During a night of drink and gossip with friends, no subject should ever be too taboo to touch. One should be expected to answer their current status, shoe size and most embarrassing sexual moment while effortlessly flirting with oh-so-cute bartender across the way. It’s the kind of dialogue that onlookers love to eavesdrop upon. It was on a night such as this; the tabletop queried a thought my way.
In this day and age of neutered couples, has our need for companionship out weighed our need to get some? Can we survive on companionship alone? Isn’t that just another word for a friendship with benefits? Is this phase of faux dating what we have to look forward to? Are we doomed to dust off our applicants from our dating reject box just to have someone around for major holidays? Have we settled down or just plain settled?
Once, not so long ago, I had a dating mantra. If the thought screaming out my lover’s name during sex was met with a giggle instead of a sigh, they were put into the ‘friend’ box. True story- many years ago I met the “perfect one”- tall, handsome, and quite witty. We hit it off immediately only to my horror of horrors- they shared the same first name as a member of my immediate family. The thought of any family member’s name at any point during an intimate moment sent me running for the hills... Flash-forward to a year later, it turns out that they commonly went by a nickname that bared no resemblance to any name of any of my family members. I learned a valuable lesson that day- research is key.
First let me explain the box theory. There are three boxes – the romance box, the fling box, and the above mentioned friendship box. We all have them: only some of us admit it. The friendship box is self-explanatory. Someone you get along with but someone you are not attracted to. In the Fling box are the borderline cases; friends with bonus features. And the romance box is reserved only for those who make your heart do a triple-loopy when they when they fill a doorway.
I took measure of my friend box and noticed that it was beginning to resemble a church lost and found pile. Thinking that I may have left a stone unturned, I decided to try my hand at dating someone I wasn’t physically attracted to.
I rummaged through my list until I found the ideal candidate: “Dependable”. They looked great on paper. That is, all the critical elements were there: intelligence, sense of humor, and gainful employment. We dated for a few months but the chemistry just wasn’t in place. The sex was mediocre at best. But they had potential in SO MANY other areas.
It was like adjusting to platforms when all you’ve ever worn in life was flats There were no butterflies, no last minute outfit changes- what she saw is what she got. For a while I had even convinced myself that you didn’t need the triple-loopy loop to be happy in a relationship. In the end, it felt like I was scamming the both of us. I’ve sworn off friendship dates ever since. It seems once they are in the “friendship box”; they shouldn’t cross over into the “dating box”.
But recent trends within my circle have me questioning my beliefs once again. Love is believed to be the best scam of them all, followed closely by true sexual intimacy. It seems that so many have settled for what they can get, instead of what they want. It appears that holding out for ‘the one” isn’t on anyone’s “things to do list”. Why hold out for a Royal Flush, when four of a kind will do the job?
It’s hard to wrap your head around a romantic relationship that is nearly sexless from the start. Isn’t that what most of us call a friendship? But there are an uprising of many couples going from one person for a dinner and another for a dessert and still a third for a nightcap. Since when, did the fairy tale start going: “Boy meets girl, Boy date’s girl, Boy sleeps with different girl, and Boy confesses her soul to yet another girl.” The story’s the same for us girls except that we seem to be doing it with more frequency.
There are those of us who believe in true love and great sex that last a life span. At times I think we’re a dying breed- the hopeless romantics with a working libido. As for me, I like holding out for the Royal flushes in life. I firmly believe in the holy relationship trinity: companion, lover, and friend. Friendship is key to any relationship but not the only one.
The “friendship box” is there for a reason. There should be a difference between a causal friend and a soul mate. There has to be different criteria between the two. I want someone who overstepped my friendship box by a mile and went straight for my heart; someone who is capable of equally melting my heart, thighs, and soul with fierce intensity.
So, in the infamous words of the late Marvin Gaye: “If you believe in love, let’s get it on.”
Friday, April 23, 2010
A Case of Freud
Through out history, sex has played a major role. Wars have been started due to it (Helen of Troy). Clothing has been created to hide it (think Victorian area) or to enhance it (think rubber, leather and latex).The type of beer and automobile we purchase are due to hidden sexual messages in the ads. Even the expression “getting laid” dates back to the customers of a 1900’s Chicago bordello the “Everleigh”. (“I’m going to get Everleighed tonight”). Some feel that our very existence comes down to simply getting laid. That sex is the primary motivation for existence.
Sigmund Freud was one of those people. His belief that everything we do is in relation to sex. Case in point: Being a pet owner shows the "softer" side of one's persona: a caretaker, a giver. Earning a paycheck shows that you are stable and able to provide. Showering and brushing your teeth (besides the fact that they are indeed general hygiene) are also things that attract us- the "great" smile and smell.
