socialology

1. Are Bernie Sanders

2. Create “Love Trumps Hate” FB event

3. Share political articles publicly

4. Leave open-ended discussion comments on friends’ above-mentioned articles 

5. Leave flat comments on articles, e.g. “Yes!!!”

6. React to or publicly tag friends in the comments of articles

7. Share articles with friends via private message

8. Share memes

9. React to or publicly tag friends in the comments of memes

10. Share memes with friends via private message

11. Recognize that Facebook is an echo chamber and stop using the site as your sole source and distributor of ideas

Emaan and I are currently working on a fun project, but here is something I never finished before we post that. Get excited! Inspired by Alison Zeidman’s article here: http://www.nytimes.com/2015/10/18/opinion/sunday/actually-weve-already-met.html?_r=0. And the hairless twin of my submission piece that ended up being published here: http://dailybruin.com/2016/02/11/submission-college-crushes-soulmates-and-paul-rudd/.

I didn’t really worry about the entire “being single” thing, until my aunt said to me in the car one day that she and my uncle would accept anyone I loved. Why? Has that been brought up in the family? Did my mom say that? What did Grandma say? Well, I’m straight. Yes, really. No, I’m not hiding anything. Yes, I do have friends that are guys. I mean, has Malala even dated anyone? It’s not not that different—She’s 18? Oh.

Well, I still don’t think it’s that weird that I haven’t dated anyone at the age of 20. Plenty of my friends have been single their entire lives too! Although Robert just finally made something happen with that guy, and there’s Sam now too. And Betty. Regardless, they just tipped the scale to an even 50/50 right now.

Of course I’ve liked guys! Yes, I told them! I think they liked me back. What happened? Well, what always happens… Life. Ha-ha! Did you catch that? That was a quote from 500 Days of Summer. Good movie. I loved that it was set right here in Los Angeles. I wonder where that bench—Oh, sorry, sorry. Well… Something always happened that things didn’t work out.

Nah, it’s whatever now. None of them were ever really serious, and we’re still good friends. So, what’s the normal age to have your first boyfriend anyway? 16? 14? No way.  I guess I am a little behind. Maybe it’s a cultural thing. It’s most probably a cultural thing. My parents? They were high school sweethearts.. Are you seeing anybody? Is it serious? Oh, alright.

I mean, I’ve gone on dates and what-felt-like dates. I’ve felt awkward spending time with someone that I’ve primarily only talked through text before, had online conversations that ended when one person fell asleep and continued when the other person woke up, become mutual #1 best friends with someone on Snapchat. I’ve experienced almost all the rituals of our generation’s dating scene—except actual dating. Is it really that weird?

But hear me out—everything just sounds so confusing and complicated nowadays. My old coworker spent an entire shift explaining her “situationship” with a guy once. Can someone explain to me what a Tindr date is? When do people “DTR”? (I just found out what that meant recently.) And I thought the bases were already hard to pin down. Just seems like a mess, if you ask me.

safari

noun

an expedition to observe a person of potential romantic interest (potential to be confirmed or denied depending on outcome of safari) without the financial and social commitment or emotional pressure of a typical date: I think Jenna is taking me on a safari today. We’ve never had a real conversation nor spent time alone with each other, but she asked to get Jamba after class today to ‘celebrate the end of midterms.’

synonyms: hangout, watching Aziz Ansari’s new show on Netflix, down to kick it, random Facebook event that both parties have responded “Going” or “Interested”

Luis’ eyes were half-closed and repeatedly went through the motions of drifting away from matching my gaze to quickly darting back. They were like children playing in a yard being reminded by the caregiver to not stray so far. The cycle was a result of the combination of his drunken state and his apprehension in what he told me next: “I’m just scared of, I don’t know, disappearing, I guess.”

Luis had just ended an almost two-year relationship with someone he had once thought was “The One.” But my friend Luis had been the one to break up with the girl because those feelings had long dissipated. And at this point after the break-up, Luis was still trying to stay friends with his ex-girlfriend, since they shared many of the same friends and were involved in the same activities. But to his frustration, the girl was making it difficult.

My friend’s fears reminded me of my own sister’s distress when she and her 8-month-long lover (he didn’t go by “boyfriend”) broke up. During one of her multiple phone calls, she told me through her tears how she couldn’t grasp how she and the guy would never meet again, after being so intimate and her seeing a future with him, like two straight intersecting lines on a plot. She said, “It’s like he’s dead.”

Disappearing and death are practically synonymous. And it’s obviously a universal fear among humans. We’re scared of ceasing to exist because it goes against our every instinct for survival and, for many of us, exposes us to the terrifying unknown of what comes after. Each break-up or ending to any relationship is a version of death because one’s presence is reduced or gone forever in someone else’s life. Memories may live on, but like in death, one can’t return to the original state.  

I got my first job this past summer, and I thought it was appropriate to reflect on my short time as a sales associate. My last day is next Wednesday. 

1. Most people are not judgmental. I used to think people were constantly judging other people, but I’m beginning to realize that my hometown is an exception from the norm. Coming from a relatively sheltered and privileged city, I was very pleasantly surprised to learn that most people don’t care what you do because they’re too busy with their own shit in their lives or they’ve seen worse. (My coworkers are fantastic people.)

