year as enthused and electric and wonderful as those few seconds after the clock strikes midnight, but my inner pessimist knows better. Which brings me back to my last midnight kiss. Sweet tasting mystery girl, self proclaimed bearer of my future children. After parting ways that night, I hardly gave her more than a half seconds thought to, until the guilt of leaving what could very well be my soul mate waiting by the phone finally convinced me to call her. After a few seconds of refreshing her memory to who the hell I was, which made it tougher considering I had no idea what her name was, ("Hi, we met at Teddy's last week, its Joey!" "...Who? Who are you calling for?" "Umm.. You?" I learned that she lives in Arizona and was only in LA visiting her sister. She when on to tell me she remembered me as being super adorable (pfft) and she had never been so shitfaced in her life. After a few more awkward minutes we said our goodbyes, and I never spoke to the girl again.
Do I have a point? If so, only this. The people you choose to make privy to romantically should already wish to make you happy, and shouldn't need to take part in such a spectacular stunt to ensure the feeling lasts. In other words, why look for fireworks in the sky, when you can seem them in her eyes? Have a midnight kiss with the right person all year long.
Then get sloppy drunk.
The only problem with this practice is that when you go back later that night to check on the phone number you realize.. you have completely forgotten what this persons name is. All you have is an "unknown caller" in your ID. I know, it's terrible. It happens. After you shared such a magical moment giggling into each others phone too. Such tragic occasions have left me to resort to substituting for their name anything that remotely reminds me of this person, in case I happen to remember their real name at a later, sober time. This will explain why one mysterious number was casually saved as "OMG BOOBS". I know, how sexist and shameful of me, but worst yet that can be anyone within the local San Diego beach community. That mystery girl, who's bosoms must have been of such epic proportions to have elicited such an endearing response from me like -OMG BOOBS-, as much as it shattered my soul to do it, was promptly deleted from my phone today.
Which finally leads me to the one mystery number who I gave a split second thought to before deleting. I actually remember meeting this girl. It was this last New Years, Hollywood. She smelled of coconut and the ocean. Which at that moment had me completely and utterly intoxicated. I couldn't get enough of smelling her, of tasting her. Not that we did anything but kiss, but that was enough. We didn't talk much, I know nothing about her, we shared drinks and that's all. The clock counted down the last precious minutes of the year as she sat on my lap, laughing at my stupid jokes and as the last seconds ticked off the clock to midnight, she grabbed my face with both hands and proceeded to slobber all over my lips. Anti-climactic, I guess. She still tasted great. She was narly enough to go the trouble of actually saving her name and number in my celly phonebook afterwards, as opposed to just dialing it. But instead of entering her real name, she simply put "YOUR FUTURE WIFE". Awwww. Cute. Or psycho-ish, depending on how jaded you are. So now, FINALLY, this brings me to my main point....
The midnight kiss phenomena.
Let's imagine: A social gathering, the mood is right, perhaps even against one's better judgement one has had a flute or two too many of the bubbly stuff (By the way, when will we as Americans learn that Champagne or any sparkling wine is good everyday, not just for New Years? Why do we insist on making Europe cooler than us?) and one is feeling just a tad frisky, less aware of their previously crippling inhibitions. This could also be affected by the mood of the evening. The ending of what was and the beginning of what we hope will be the better new. Such is the psychological pre-dispostion we have with the "New Year" as a period of rebirth and I feel it is best encapsulated, best expressed, by the midnight kiss.
This event is so colored by one's own subjective take on what actually is occurring that it is laughable, if not a bit perverse to give it half as much credit as people do. All of them, sincere as they may be, are working off the basis that 1. At the moment your lips lock you'll be the only two people on the planet. 2. The fact they have been chosen to be your midnight kiss grants them a mythic proportion in your life, for such is so important a choice, it must have been given great forethought. This mistake leads to 3. The kiss will set the entire romantic tone for the rest of the year. Get a great kiss then, surely you'll be getting more later.
The reality is that a midnight kiss has far more to do with random proximity and how much one had to drink that night then they have to do with anything else. Truth be told, I am a romantic, and I'd love to believe that a midnight kiss is the metaphysical barometer of my future passions. That the kissing gesture would serve as a talisman and keep my whole year as enthused and electric and wonderful as those few seconds after the clock strikes midnight, but my inner pessimist knows better. Which brings me back to my last midnight kiss. Sweet tasting mystery girl, self proclaimed bearer of my future children. After parting ways that night, I hardly gave her more than a half seconds thought to, until the guilt of leaving what could very well be my soul mate waiting by the phone finally convinced me to call her. After a few seconds of refreshing her memory to who the hell I was, which made it tougher considering I had no idea what her name was, ("Hi, we met at Teddy's last week, its Joey!" "...Who? Who are you calling for?" "Umm.. You?" I learned that she lives in Arizona and was only in LA visiting her sister. She when on to tell me she remembered me as being super adorable (pfft) and she had never been so shitfaced in her life. After a few more awkward minutes we said our goodbyes, and I never spoke to the girl again.
Do I have a point? If so, only this. The people you choose to make privy to romantically should already wish to make you happy, and shouldn't need to take part in such a spectacular stunt to ensure the feeling lasts. In other words, why look for fireworks in the sky, when you can seem them in her eyes? Have a midnight kiss with the right person all year long.
Then get sloppy drunk.
2 comments:
So, here's an idea...Whenever I input numbers in the cellular the text is defaulted to be in all caps, ALL caps in someone's name annoys me so I automatically change it so it looks proper ie: "Douchebag"not "DOUCHEBAG"...
But when i was drunk I would be too lazy to change the text to lowercase so if i ever went back to look at my phone and some mystery persons name was in all caps I automatically knew It was a drunk entry hence why I can't remember who they were so they go in the "call if incredibly desperate file" (ltmsq)
Marry me oh wise man make an honest woman out of me! hehe. Your awesome cutie, I loveed this entry. It made me smile. :)
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