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By Dennis Hong, March 14, 2011 6:00 am

For months after Julie and I broke up, we chose to remain friends.

Yes, it was a mutual decision.

No, really.

Stop rolling your eyes.

This is not another rant about being stuck in the Friend Zone.

We still cared about each other, and we still enjoyed each other’s company. We just realized that, romantically, we weren’t all that compatible. We were like peanut butter and bacon: You love ‘em both. Just not together.

We continued to hang out fairly regularly, though. In fact, we joked that we were kind of/sort of still going on dates. Except that they didn’t end in anything physical….

Wait.

Okay, yes. They were exactly like many dates I’ve been on.

I was fine with that. We both knew that muddling the boundaries we’d established wouldn’t be a good idea. So, we continued our platonic dates, going out to dinner, chatting about what was going on at home and at work, slipping into deeper conversations about our lives… our hopes… our fears….

That’s when I had an epiphany.

I was totally getting screwed in this arrangement.

In recent years, scientists have discovered that the hormone oxytocin is responsible for feelings of attachment in women. Most notably, oxytocin is released when a woman orgasms. This explains why women have a more difficult time having casual sex. When they orgasm, their brains release oxytocin, which reinforces their emotional attachment to the man they’re with.

So, it’s not that women don’t want to have casual sex, or that they don’t like casual sex. It’s just that women often have a difficult time keeping it casual.

Continue reading 'We Weren’t Having Sex, But I Was Still Getting Screwed'»

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By Dennis Hong, January 3, 2011 6:00 am

There’s a perception floating around that men are more promiscuous than women and, hence, have more sexual partners during their lifetimes.

Well, I call bullshit. And I’m bringing my army of math to back me up.

In a survey taken by ABC News, men reported a lifetime average of 20 partners, while women reported a measly 6 partners. That is, the average male in the United States has more than three times as many partners as the average female.

The article goes on to explain that it’s probably a small percentage of highly promiscuous men who skew the male average upward, in much the same way that a singular percentage of partial-term state governors skews the average intelligence of Alaska noticeably downward.

The problem is, not only is the survey result a mathematical impossibility, so is the promiscuous male explanation. Here’s why:

For simplicity, let’s represent the population of the United States as a group of five men and five women. Taking ABC News’s explanation, we’ll start off with one über-promiscuous male in our population. He’s slept with all five women, while each of the five women has only slept with him:

Continue reading 'Mathematical Proof That Women Are Just As Promiscuous As Men'»

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By Dennis Hong, December 6, 2010 6:00 am

Image by minifig via Flickr

I have no problem with the Friend Zone. The Friend Box. Friendship Island. The Vortex of Platonic Optimism….

Whatever you want to call it, I think opposite-sex friends are splendid. They can be an arsenal of insight when we need help understanding, well, the opposite sex.

What’s not so splendid is the opposite-sex friend who desperately wants to be more than friends. Especially when the opposite-sex friend who desperately wants to be more than friends is….

Me.

Oh, how I hate Me when Me gets Myself into that rut.

Years ago, I had a classmate, “Holly.” She had just moved to Southern California, and I was one of the first friends she made here. I think she gravitated towards me because I was already familiar with the city. That, and I also threw parties. Lots of them. If friends were crack, then my apartment was her pipe, and she’d show up at my place whenever her social life needed a fix.

One night, a group of us set aside our rampant partying and went out clubbing instead. Late in the evening, Holly and I found ourselves separated from everyone else. In a fit of drunkenness, we somehow started making out.

Over the next few days, I realized that I wanted to be more than just friends with Holly. So, I did what any rational non-eunuch would do: I asked her out.

Unfortunately, she confessed that while she enjoyed our impromptu kissing session, she wasn’t interested in dating me. Pretty brutal rejection, right?

Still….

Continue reading 'Wasting Away In The Friend Zone'»

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By Dennis Hong, October 4, 2010 6:00 am

When it comes to sexuality, many people believe that humans are unique in the animal kingdom: we feel love, we’re psychologically complex, we form long-term monogamous bonds.

Well, science calls shenanigans.

According to scientists, the similarities we find between animals and humans actually reveal some of our most basic instincts, and monogamy isn’t necessarily one of them. Take a look at these five animal behaviors with uncanny parallels to humankind:

1. Males are naturally polygamous, while females are naturally monogamous

This first tidbit of insight is drawn from a study by sociobiologist Robert Trivers, in his seminal work titled, “Duh.”

Natural selection is based on the principle that parents pass on their traits to their offspring. Any heritable traits that enable an individual to produce stronger or more offspring will spread from generation to generation with greater frequency, while those that result in weaker or fewer offspring will gradually be extinguished.