Even though there are some of us who chose not to mate, we are inherently sexual creatures, just by virtue of being in a physical body and in relationship to the world around by senses, thoughts, and feelings. In the end, it’s all smoke and mirrors to attract someone into our “sexual web”. Sex is wired into our brains- whether we like it our not.
But when put on the racks, we get defensive about those three little letters: S E X. No matter your social class, income level, gender role or credit history- sex is a part of our lives. Either we are not getting enough or too much. It’s either too kinky or too vanilla for our taste buds. Our partners are either too fast on the draw or too slow for words. Sex rarely seems to be just right. But when it is, it’s the equal to a starvation diet that ends with a buffet. It’s the best we ever had and we’re not too proud to beg for more. And though you may not agree with the bearded one or me we both have a point:
In the end, is sex the reason? Give it a moment and think about it.
How vigilant would we be in our primping ritual if sex weren’t the wanted result in the end? Would a Stair Master really be a high priority if no one were there to watch our asses? That last piece of pizza or cheese Danish would be finished off with a smile instead of a dismal sigh of calculating calories. And even when we do get the prize, is it really worth it? Wouldn’t all this be much easier if we purchased a vibrator and lived like we wanted to?
Let’s take for example a typical relationship:
You meet and are groomed from your non-showing roots to your freshly painted toenails. You’re on your best behavior; all the time your hormones are in overdrive. The courting process has officially begun. This means that you must wear only your sexiest underwear, shave and moisturize your legs, and carry extra breath mints in the purse that you never used to carry. Because after all, you need to look both sexy and organized when trying to get some. You’re beyond witty, beyond charming, beyond anything you’ve ever been. This is no ordinary persona, this is “super you”. This is your “gonna get me some” self.
Finally the big night arrives. You’ve polished, waxed, shaved, trimmed, and tweezed as much as possible. There are enough candles to light a small village. Hours have been spent cleaning the entire house, even the kitchen walls. Just in case there’s a pre-sex inspection.
The fresh sheets are soon no more. The sex monster has beckoned and you have answered the call. All the time, wishing you had caller I.D. Soon enough, you’ll be wearing your faded flowered underwear instead of the black thong. Your roots will be showing, proving that you’re really not a true blonde, brunette or redhead. Some dismiss this as the “groove” of a relationship. But let’s face some facts. The let down has happened, the sexual conquest is over and it wasn’t much to write home about. And all that’s left is some melted down candles and stale breath mints.
Before long, we’ll be primping with in an itch of our lives and on the prowl. Maybe a bit wiser this time. But in truth, we never really learned our lessons. If we luck out tonight, it’s back to scrubbed walls and organizational clutches. If not, I suggest investing in a vibrator and a brownie or two.
Sigmund Freud was one of those people. His belief that everything we do is in relation to sex. Case in point: Being a pet owner shows the "softer" side of one's persona: a caretaker, a giver. Earning a paycheck shows that you are stable and able to provide. Showering and brushing your teeth (besides the fact that they are indeed general hygiene) are also things that attract us- the "great" smile and smell.
Even though there are some of us who chose not to mate, we are inherently sexual creatures, just by virtue of being in a physical body and in relationship to the world around by senses, thoughts, and feelings. In the end, it’s all smoke and mirrors to attract someone into our “sexual web”. Sex is wired into our brains- whether we like it our not.
But when put on the racks, we get defensive about those three little letters: S E X. No matter your social class, income level, gender role or credit history- sex is a part of our lives. Either we are not getting enough or too much. It’s either too kinky or too vanilla for our taste buds. Our partners are either too fast on the draw or too slow for words. Sex rarely seems to be just right. But when it is, it’s the equal to a starvation diet that ends with a buffet. It’s the best we ever had and we’re not too proud to beg for more. And though you may not agree with the bearded one or me we both have a point:
In the end, is sex the reason? Give it a moment and think about it.
How vigilant would we be in our primping ritual if sex weren’t the wanted result in the end? Would a Stair Master really be a high priority if no one were there to watch our asses? That last piece of pizza or cheese Danish would be finished off with a smile instead of a dismal sigh of calculating calories. And even when we do get the prize, is it really worth it? Wouldn’t all this be much easier if we purchased a vibrator and lived like we wanted to?
Let’s take for example a typical relationship:
You meet and are groomed from your non-showing roots to your freshly painted toenails. You’re on your best behavior; all the time your hormones are in overdrive. The courting process has officially begun. This means that you must wear only your sexiest underwear, shave and moisturize your legs, and carry extra breath mints in the purse that you never used to carry. Because after all, you need to look both sexy and organized when trying to get some. You’re beyond witty, beyond charming, beyond anything you’ve ever been. This is no ordinary persona, this is “super you”. This is your “gonna get me some” self.
