First of all, that's bullshit …

In his last piece, Big Red's assessment of "The Real World" ladies was fair. I tend to agree this year's installment is by far the hottest female group we've had. Rebecca from Seattle was a solid choice on Red's part, but not my top Real Worlder of all time. That dubious distinction has to go to Julie, from the original cast.

There really isn't an obviously reason for my choice of Julie. Despite being from the South, I'm not a big fan of southern accents … which she had … a very DEEP one at that. Maybe it was her dancing. I remember the episode where she took that annoying Eric to her dance studio. You remember Eric, right? The guy that wouldn't LEAVE MTV after his stint on "The Real World" was done?!?!?! I mean, "The Grind"??? What a joke. Regardless, she had this cute, flirtatious presence about her … yet this little southern belle innocence. Yet you KNEW deep down, she had a side to her that she'd yet to show the world. Or maybe it was just she was the closest to my age, her being 18 at the time and dealing with people all several years older than she was. Whatever it was, MTV has Julie to thank for keeping me watching this mindless television … oh, except for the London season. That was so lame.

Speaking of mindless television, I'm going to talk about something I don't share with a lot of people. It isn't a problem, and I'm not in denial … but I do have an addiction. My addiction is … professional wrestling.

I never used to watch it when I was a kid. My friends had all the action figures, but I just never really watched … until around the time I was 11 or so. This was right around the time greats like Hulk Hogan and Ric Flair were at the top of their game. I watched for probably 2 years, and then lost interest. It wasn't until I was back in college that my addiction started.

It was like a ritual after fraternity chapter meetings … get out of those at 7, run and pick up food and be back at the house around 8 to watch Monday Night Nitro. Yeah, I was probably a bigger WCW fan than WWF for a long time. As the years have passed, I've just continued to watch … more times than not, putting wrestling before any other duties on Monday nights (so yeah, here's a hint about jaylowe … if you are doing something with me on a Monday night, you must really impress me).

So why is this a column today? Because I've realized that letting people know I watch wrestling is similar to letting them know I have some sort of disease. Is that fair? No, and I'll tell you why.

Wrestling is no different than any other programming on TV. There is a script, there are storylines, the performers have millions of viewers nightly and typically pull off solid shows. Wrestling is fake … obviously. I don't watch it cause I think it is real. I watch it because it makes me laugh. I watch it because I enjoy the story lines. I watch it because I enjoy rooting for the bad guy. I watch it because I work insane hours and it is just an outlet to let me sit and do nothing for a couple of hours.

Obviously it isn't for everyone. My roommate reminds me of this … constantly. That is why it is almost something strange to bring up with friends. You tell someone you watch wrestling, and they look at you funny. Like you've just told them you have a third nipple.

My buddy Alex is possibly the biggest wrestling enthusiast I know. Just yesterday we were discussing how one might bring up wrestling to a woman one might be dating. I told him I never really brought it up to women I date … that if they find out, they find out. I asked him what he thought, and he suggested I break it to them gently … that they might not be as receptive to it. I can understand. I mean, not everyone enjoys watching someone get hit in the head with a trashcan … or getting thrown through a table. So I felt Alex made a good point.

I suppose all this means is that wrestling is apart of me. Not like music, work and friends are a part of me … but it is one of those little idiosyncrasies that make up jaylowe. Much like my obsession with the Blue Jays or candy. But no need to worry ... I won't try any wrestling moves on you. Unless you hit me with a street sign ... then it's Pedigree time for you.

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First of all, that's bullshit …

marie: boys can be so clueless. little things can get big results. being nice really doesn't take that much effort
jay: no not really

Fellas … read that. Again.

Ok, now … read it again.

Now, that was an AOL IM exchange between my friend Marie and me. Granted, not many earth-shattering conversations take place over instant messenger, but Marie here is offering up a little "woman secret." In the spirit of Valentine's Day, I write this column.