Instinctively then, animals behave in such a way as to maximize their chances of producing offspring, because these are the behaviors that get passed on. That tingling sensation we feel in our nether regions when we see an attractive member of the opposite sex? It’s just our body’s way of prodding us to procreate.

Continue reading 'Monogamy Is A Load Of Crap'»

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By Dennis Hong, September 13, 2010 6:30 am

Image by doug88888 via Flickr

This piece was inspired by a heated discussion I had with a man who believes that teachers have an easy job. Please feel free to share it with others if you agree with the message.

I used to be a molecular biologist. I spent my days culturing viruses. Sometimes, my experiments would fail miserably, and I’d swear to myself in frustration. Acquaintances would ask how my work was going. I’d explain how I was having a difficult time cloning this one gene. I couldn’t seem to figure out the exact recipe to use for my cloning cocktail.

Acquaintances would sigh sympathetically. And they’d say, “I know you’ll figure it out. I have faith in you.”

And then, they’d tilt their heads in a show of respect for my skills….

Today, I’m a high school teacher. I spend my days culturing teenagers. Sometimes, my students get disruptive, and I swear to myself in frustration. Acquaintances ask me how my work is going. I explain how I’m having a difficult time with a certain kid. I can’t seem to get him to pay attention in class.

Acquaintances smirk knowingly. And they say, “well, have you tried making it fun for the kids? That’s how you get through to them, you know?”

And then, they explain to me how I should do my job….

I realize now how little respect teachers get. Teaching is the toughest job everyone who’s never done it thinks they can do. I admit, I was guilty of these delusions myself. When I decided to make the switch from “doing” science to “teaching” science, I found out that I had to go back to school to get a teaching credential.

“What the f—?!?,” I screamed to any friends willing to put up with my griping. “I have a Ph.D.! Why do I need to go back to get a lousy teaching credential?!?”

I was baffled. How could I, with my advanced degree in biology, not be qualified to teach biology?!

Continue reading 'The Hardest Job Everyone Thinks They Can Do'»

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By Dennis Hong, August 9, 2010 6:30 am

As some of my friends have noticed, none of my last few girlfriends were Asian. My usual response is, “why, am I supposed to have an Asian fetish?”

Okay, okay, I know what they’re implying: I’m Asian. And Asians are supposed to like other Asians. Right?

Sure. And eat rice. And love math. And know just how much starch to add to your laundry…..

Point being, my last few girlfriends have been of the noticeably non-Asian variety, which has led to my unceremonious branding with the “twinkie” label. (In case you aren’t hip on your urban speak, a twinkie is an Asian who acts white—that is, yellow on the outside, but white on the inside.)

Whether or not I really am made up of a gooey white cream center and can now be found in heart-wrenching deep-fried form at the county fair, the truth is that I rarely meet Asian women who are interested in me. For years now, I’ve wondered if all is not harmonious in the land of Rice Rocketry. For years now, I’ve suspected that a disproportionate number of Asian women here in San Diego only want to date non-Asian men.

Well, I finally decided to verify my suspicions by turning to the ultimate refuse… er, refuge of superficiality: Match.com.

On Match, not only can people list their own ethnicity, they can also list every ethnicity they’re willing to date. So, I ran a search for women between the ages of 21 and 40, who list themselves as Asian, and who reside within 50 miles of my zip code. Of these women, I wanted to see what percentages 1) specifically include Asian as one of their preferences, and 2) specifically exclude Asian as one of their preferences.

Continue reading 'I Date Outside My Race Because My Race Won’t Date Me'»

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By Dennis Hong, July 5, 2010 8:00 am

Photo by pmarkham via Flickr

I decided to do the online dating thing again. And when you’re doing the online dating thing, you get to fill in these little packets of personal information. One self-description that I invariably put down is that I can be a bit of a smart-ass. I put this down because… well, I’ve been known to make girls cry on the first date, so I feel that sufficient warning must be granted to all my potential suitees.

Not too surprisingly, I often get matched up with other alleged smart-asses. What does this mean when I meet up with these women then? Mostly, we spend a large portion of our time barbing back and forth in a proverbial urinating contest to see whose gluteus is more intelligent.

Unfortunately, some people don’t seem to understand the difference between being a smart-ass and being an ass. Hey, I admit it. I’ve had issues with it myself. (Again, I made a girl CRY. On a FIRST DATE.) To be perfectly honest, I still lapse occasionally… er, frequently from smart-ass to plain ass.

