Archive for the ‘Sex’ Category

Red ruby slippers

So they are actually more pink and are faux snake skin, but they are wicked cute. The One Formerly Known As My Intern asked why women shove their feet into these strange torture devices. Truthfully? They make us taller and more powerful, and our calves look more defined, thus attracting the male species.

It is all about sex. Reproduction. Survival of the species. Need I say more?

Wedding sex

I have a friend who has a theory, that the best hookups are at weddings. So I’ve been trying to test this theory by attending a lot of weddings. Of course, this is the same friend I tried to pick up at a wedding. I failed, but he has some very good points that validate my attempt:

1. Location, location, location!
Weddings are in cool places with great ambiance and music that you can talk over and dance to. The venue is beautifully decorated, well lit, and romantic. And sometimes you find some really great dancers. I do love a good lead…

Weddings are not in loud, smokey bars full of drunks where your shoes stick to the floor, the neon signs are flashing their way to certain death, strangers grind up against your ass, and you get caught gasping in horror in the morning when you see your hookup in natural light.

2. Appropriate attire is required
Everyone is dressed to the nines and looking pretty damn pimp. This is what your hookup looks like at their best. People spend hours primping and prepping and ironing and curling. No detail is missed.

So even if your hookup dresses like a slob in every day life, you know that if you put some effort into him, you can get him to look more like this on a regular basis.

3. Attitude
People are in a good mood and ready to party. The only tears are usually joyful and not into a beer. Mostly (see #5). Funerals are not particularly good places for hookups. Those are usually done out of desperation and despair. Not that I know any of this personally…

4. Veni, vidi, bibi vino
I’m not even going to paraphrase my friend on this one. He says:

Everyone is always drinking wine. Sure, there’s beer, but wine just makes people want to take off clothing and get some skin on skin. (Sure, hard liquor makes folks wanna get naked too, but it’s different. You wanna bone and get raw when you’re boozing. With wine, you want naked skin on skin for hours, not just a quick “get me off” thrill like you want with booze.)

How can you dispute that?!

5. Timing is everything
My friend’s theory on this:

[Weddings] always end like, at 10pm or 11pm. Rarely do they go to midnight. It’s simply more difficult to find the energy to go get laid at 2am when you’ve been pounding swill. When it’s 11pm and you’ve had three glasses of wine, there’s plenty of time and energy left in the night to get it on.

Although I have been to a few weddings that lasted until the wee hours of the morning. One of those ended with me in my bridesmaids gown, sitting on the dance floor at 2am while Brother K pulled the hundred bobby pins from my hair as Meine Schwester’s ex cried about his broken heart.

What’s your theory?

Weird dreams

This one had some hot but creepy guy who was planning to set me up to take the fall for some crazy scheme he has stealing cadavers. We lived in this big commune with lots of my family members. Everyday when I went off to school, he was training my dog to be part of his plan.

Before school this morning, I had acrobatic sex with creepy guy. What he doesn't know is that I know about his plan. I've been training my dog to do something else when he thinks she is doing what he wants. I've been making him think I am head over heels in love with him while I really am making a plan to kill him and have it look like he botched his own operation.

What woke me up was when I was taking my birth control pill and he didn't seem to realize they were just advil. I also wondered if I'd caught an STD from creepy guy. That was just too messed up even for me.

Involuntary celibacy

In my googling for information about unrequited and forbidden love, I ran into involuntary celibacy, and at the risk of making fun of myself, I have to share some of my favorite parts of the Wikipedia entry.

An involuntarily celibate person is someone who fails to initiate or sustain a sexual or romantic relationship, despite his/her desire to experience such a relationship. Afflicted people may suffer from loneliness, frustration, and may be mistaken for homosexuals who are hiding their sexuality.

Critics to this view suggest that the proper label for this is simply being “single”, which, unlike “involuntarily celibate,” is in common usage and does not carry potential social stigma.

Also, involuntary celibacy could lead to self-absorption and an unhealthy preoccupation with human sexuality .

In many societies (especially Western), heterosexual men are traditionally almost always required to assume the assertive role in pursuing the opposite sex and courtship is considered a competitive sport amongst single, eligible men, who typically employ verbal strategies and tactics to seduce women. Proficiency at these tactics, is called having “game” in American slang, and this is frequently equated with confidence, a trait that is popularly valued in men by women. Because confidence and “game” exist independently of socio-economic status, a man of lower education and status can frequently win a woman’s attention away from a man of higher education and status. This attitude is taken by the seduction community, a group that believes that “seducing” women can be scientifically studied and improved.

Although involuntary celibacy is often associated with love-shyness, love shy individuals do not necessarily experience a lack of people who would consider them attractive. Love shy individuals may simply fail to reciprocate another’s attraction toward them or fail to be proactive in pursuing potential romantic interests, even when success is in their favor.

Driving

I forgot how much I love driving. I haven't driven in two weeks. Getting into my car today was exhilarating. Gripping the gear shift. The feel of leather on leather as I slid my hand around the steering wheel. The simultaneous press and release motion between the gas and the clutch. The resistance of downshifting. Acceleration. Control. Power. The slow glide into the parking space. Sitting for just a moment while the heated seats embrace me before exiting into the cold, cruel world.