No, no, no … it is not going to be some mushy column about love. This is more about how women and men interact … in my opinion. Little things … women tell men, that even the little things count. Is that always true? Actually … yeah. For example, Marie has been hanging out with this one guy for a few months now. Nothing has been formerly established about their relationship, but still they hang out … a lot. So as Valentine's Day came and went yesterday, Marie didn't get anything from this guy except an instant message wishing her a Happy Valentine's Day. Needless to say, she wasn't too impressed. Little things … could this guy have simply gotten her a nice card? Probably. Could he have maybe spent a little cash on some flowers? Maybe. Could he have planned for a dinner with her that night one night this week where it would fit into their schedule? I'd think so. But he didn't. He simply IMed her. Oh, he did stop by her office to say hello, but that isn't anything out of the ordinary. Little things … I can remember the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me on Valentine's Day. Senior year of high school, the girl I was dating phoned my parents and asked them to unlock my car after I went to sleep. The next morning I woke up, my car was filled with balloons, candy and a tape that I was to pop in the tape deck … filled with songs that were "our songs" at the time. Karen and I broke up before we went off to college, and I still keep in touch with her. We are good friends now, and simply converse when we have the time. But I will never forget that as long as I live. Because I'm a sappy wuss? No. Because it was a little thing. A little thing someone did for me. Little things … So Marie was talking to me about this boy situation. She wasn't really upset, as she realized that they weren't an official item, but I could tell she was hoping for a little something. And she was right. Little things can reap rewards. As far as I can tell, any little thing you do to surprise a woman or make her feel good … is worth it. I mean, who wants to feel like they let someone down? Now I'm not saying you have to go spend $100s of dollars on a woman to make her happy. Maybe just spend the day with her. Give her a massage. Doing something creative. Or go steal some flowers from your neighbor's yard. Little things … I went to the florist yesterday with my buddy Steve. He was picking up flowers for his wife. As I was scanning the store, I saw all these middle aged men in there, picking up their dozen roses and scurrying out the door. Don't get me wrong, I don't think Valentine's Day is the most important day in a relationship. Hell, I think any other day of the year is more important. Because those are days where you don't feel obligated to do something nice … and if you do … they remember it. But I know one thing, all those wives that were getting those flowers probably felt like little teen-age girls all over again. Little things … Did I give advice to Marie? Yes. Did I possibly break some male code of ethics? That is debatable. What I told Marie later in the day was this: don't let him not doing anything for you make or break the relationship, but certainly don't entertain any physical needs he may have right away. Talk to him about it. Let him know it wasn't the most important thing to you but that it would have been nice. I'm not saying giving flowers is going to get you some action … it may, it may not. That really shouldn't matter. If you truly enjoy the person, a little thing is really just that … something little that you can do to make someone else feel good.

First of all, that's bullshit …

So I was thinking the other day … about relationships and women … you remember the circa 1985 John Hughes film, "Weird Science"? It's just a funny movie about two tools who end up becoming the cool kids in their small little Chicago suburb town. Well, I don't live in Chicago, nor have I ever even been there … I suppose I could pass for a tool some of the times … but the idea of the movie made sense to me the other day. So our hilariously dorky characters Gary and Wyatt started cutting out pictures of different women … trying to make their perfect girl. I suppose they did this in the movie to become more social accepted … and to maybe get laid. So they create Lisa: this long legged, beautiful woman played by Kelly LeBrock. I don't know about you, but Kelly LeBrock was like a goddess to me when I was eight years old. She was just HOT! I mean, tell me you wouldn't freak if the first words Kelly LeBrock ever spoke to you were, "So, what would you little maniacs like to do first?" Anyway, Lisa spends the rest of the movie trying to give these guys confidence and help them out with issues from dealing with parents to friends.

So what really stuck out to me, was the idea of having this perfect woman. One you could just pick and choose what you wanted. I mean, I've dated enough women in my life to start narrowing down things that I do and don't like. And out of most of the girls I come in contact with, be it dating or friends, there are little things about each of them I'd like to see in my ideal woman … ideals, someone's laugh, someone else's smile, someone's legs, someone's sense of humor, someone's confidence, someone's artistic ability, someone's creativity, someone's passion … I mean, you yourself can probably sit there and think of different things you enjoyed or do enjoy in the different people you meet …

Gary: We're in.
Wyatt: We're in trouble Gary. This is highly illegal.
Gary: We need more input. We gotta fill this thing up with data. We gotta make her as real as possible, Wyatt. I want her to live. I want her to breathe. I want her to aerobicize.