You see, there’s a fine line between sarcastic and insulting. Being sarcastic takes intelligence, a quick wit, and some amount of lucky timing. Being insulting is just the clueless person’s substitute for true sarcasm.

Let me tell you about an evening recently spent between two self-professed smart-asses:

We’re hanging out in my room. She happens to have a bottle of Diet Coke with her. She opens the bottle, takes a sip, then drops it and spills a decent amount of soda on my bed. I groan and say, “alright, whatever. Here, get up. I’m gonna change the sheets.”

She says: “Don’t worry, we’ll just cover it up. You can change them in the morning.”

I say: “Ummm, I’d rather just change them right now. I’m not gonna sleep on a Coke stain.”

[SSSSSKRRRRRRTTTTTTZZZZZZZZZZZZ] Time out.

Continue reading 'There’s A Fine Line Between Smart And Ass'»

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By Dennis Hong, June 14, 2010 11:52 am

Image by Craig Jewell

Now that I’m single again, I’m trying to retrain myself to do the dating dance. I went on a first date recently, and the evening was pretty much a conversational ballet, the two of us daintily tiptoeing around each other with loaded questions and politically correct answers in an effort to figure out if we might actually like the other person.

As our dance continued center stage, behind the curtains I was casually browsing through my playbill of potential dealmakers and dealbreakers. Whenever she mentioned something about herself that I shared, my heart fluttered for a second, and I checked one off on my “good list.” Whenever she mentioned something about herself that I didn’t share, my heart muttered, and I checked one off on my “bad list.”

That night, I stumbled upon a Mega-Dealbreaker. One that superseded all the lesser, mere mortal dealbreakers. Within the rabid pack of dealbreakers frothing in my head, this one quickly established itself as the Alpha:

I can’t be with an absolutist….

I’ll be blunt. I hate camping.

I was born in Taiwan. In the glorified village that I lived for the first four years of my life, hot water and electricity were available—but by no means consistent. Spiders and geckos permanently punctuated the plaster walls, and plenty of venomous wildlife lurked outside. My father clawed our way up the socioeconomic ladder, practicing at three different hospitals and sleeping four hours a day. Because of his ambition, we were able to immigrate to the United States. By the time I was in high school, we lived in a plush Southern California home.

Continue reading 'My Absolute Dealbreaker'»

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By Dennis Hong, June 4, 2010 8:04 am

Image by El Nuko via Flickr

I hate breaking up with someone. I really do. Call me spineless, tell me to grow a pair, I get it. I just have this need to be the “good guy” (or at least deceive myself that I am). I feel better when I’m the poor sap who gets broken up with, rather than the a-hole who dumps an awesome girl.

To that end, I’ve come up with some pretty devious ways to get a girl to break up with me. When I’m ready for the relationship to end, but don’t want to pull the slow fade or just stop calling altogether (remember, I’m trying to be the good guy here), these devastatingly effective strategies get her to do all the dirty work for me:

I “become” excessively busy at work

All of a sudden, my workload surges exponentially. I’ve been given a new project. Or, I’m the newly-appointed office firefighter. Either way, I have to start working late most nights.

After a few months, she starts wondering if work matters more to me than she does. It does, of course. What she never realizes is that I don’t actually have to do all this extra work. I only take it on to get out of hanging out with her. In some cases, I don’t even have any extra work. I simply spend my late nights getting reacquainted with WebSudoku.

So, she breaks up with me. And I get to be the poor overworked sap, unreasonably forced to choose between career and personal life.

I “become” stressed out and moody

This one works great in conjunction with the first strategy, especially if I’m dating a particularly supportive woman who understands the importance of career. For her, being busy may not be a good enough reason to break up. Seriously, right? How dare she be so considerate?

Continue reading 'How I Get A Girl To Break Up With Me'»

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By Dennis Hong, April 25, 2010 6:42 pm

Image by Clipart.com

As the cliché generalizes so succinctly, breaking up is hard to do. Especially when you don’t know if it’s the right decision….

I would like to announce that I just experienced the most civil breakup in the annals of breakups. Seriously, if Gandhi and Mother Theresa had been an estranged couple, they wouldn’t have done a better job. It was a mutual decision, we both knew it was probably inevitable (even though neither of us wanted to admit it for some time), and we parted ways with the promise that we wouldn’t lose touch with each other. No bitterness. No hurt feelings. Nothing bad to say about each other. No sense of rejection or betrayal.

Easy, right?

Of course not. The breakup was still an agonizing, gut-wrenching decision. Because, when it came to making that decision, we didn’t have a reason to break up… or a tangible one, anyway.

The truth is, we got along incredibly well. Continue reading 'In Search Of Certainty'»