I am a hot commodity.

Recent events (namely, everyone on the face of the earth becoming engaged) have led me to reconsider a topic we discussed in my Law & Economics class a few years ago. At the time, I was 23 and in a relationship, so it didn’t really concern me. Now that I have reached—and passed—the ripe old age of 25.3, I am an old maid, according to the census bureau. However, if you consider the dating pool from a market analysis perspective, I am becoming more and more valuable—until I reach my early 30s, when approximately ten percent of people my age will be getting divorced. In summary, my stock value is rising, and will continue to do so for several more years, at which point the supply of potential husbands will increase again, and I can (hopefully) save myself the emotional and monetary pain of that early-30s divorce.

At least, this is what I tell myself at all of these weddings.

I drew a beautiful graph to illustrate this, but unfortunately I am scannerless. However, this sums it up nicely.

Bumblebees

Occasionally, my grandma sends me one of those spam emails with the cheesy Jesus anecdotes, including the one about how mathematically, bumblebees should be unable to fly—but they can, and therefore God exists. First of all, this is dumb because math is obviously sophisticated enough to handle bumblebee flight. See http://www.straightdope.com/classics/a5_045.html for more info. Also, the scientific information in spam email is about as correct as actual spam is nutritious. What bothers me more, however, is the implication that if we can’t explain something, God exists. I’m not claiming that God or your deity of choice does or does not exist; I’m only commenting on the intellectual laziness required to skip directly from “I cannot explain this” to “therefore it must be Jesus.” I see the theoretical bumblebee scenario not as a triumph of faith, but as a scientific shortcoming. Fortunately there have been enough people throughout history who are uncomfortable with making such a leap in logic, who have taken the time to figure this shit out for the rest of us.

On the other hand, despite the negative connotation of the term “shortcoming,” I’m glad science has them. After all, who wants to know everything? The anticipation before unwrapping a present is often better than the moment after you’ve opened it and found another frumpy-ass reindeer sweater. The point is that the fact that you don't know what's in the box doesn't mean God put it there.

My cousin, Mrs. Khan

My cousin is engaged.
To a man.
Who calls himself Genghis.

Except he doesn’t spell it “Genghis.” However, if I were to carelessly toss his preferred spelling out here on the internets, I would be accepting the risk that some innocent Googler, in his or her search for my cousin and/or her favorite misspelled Mongol, would find my blog, thereby causing a Harriet the Spy­­-esque debacle resulting in full-on black sheep status. It’s not unlikely, either, because if you happen to Google his name, every result is related to him. I’m pretty sure this is because most people who decide to name themselves after their favorite conquerors use spell check before creating their Everquest profiles.

There are many other wonderful factoids I could divulge about Genghis and his mysterious relationship with my cousin. For example, he is 35 and she is approximately 20, and they’re in the same college class. I could also mention that he doesn’t have a driver’s license for some unknown reason, despite living in an area where driving is crucial. But really, I think the whole situation is best summed up by referring to the third sentence (fragment) of this post.

To be fair, based on the information I have gleaned via research (while determining the likelihood I would be found out if I used his real name) he seems like a decent guy, and he seems to genuinely care about my cousin. I haven’t met him yet, but I’m sure I’ll have the honor at their wedding, if nobody discovers this post.

But really, “Genghis?” Are they going to name their first-born child Attila?

Welcome.

I suppose the assertion that truth is stranger than fiction is the reason blogging has been so successful in the first place. However, I intend to take it a step further. I hope that you will enjoy my posts not only for their literal content, but also on a metaphysical level. I hope you'll pause for a second and think to yourself, "wow. Real life is fucking weird/hilarious/depressing/adjective of your choice/all of the above at the same time." With 6 billion different versions of reality, who needs fiction?

My goal is to present the best reality has to offer, from math and science to workplace drama. Sort of like “The Soup,” but with less Tyra Banks (because I refuse to believe she’s real). Enjoy.