Ok, so maybe I don't want someone who will aerobicize … but after sitting there with my small little brain, and thinking about how great this would be … to create this "Lisa" character ... I realized two things:

1. It's not fun.
2. It's not fair.

It wouldn't be fun simply because, it's not the chase. One of the most exciting parts of finding someone new is the feeling you get in after the first few dates. I mean, whether you can't stand them or find yourself really enjoying being around them, you get a feeling one way or the other. I don't know if there is a term for that feeling or not, but there should be. Maybe it should be called two-week bliss. Regardless, having this ideal perfect woman in your head just isn't fun. I think it can be totally destructive and not leave you much room to open yourself up to others.

And it certainly isn't fair to others. It isn't fair to that incredible person that for some reason REALLY enjoys you. If you are that other person, having to stack yourself against something you don't even know about is more difficult then getting up the nerve to ask for someone's phone number. Be fair … be open. Talk to as many people as you can.

Am I saying settle? No way. I think that is possibly the worst thing you can ever do in life, be it with relationships, friendships, jobs or just life in general. Always search for the best, that is what I think. But you have to simply remember, there are no Kelly LeBrocks … there are no Lisas. There are no women, or men, that you can just create on your own and have everything you want and desire. And chances are we are no Lisa for someone else. We are just who we are. And instead of living in some movie world where anything you want is at the touch of a keyboard, you live in a life where you can find someone who is incredible at any point in your life. But sometimes, you just have to open yourself up to it.

"Maybe it was a dream, you know, a very weird, bizzare, vivid, erotic, wet, detailed dream. Maybe we have malaria."

First of all, that's bullshit …

Ok, never buy a sectional couch. I mean, NEVER. They have to be the worst creations in the world. I can't understand why anyone ever thought these things were a good idea. Oh, and if you have hard wood floors, you might as well say goodbye to whomever you are sitting next to, because lord knows your section of the couch will float away faster than Wilson off of Tom Hanks' raft.

I suppose there are some advantages really. Being able to move the different pieces … creating a different seating area. That's a good one …………………………… um ……………………… maybe that's the only one. The couch in our den doesn't even attach to itself. Apparently some sectional couches have little clasps that hold them together. Oh no, not ours.

Why has this become such an issue with me? Here's why … I had to sleep on the damn thing Saturday night. After just a kick ass night out on the town, people returned to Spring Street to relax. Well, a couple of our lady friends partied a little too much to return to their respective homes that night, so I, being the true gentleman that I am, offered them my bed. After they kicked me out, I retired to the den where I put on the Sting – Live cd (great cd by the way) and collapsed on the sectional couch.

Now the problem wasn't really with me falling asleep … I could have done that standing up at that point in the night. But when I woke up, I discovered that I had become a member of a touring contortionist group. The freakin' sections of the couch had totally separated. My legs were in between two sections, toes touching the ground, and my arm was off the other end … I was an island unto myself, if even only for a night of sleep.

But seriously, what a pain in the ass. I was so sore and pissed when I woke up … not to mention, part of the couch had caused the electrical cord to my lamp to bend out of the socket.

All in all a very unpleasant night of sleep on a couch that I would just as soon throw out the window before I ever sleep on it again. Not to mention, it's very difficult to make out on a sectional. I don't advise it.

First of all, that's bullshit …

What is bullshit is parking on campus. I mean, are you kidding me? I work at Wake Forest University. There are about 4,000 students on this campus, and a good number of faculty and staff. I attended the University of Georgia, which granted had more land, but had about 27,000 more students and a ridiculous amount of faculty and staff. Now, it wasn't always easy to find a parking space on campus at UGA, but at least they admitted they had a problem and have attempted to do something about it over the years. Here at Wake, it is a different story.