2. Kids are growing up way too fast these days. A fifteen year old girl (FIFTEEN) came into the store once to buy a body suit for her sweet sixteen. She bought a very skimpy one. (I’m being judgmental.)

3. Four out of 10 people leave their clothes on the ground in the dressing room, inside-out and rolled-up from being peeled off their bodies,  and I just do not understand why they don’t respect other people.

4. If you think someone should get the larger size between two options, for any reason at all, say “You’ve got boobs, girl.” You can also opt for “a butt” instead of “boobs.”

5. Working in a retail is a trap for the inexperienced because I spent most of my earnings on clothes at that store because of the generous employee discount.

6. People love sharing things about themselves, most of the time. I learned this from both my coworkers and customers. Just ask one question, and they’ll go on and on. It’s great for the average socialologist. 

7. Almost everyone working in low-level positions are trying to get somewhere else, somewhere better. They don’t want to be folding and selling clothes forever. That’s pretty obvious when you think about it, but I never thought about it before. 

8. A lot of people buy clothes just to feel a little better that day. 

9. I’ve known this for a while, but the easiest and fastest way to get close to your fellow female (and sometimes, male) colleagues is to talk about love life. 

10. The most aggressive, impatient shoppers are white women between the ages of 45 and 55. 

11. The range of physical self-confidence is so wide-- from guys who go into fitting rooms to try on hoodies to women who show me their tattoos between their breasts. 

idku but probs ily2 B)

First off, apologies for not writing anything in a very long time. Things were happening. But I’m going to write something quick and rough because I want to keep this blog going. So this will just be a post about my appreciation for writing. Not very socialology-related. 

I’m impressed by few, very specific things, and one of those things is good, eyes-widen, feel-a-flutter-in-my-chest-and-a-spark-in-my-brain, screenshot-worthy, think-about-it-for-weeks-after writing. (And this blog is partly due to my attempts at making sure my writing muscle doesn’t wither and die.)

As someone who leans more toward math and science, I think, I may not be a trustworthy judge of good writing. But I’ll call someone a good writer if his words make me want to rush to the next sentence, but I consciously force myself to slow down to let every word sink in. Someone is a good writer if I read a phrase over and over again, and that phrase makes me feel like shit because my writing skill is nowhere near that. But at the same time, that shitty feeling makes me sit silently for at least a moment to make me think about my own shit, thinking “that’s exactly right.” 

Writing is an art, and being a good artist means the gap between what the writer envisioned in his head and what I read on paper is virtually nonexistent (which, if you’ve ever tried to draw something original, is very, very hard). I imagine a good writer feels vulnerable when he writes because he has to share a little bit of his unexposed self for readers to feel the same way. A good writer probably can meditate for a long time because he has the mental discipline to keep his thoughts focused and organized and composed and intelligible. Because that’s hard to do. Someone who is good at writing doesn’t choose the “easier” word; he finds the right word. A good writer can communicate precisely and effectively, which is ultimately, I think, the goal. 

As both new and old readers of socialology know, bazareno is very keen on social theories (or, as I was once called, "neurotic"). To mix it up a little, here are a few social rules that are (on the most part) NOT relationship-related that I've developed that can possibly, maybe, perhaps be agreed with.

Girls who skateboard must own at least one pair of Converse Chuck Taylor sneakers. And they better be hella beat-up. 

If a girl tells you "rightbackatcha" when you give her a compliment, she is probably not interested or even annoyed. Tread carefully.

You can tell a lot about a person by how they sneeze. And penmanship. Facebook and Instagram captions. And television shows. (Will be expanded upon in a future article).

Only children are really good listeners and are fun to hang with because they know how to entertain themselves.

Picking up each other's mannerisms is a sign of a good friendship, or at the very least, some respect.

If you played Neopets as a kid, probably most (if not, all) your friends played Neopets too. 

In a recent study, it was discovered that women with mothers are 120% more likely to express love in a manner opposite to their mothers than women without mothers.

For example, Megan Mae Navarro Nazareno's mother, Mama Naz, frequently showers Nasty Naz in love in the form of sentimental gifts and letters, such as her annual chocolate heart box delivery on Valentine's Day. As a result, Megan is unable to express affection and cringes in response to luv, hugz, and wordy expressions of afexshun. 

"I mean, personally, I think I'm pretty affectionate. I called someone 'da rl MVP' today!," Nasty Naz said.

On the contrary, daughter Baqai once told her mother "I love you" at the tender age of five, and in response her mother laughed. In general, Mama Baq is not the initiator of hugz, luv, or expressions of afexshun. For example:

Alternatively, daughter Baqai overcompensates frequently administers incapacitating bear hugs, fluffy sentimental birthday cards, and excessive "ILY"s. 

What is the cause of this phenomenon? Studies have proven that this pattern correlates with the Parental Compensatory Theorem. The theory states that in order to overcompensate for lack of desired affection from the maternal figure in one's life, a female child will seek luv in the form of hugz from outside figures. Alternatively, a child who feels "smothered" will refrain from said affection. This creates a self-perpetuated alternating cycle of luv and "Lol no, that's weird" between the generations, as exemplified by Nasty Naz and E-Breezy's personal scenarios.

