Someone REALLY needs to make one of those. In a very close future.

I'm kind of a person who likes rules, and things that work under the rules. For example, machines. You press a button, it does one thing. If you press eject, it doesn't play, or stop, or rewind. It just ejects the tape.

Not so with relationships. You say one thing to ten different people, and you get ten different reactions. And there are certain rules, specific to each person; however, the rules are written NOWHERE, and you can't see the exact equation. Sure, you might see the gist of it, but most likely you're missing that one last z variable that would be crucial to getting the correct answer (and that was such an INTJ analogy right there).

As an INTJ, a lot of people think that my problem is not approaching people. Oh no. It's not that. Then I would have very few friends, and I actually do have a handful. Actually, I don't know what's wrong with me, apart from the fact that... I can't read male species. Actually, I suck at reading people period. When they're specimen (as in, I'm examining them objectively from a scientific approach), bring it on! But when it comes to the stance as "friends", or something along that line, I suck, hands down.

And why am I feeding you this long piece of Hamlet-esque angsty soliloquy, while you'd rather be reading about more antics by Dr. Payne? Ahh, hold it right there. I'm getting to it.

Hypothetical situation: A post-teen male (but not too post... I'm talking about "I just got out of teen" here) to an 18-year old female:

"No, I do want to meet you! You're clever and pretty and we obviously click." (okay, not verbatim, but up t "we obviously click" is.)

Let me give you the stats. This male has not been around too many females (think family here), and while his classmates were chasing around girls he was chasing... oh right, a new version of Playstation (or something along that line). He isn't Mr. Slick, obviously.

The keyword that is bothering the said female is "pretty". Remember all those romantic coding crap that rather belongs in some pseudo-supermarket-fiction version of the mix of Danielle Steel and the Da Vinci Code? Yeah, well, pretty means "we're going to be really good friends". Gorgeous means "you're so beautiful you're kinda far away". Cute means "girl next door, yeah I'm interested". Beautiful means "I hope I can get you, you look damn good."

Additionally, he does not initiate conversation with the said female online. Now, answer the following questions:

1. What is he thinking?
a. I'm really socially immature and I don't know those romance-Da Vinci codes. I really mean what I say.
b. I'm interested in a relationship, but it doesn't have to be you.
c. I'm just humouring you.
d. I'm just looking for a female friend.

See, if it was an equation, I'd solve it in about thirty seconds and give you a definite answer, but considering that relationships aren't just "plug and chug", I don't even know where to start. Because, quite frankly, I don't really care to like a person who definitely won't like me back. That would waste my energy, my brain cells (or what few amount I have left after cramming all those polymerase junk), my money (which is super super limited), and gnomes (and to get this joke, you need to look up "Physics isn't real, it's all gnomes" group on Facebook).

"How about you just enjoy being single?" You might say to the said female. Alas, that is kind of like asking Britney Spears to stop crashing her cars and flashing the entire world on a daily basis.

No, I'm not asking for Gackt-ish relationships where it's "I'll protect you and love you and be there for you forever and ever" (although any male who would like to do that for me is welcome to do so), because that's really unrealistic. And thinking that saying that kind of thing takes hell of a courage for the male (either that or the male is an extreme romantic) and I am definitely a closeted romantic who can write about that stuff, think about that stuff but when it actually comes to acting it out is more screwed than Ivory Merchant's bank account, the likelihood of that happening is about the same as me taking permanent residence in Versailles. But if you are such a male who would like to make such a gracious offer to me, considering that I'm practically blind when it comes to reading signs like that and there is no Braille for this, you pretty much need to shout it out at me .

That reminds me... why the hell is Gackt still single? Because he is not Vincent Valentine and he will get old, and then he'd die... alone. Why isn't he interested in females? And why does he keep kissing males? Is he gay? Is he an alien? (I'm guessing that this is REALLY close to hitting the mark.) And if he's not interested why is he writing all those sticky honey-syrupy songs about holding hands and love? Is he waiting for Miss. Right (and if you are, you are going to be waiting for a LONG time... it doesn't matter if you're celebrity or not).

So... yes. That would be my current evaluation of my life. And I don't think I'll get much chance starting next year, because I really need to graduate with Distinction and to do that... I'd be sitting in my room cramming stuff into my head and I will definitely not be going out on a hunt, because I'd be too tired and too busy. You can't really get to know someone when all you're thinking is "sigmoidal colon and DNA helicase and tetracyclin A". And currently, I have little time left in my day. Next year? Unless it is programmed into my weekly cycle, there will be no time for me to cram something new. And then after med school it'll be my graduate degree, then my residency, then my fellowship, and by the time I'm finished I'll be 34 and Cuddy Version 2.0 (although I am NOT going to get a fertility treatment like she is... hell no).

That reminds me: my lecture notes for Membranes was 24 pages, 8 point font. Now that's nuts.