Now, I don't have a right to bitch when I'm only walking a short distance. Spots can be found on this campus, but sometimes it entails a little exercise. BUT, what I CAN bitch about is the parking management. They issue a ton of parking passes to students, faculty and staff, yet continue to limit the number of spaces that are available … and have NO immediate plans to solve the problem. So what is their answer? TICKET EVERYONE!!! Yes, there are spots reserved for students … there are spots reserved for faculty and staff … but does ANYONE on this campus EVER pay attention to that? Not F*#&^%G likely! Students park wherever they want, staff parks wherever they want … why? Because the parking spaces are so limited and b/c everyone knows the parking management here doesn't have the … well, u know … to do ANYTHING about it. I've probably amassed $100 it tickets here over two years … maybe more. Do you think I'm gonna pay a dime? Hell no. Students either laugh off the tickets, or find a way to get out of them. Hell, most of the students here get three and four tickets placed on their car before they will even remove them from their windshield wipers. Now, I am totally generally speaking here, but I imagine most of the students don't worry about the tickets because they have the money to pay them. It is all a total scam. If parking management were truly concerned about the parking problem, they would start towing! TOW A CAR DAMNIT! Start putting the fear of God in students and faculty that park illegally. But, WHY OH WHY, won't they do that? BECAUSE THEY WON'T GET A SINGLE DIME FROM TOWING! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! It is all just this never-ending cycle that will continue until the university decides to do something about the problem. Look here people, build a frickin' parking deck! But sir, we can't do that. It would take away from the aesthetic value of our fine campus. BIG DEAL! There is a problem here. Admit it, figure it out and do something about it. Build the damn thing underground if you have to, I do NOT care. Just help someone out here, instead of padding the dollar bills in the parking management pot of gold. I suppose I really shouldn't care since I'm just about finished with my time here, but I do. Everyone else that is stuck here after I'm out has to put up with this crap. And I pity them for it. I'm aware parking is probably a problem for most campuses, but most campuses do something about it. Not this one. NO SIR! We'll just keep building and building and building and building and building until we have to start busing over from Greensboro. So my rant will go unnoticed and the problem will continue. So be it. At least I can find comfort in the fact that if I park illegally, they aren't gonna do a thing about it … they can prevent me from graduating … two diplomas from one school. One school that deals with its problems.

First of all, that's bullshit …

The only thing I can dispute in Big Red's last two columns is that … the Kansas/Missouri rivalry is not the biggest in college basketball. Regardless of whether either team is having an off year or not, there is no doubt in my mind … and most of the sporting community … that the UNC/Duke rivalry is THE rivalry in college basketball. The first episode this year wasn't much of a contest … and it just kills me to watch Coach K get one more victory in Chapel Hill … but Carolina will pick it up. And if nothing else, Coach K knows that. The rest of this might be a tear jerker … consider yourself warned. So what is it about feeling compelled to get on the computer when I get home from a night of drunkenness? I mean, can I tell you how many countless times I've gotten on the computer and sent drunk emails spilling my emotions or anger to someone. Oh Jesus, let's not forget the ridiculous amounts of cash I've shelled out while being on E-Bay drunk. I knew those Blue Jays roller skates were a bad idea. But I suppose not all of it can be a bad thing. After coming home from a celebratory drink or two at Burke Street Pub back in the late fall, I hoped on Instant Messanger … drunk … and found my good friend Meghan Conway online. Over the past year, Meghan and I have become great friends, although we have never met face to face. Unfortunately, the matters that brought our friendship together aren't the ideal picture perfect start to a friendship. Meghan's older sister, Stephanie, was a dear friend of mine during my grad school year at UGA. Steph worked in the athletic department along with me and the rest of the crew. Sadly enough, Stephanie passed away in Nov. of 2000 due to complications from a car accident. If you'd like to read more about that, click on the icon with Stephanie's photo on the left hand side of the screen. As tragic as Steph's passing was, and still is, it made me realize a great deal about friendship, family and love. I loved Stephanie. She was an extension of my family, as are all my close friends. Despite the tragedy, it opened up many new friendships amongst her friends. I know converse with people from Oregon I've never even met … all because of the love and passion we all felt for Steph's life. So on this night back in the fall, Meghan and I were talking. I finally got up the nerve to say what I wanted to say … to tell Meghan how much her sister meant to me and how much I missed her … how much it hurt to know that I was here in Winston-Salem … alone … while her family and friends were in Atlanta by Steph's bedside. I know I can't go back and change time or the reason why I couldn't be down there, but I wanted to tell Meghan those things. She is a strong kid, and to lose a sibling is just unbelievable to me. I can't imagine the pain and sorrow she still feels, yet her strength is unparalleled. By the end of the conversation, we were both in tears and just thankful we could discuss Stephanie. So I suppose what I am getting at, and as hooky as it sounds, it just seems more and more important to me to simply talk. Talk to my parents, talk to my sister, talk to my friends, talk to the rest of my family … and let them know how important they are to me. So next time I'm on IM drunk late night and buying something I don't need on E-bay, just be prepared. I could drop you a line and let you know what I think of you.