Me versus Religion

I was raised Catholic. Sunday school and church every Sunday.

Baptism.

First Communion.

Then there was Confirmation class. That is when I quit.

There were three of us that quit that weekend. Without speaking to each other about it, we all went home that afternoon and informed our parents that we would no longer be attending confirmation class. I told my parents that I would continue to attend church until I was out of their house, but that I would absolutely not go through the Confirmation ceremony. There would be no changing my mind.

It was hard for us to recall what exactly was said that Sunday afternoon. I had a lot of reasons not to be confirmed. The first and foremost is that I can’t agree to be part of a religion that doesn’t treat women as equals. I’ve been raised to believe that I can do everything a man can do, except, as iDad says, “piss on a campfire.” I can still do that, it might just burn a little. And writing my name in the snow is impossible. I remember being pretty pissed off when our priest explained that women can’t be priests because we can’t keep secrets.

I may not have believed what Father Thanh had to say, but I don’t think he meant harm by that. He had been a boat person from Vietnam. He’d learned English from watching Sesame Street while he lived in Canada. As a priest, he was sent to central Maine and was the only non-white adult that I knew. There were a lot of people who stopped coming to church because they weren’t willing to get past his accent. Then there were another group that stopped coming because he was old school and removed all the women from the altar. I may have been upset by that, but I also understood that he was just doing what he had been told to do. And he was in a very difficult position personally. His Latin was very good though, and I enjoyed asking him to help me with my homework. I felt bad for him being stuck in our little podunk town.

So my priest wasn’t the reason I quit. He was doing the best he knew how. He was just following the teachings of the church. It was those teachings and positions on social issues that I have a hard time with. I don’t believe that a penis is a microphone to God, so I don’t understand why women can’t be priests and bishops or be on the altar. I also don’t understand why I need to speak through a man to speak to God. He doesn’t get better reception than I do.

I prefer to confess directly rather than go through an intermediary who isn’t allowed to be married or have children. I know that you don’t have to be a drug user to know that using drugs is a bad idea, but I think if someone is going to give me advice on relationships and raising children that they should have that experience on their own.

I also don’t understand the church’s stance on homosexuality considering how many men in the priesthood are homosexual. One of my favorite priests of all time was and was asked to leave. That probably colored my perspective a lot. I recently hit on a gay guy who had previously studied to become a priest. How can it not be okay to have feelings for another adult of the same sex, but it is okay to abuse children and cover that up? Do children not have rights?

And then there is the birth control issue. I’m not even really talking about the sex before marriage issue. The world is becoming overpopulated, and yet organized religion still promotes having lots of kids because they want to make sure that their religion has lots of members. This is ridiculous. Married couples should be able to use birth control so that they aren’t having more kids than they can afford to support.

Then there is the sex before marriage issue. I don’t have any good reasoning for this other than it is just fun. And I don’t think it is necessarily the work of the devil.

Then there is abortion. I don’t believe in abortion as birth control, but I do believe that there are reasons why women might need an abortion, so I don’t think it should be illegal. I won’t go on a diatribe about this.

Of course, there is the feeling of being brainwashed. Every year, the same readings are read over and over again. I can not go to church for years and yet when I find myself there, I kneel at the right times, I say all the words without thinking about them and I cross myself without even considering what I’m doing. I’ve been taught for years to think for myself, and yet the Catholic Church was always trying to convince me to let them think for me.

Still, I don’t think any of those reasons are the reason why I quit that day. I think the reason was because Father was telling us that Catholicism is the one, right, true religion. I’ve had four years of Latin. We spent a lot of time making fun of the Greeks and the Romans for their multiple gods. Who is to say that the Catholic Church has it right? How can they say for sure that there is only one God? How can they say that Islam and Judaism and all the other religions have it wrong? How can they tell me that all my friends won’t be going to heaven?

I’m gonna hedge my bets and just not be part of any organized religion. I’ll talk to God when I want to and how I see fit. Hope to see you all wherever it is I go when I die.

Normal

What is normal?

A while ago, a friend asked me, “How often do you expect to have sex when you are in a relationship?”
“How long has this relationship been?”
“A couple months, and now we’re living together.”
“So how often do you expect to have sex?”
“Well, ideally, once a day.”
“Seriously?” I didn’t really have to ask that because at this point I knew he was. So I tried to make him feel better. “Someone once asked me if it was normal to have sex three to four times a day.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner. I asked when she had time to eat.”
“Wow. That is crazy.”
“Yeah, that is what I thought.”
“So what do you think is normal?”
Who made me the arbitrator of normal sex habits? “Once or twice a week?”
“That’s all?”
“And not on school nights?”
“No sex on school nights?”
“Too much stress. Can’t have sex when I’m tired from work.”
“Huh.”
“So maybe you two can compromise.”
“I hope so.”
Me too. Poor girl, having to turn him down a couple times a week. Can’t be easy.

What a mismatch between men and women. Women feel like sex is something we have to prepare for. Put on something pretty. Set the mood. Make it into a production. Men act like it is as simple as brushing their teeth. Clothes off and they are ready to go.

So what do you think is normal?

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