Finally the big night arrives. You’ve polished, waxed, shaved, trimmed, and tweezed as much as possible. There are enough candles to light a small village. Hours have been spent cleaning the entire house, even the kitchen walls. Just in case there’s a pre-sex inspection.
The fresh sheets are soon no more. The sex monster has beckoned and you have answered the call. All the time, wishing you had caller I.D. Soon enough, you’ll be wearing your faded flowered underwear instead of the black thong. Your roots will be showing, proving that you’re really not a true blonde, brunette or redhead. Some dismiss this as the “groove” of a relationship. But let’s face some facts. The let down has happened, the sexual conquest is over and it wasn’t much to write home about. And all that’s left is some melted down candles and stale breath mints.
Before long, we’ll be primping with in an itch of our lives and on the prowl. Maybe a bit wiser this time. But in truth, we never really learned our lessons. If we luck out tonight, it’s back to scrubbed walls and organizational clutches. If not, I suggest investing in a vibrator and a brownie or two.
31 Flavors
Sex and food- the two go together like chocolate and peanut butter, P.B. and J, steak and potatoes, and milk and cookies. Our appetite for one only seems to be outweighed by our craving for the other. We spend our time in immeasurable hours of feeling hungry/horny, wondering when we were going get our next hit- be food or sex. This link though may be more primitive then you thin. Demeter was the Roman Goddess of Fertility and Crops; showing that even ancient civilizations had sex and food on the brain.
Food is an addiction sex is also addiction, maybe the best addiction of them all. Many an affair has started over a diner course. And preparing that special meal can be as intimate, or as traumatic, as having sex with them. The romantic dinner, the late night craving and the noon quickie are all escalations to sex. Certain foods even are thought to be an aphrodisiac like whipped cream, chocolate syrup, powered honey flavored jams and jellies and even Chez Whiz. Grapes, fed one at a time, are a staple of B-movies about decadent, imperial Romans. We give our loved one’s nicknames related to food –sugar, sweetie, honey, and muffin. And of course phrase’s like fish taco, hot- beef injection and hair pie grace the lips of most middle to high school students for years.
The same adjectives can even be described for both sex and food: rich, spicy, mouth watering, sticky, messy, smooth, gooey, hot, cold, and in different. We also swallow, lick, bite, taste, suck and spit our way thru many courses and many lovers. Haven’t we wished for the pizza delivery person to show up with a different kind of pie? And if they doe, will the "30 minutes or free" be adjusted to all services rendered. And who hasn’t tried to recreate the refrigerator scene from “9 ½ Weeks”? But how about combining the Betty Crocker Cookbook with the Kama Sutra ? What if Julia Childs and Dr Ruth wrote the definitive sexual cooking book? This question became the topic during recent cocktail hour with friends.
Their reactions and answers were mixed. In the end, strawberry quick (sweet and smooth going down), brand “x” roman noodles (a basic staple), and poorly made sushi (tons of hype over some raw fish and rice) is what we came up with. So I ask you, does your lover make you think of gumbo (a savory mix with kick) or box of instant mashed potatoes (a quick fix)? Do they melt in your mouth? … Finger-licking good? … Good to the last drop?
Appetizers- foreplay, foreplay, foreplay. With this lover, sex is finger- foods as it’s best.
The meat and potatoes type- basic but still wonderful. The kind of sex that sticks to your ribs. Juicy, tender and who so filled with calories. It maybe not be as spicy as you’d like, but established is the name of this game.
The seven-course meal- a rare treat in itself. All the bases, no stone is left· unturned in this meal, no taste bud left wanting. You walk away feeling full and satisfied in every way.
The buffet- a bit of everything and a whole lot waste of time. Remember-· your eyes usually are bigger than your appetite. This lover feels it’s a necessity to try and serve it all instead of mastering a few.
The convince store/ fast food- microwave burrito’s and greasy burgers with· fries are a fun treat sometimes, but is this really a meal that you’d like all the time?
Comfort Foods- these are the lovers that feel like home. They remind you of· good old fashion Sunday meals of fried chicken, lumpy mashed potatoes with homemade gravy and all the sides. They seem to know every inch, every part of you all at once.
The desert cart- the sweetest of the sweet. Indulge yourself in the· never-ending array of cakes, pastries, and pies. But remember ladies, too sweets leads to tooth decay.
We are instilled with two basic appetites- one for sex and one for food. With some lovers, you might starve to death from lack of nutrition. While with others, you may need “Overeaters Anonymous”. The future may show foreplay as a menu idea and many positions as carcinogenic. Lovemaking with any partner can be a feast or famine- a speculator buffet or letdown of leftovers. But it is always what you make of it. The proof, after all, is in the pudding.
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