BY ADAM DALVA

In print | Published February 7, 2008 — Updated July 31, 2008 10:13

In February of 2006, a fresh-faced, young-boned, punctual, vigorous, healthily undeclared, closely coiffed idea repository wrote, “There is little doubt that February is the only month of the year that actually matters for relationships at Swarthmore.”

Much has changed in the world since then—Jim got with Pam, Chris Rock’s “Head of State” verges on out-datedness, Eli Manning authored a bold sore throat-making two-minute drill to win the Super Bowl (my god), Dick Cheney shot some dude, there’s another New Dorm and Jack Bauer … well, Jack Bauer is pretty much the same—but the young Adam Dalva’s words still ring truer than his love of lists.

For those interested in having some sort of sexual or emotional congress, the coming of February is more terrifying than opening up The Phoenix, reading an article on sexual harassment and then seeing Ben Bradlow’s smiling face next to the word “Clothesline.” Way to pick the only Bob Dylan song that directly ties into the traumatic experience of fellow Swarthmorers, Ben. Well, except for “Knocking on Heaven’s Door.” (And speaking of bad decisions by a Ben, could Ben Van Zee’s first column have been more unnecessary or blatantly incorrect? How is it that a Spike column imitating Josh Cohen inspires mass outrage while this goes by without a whisper? I feel like Charlton Heston after eating delicious Soylent.) All tangents aside, here are some useful tips for those who find themselves unable to resolve a month hairier than Moustache November.

The biggest obstacle to February dating success is the greatest Hallmark holiday of them all. Whether you hate it or hate it more, Valentine’s Day is a dangerous time for any relationship that is an open-invitation for your significant other to decide whether or not they’ll continue to pick against the field. The event cannot be “forgotten” like a birthday so there are few options here. One is to grit teeth and power through, but dogged perseverance does not an insight make. While the much ballyhooed “cut and run” theory is often bandied about, my assumption is that most in the SwatBox are going to want to hold on like death, taxes and Ron Paul (who defies both death and taxes) to whatever action they have. Besides praying for the inevitable Swarthmore Plague to hit on the 13th, the only other viable plan is a return to shock and awe theory, so I hope to see many of you holding up your boom-boxes outside Wharton. Hell, I’m going to do it in the hopes of tricking someone into thinking I’m their boyfriend. Mystery would be proud…

Once Valentine’s is done, your focus must shift to your friends. While the Screw engine is grinding to full power, many of us still have work to do. While the night itself is fairly innocuous, somehow organizing a simple blind date has become more anxious than Republicans who have to choose between a Mormon and a Manchurian Candidate. (Let the Swift Boating begin!) As I see it, you are faced with three scenarios. Here are Screwing suggestions that surpass even the Bone Doctor for hand-numbing goodness:

1. You have to screw a relationship. One of them is quietly making rumblings about how fun it would be to go out with someone different for one night. The other is terrified but must pretend it’s a good idea. If they want to be screwed with each other, they are unhealthily into their theme. Diagnosis: Screw those bastards, in the normal sense of the word. This is the one day of the year when the focus should be on you! Give them a demeaning theme and move on. Never screw someone with someone already in a relationship, unless the cheating index is above 80.

2. Your friend has a crush on someone and demands to be screwed with them, failure is assured. Diagnosis: For God’s sake, don’t do it. Any basic Neg theory would suggest that screwing your friend with anyone they’re actually interested in would be a massive tell. Instead, choose an attractive acquaintance, dress them in hotness and have them meet wherever the object of interest is located. Once both Screws flop, it’s 12:30, they’re both wearing their nicest clothing and “Remix of Ignition” comes on, the biznasty will commence.

3. Your friend has given up on dating and is obsessively planning your screw to conceal their loneliness. Diagnosis: Sit in Sharples, wait to hear the word “screw” and leap in with a picture handy. If nothing can be found, import a ringer from your high school and pretend they are an ML freshman.

It will be a tough month, but if we keep our focus, we’ll make it through. In other words, I’ll see you in my pillow fort.

Adam is a senior. You can reach him at adalva1@swarthmore.edu.

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