It's not you, it's ME.

“Love lifts us up where we belong, love is a many splendid thing, love is all you need.”

Discuss.

I attempted to start a cryptic new blog under the pseudonym of Eros, Aphrodite, Agape, or something equally cliche. Just call me Dr. Drew and dial up my love line. Lonely hearts, broken hearts, wild hearts, even cold, sterile, impotent hearts are welcome to punch in my digits for a dose of amor.

There’s a slight glitch. Every time I contemplate some original love thought, Ewan McGregor prancing around in Moulin Rouge pops into my head. ...five, six, seven, eight...jazz hands! Crescendo! Hold that pose...hold it...now sing: “Never knew love could feel like this....” Suddenly I can only think of voule vou couce and other overplayed top forty songs.

So I’ll just cut to the chase. What I really want to say to all of you out there who are dealing with matters of the heart is something much more sentimental and well thought out: Get over it. Love is sooo passe. Self-actualization is the new partnership. Hole yourself up in an ashram, read some Sartre, set up a tent in Wyoming, find a mantra, and if all that sounds a bit extreme, just make yourself some green tea and read a little O Magazine. If you still really feel the urge to find someone, why fall in love the old fashioned way when eharmony.com has practically got it down to a science?

If you still don’t believe me, just consider your options. Even if you do find love, you will inevitably use one of the following ideological pillars to support your wimpy union.
First, there are those who proscribe to the opposites attract school of thought. These people generally tend to fall on either end of the behavioral spectrum and love to stew in their stale personal issues and fermenting neuroses. (Nothing like a cocktail of insecurity and inferiority with arrogance and narcissism to jumpstart a relationship)

Case in point: the introvert and the extrovert. This brand of relationship allows those who love the limelight a justification for their obsequious, attention seeking ways. Those who scoff at small talk can sit back and sip their beer, cosmo, pelligrino or whatever while their other half does the talking. They never gave a shit about the cyst you had removed from your armpit, and now they don’t have to pretend to care. This category also includes the people who want to date someone from the other side of the tracks, the globe, or the dermatological skin scale (from 1 for pasty albinos to 6 for the melatonin rich ebony skinned) merely because they love the idea of something different (fyi I am a 2-3 for olive with a yellow underdone). Yeah, using someone to make a statement or rebel against your upbringing is really healthy.

Then there are the peas in the pod – the people who complete each others sentences and probably have a dog they dress in sweaters during the winder and wear the same outfits from the Gap and have bizarre pet names like my honey bunny wonny zunny! My cinnamon toast crunch! My organic soft noodle! They always seem to have some inside joke that you are left to wonder about, therefore reinforcing their air of exclusivity and thus reinforcing the foundation of their relationship: “Yes, we do inhabit our own world and don’t you wish you could be on it? We have to keep telling ourselves we like each other, or else we’d realize we’re just in love with ourselves. ”

So while all this lovey dovey stuff sounds thrilling, I’d rather you gag me with a spoon first.