Mama Baq was busy showering her plants with the love she could not give her daughter, and thus could not be reached for commentary. E-Baq denied the relevance of the theory.

talk-to-text ratio |tôk tō tekst 'rāSēõ|

noun

the ratio between the amount two individuals have spoken in real life and the amount they have spoken through a virtual medium, including Facebook, text, and Snapchat: Dude, I think I'm going to invite him to a meal since I'm uncomfortable with how low our talk-to-text ratio is.

Megan "Megsie-Wegsies" Nazareno and Emaan "H." Baqai's cover of "You & I" by Ingrid Michaelson! (??)

swipe blindness |swīp blīndnes|

noun

the instance in which the to-go food container in your hands suddenly becomes so interesting when you see someone who lives in the dorm building that you want to enter (but can't, since you don't live there) approaching

the state of pretending to be invisible and able to squeeze in through the door before it closes, without acknowledging the  presence of the individual who just swiped you into the building: That kid has a horrid case of swipe blindness. He just stood there, facing the doors and looking at his phone, while I spent a considerable amount of time putting down the packages and food and digging through my backpack for my key.

Two girls gushing over a gold bar crush.

Crushes are… crushing. (Ha, ha, this one was so lame and easy that you thought no one would actually go for it). But seriously. They pummel your guts and brains until both are a figurative pulp and you have to lie down to recover. But crushing to the point of immobility is only in the most extreme case. Crushes span a wide spectrum of not-completely-sincere affection, which I will now attempt to cover.

Baby crushes (or puppy crushes) are your harmless, adorable, completely platonic subjects of affection. You feel a maternal (Is paternal possible? I’ll have to ask male friends.) instinct inside whenever this person is near, and you would pinch his/her cheeks whenever you saw him/her if you were one for close contact or intimacy or whatever. Others call baby crushing by yet another name: “friend-zoning.”

Brain crushes are very common among TAs, especially in your math and physics classes. You figuratively literally want to fuck their brain. All these subtle Star Trek references?? You wish you watched the Star Trek episodes, not just the Zachary Quinto movies. Their bad delivery of jokes?? Man, it’s like talking to your dad (See “Oedipus Crush.” Jk, I did not include that… Or maybe I should). Brain crushes can be anyone who you admire for his/her intellect, humor, and other mental processes, but for some reason or another, you are not physically attracted to this person.

That cool chick who you always steal glances at in your chemistry class or whenever you spot them randomly around campus is your Girl Crush (or Bro Crush). You’re straight, but you would be open to, I don’t know, doing some stuff if you were really drunk or something. Jokes aside ( (    ͡°   ͜ʖ   ͡° ) ), you would love to be this person’s friend because all the external clues suggest that the two of you would get along, but you’re just waiting for the best opportunity… Maybe she’ll recognize the song you’re humming on the way to class (“The Top 10 Non-Sexual Fantasies you’ve had while Walking to Class” should be my next post).

Friend crushes are kids who you’ve just met recently and are at the peak of fondness. You’re honestly so giddy that you’ve met someone whom you’ve clicked with and have someone new to tell your recycled stories and jokes to. Friend crushes follow the Expiration Theory and, sadly, are usually Quarter Friends, as described in “Hierarchy of Acquaintanceship.” 

And now, to the meatiest and paralyzing part of crushes,   r o m a n t i c   c r u s h e s   are the most horribly fantastic thing.

Gold bar crushes are named so because of a conversation I’ve had with a friend—a reference you will never know unless you ask me about it in person. Anyways, gold bars are 99% lust-driven and 1% natural selection-driven. Or are those the same thing… But you just think this kid looks ridiculously good and you would like to pass on his genes if you were in that point in your life right now. Casual evolutionary processes. The prime situation would be actually having a mutually shared physical attraction. The prime-est situation would be also having a non-physical connection.

The offspring of a brain crush and a friend crush would be a subject of your luv. You definitely are really good friends, and currently, you’re not so physically attracted to this person, but you can maybe see a future if nothing comes of your gold bar (girls are heartless bitches).

What a surprise! Nothing has happened with the gold bar. He ended up being pyrite. So, by way of either your luv evolving or an arrival of a new character in the arena, lushes are the bittersweet spot in the range of romantic crushing. A physical and mental connection has been established! Congratulations! Now, you will review texts, Facebook messages, and Snapchats for at least 5 minutes before pressing “Send.” You’ll read really deeply into your guys’ direct and indirect interactions.  You will imagine all the different ways you could happen to meet this person and prepare how you’ll act when you actually meet your lush so he’ll fall in lush with you in those 8 seconds of passing. You will constantly remind yourself not to overthink but fall into the same routine anyway. Lushes are the Sistine Chapel of the serial crusher*.

By definition, this is where the list of crushes end. Anything more would enter the realm of something a little more substantial and sincere than this blog covers.  

JK, but we collaborated on an article (Megsies took the picture and I wrote the [[poorly written]] article)