I learn love from COSMO

I bought an issue of COSMOPOLITAN magazine yesterday. The reason why I bought it -- other than the article about the future of performance art and the three-part series on how Fallujah Battle May Carry Heavy Political Price for Iraqi Government -- was because of this coverline:

WHY YOU SHOULD BE A JEALOUS BITCH!

Here are some highlights from that particular article:

"[...], but it is okay to casually point out specific things that irk you -- like when a friend flirts with him or he repeatedly brings up a female coworker you distrust.
Just keep the comments directed at the chick's behaviour so you don't seem like you're trying to control him. Examples: 'I don't like the way she was hanging all over you' or "Could she show any more cleveage?'"

Nice.

The same issue also offers these tips:

From the article "Get a Conversation Rolling"

Before a social event, peruse the news and check out the daily Conversation Starter at cosmopolitan.com so you'll have fascinating things to talk about (just skip the heavy issues).

From "Get to Know the Inner You"

Consider: Who is your fave female celeb and why? She may possess qualities you hope to cultivate in yourself.

From "I Catch Cheaters for a Living" sidebar "Cheat-Proof Your Relationship"

Suggest getting together with his female friend or coworker if he seems to mention her a lot. The woman in question will be less likely to move in on your man if she knows (and likes) you.

museum of broken relationships!

http://www.brokenships.com/sto_je_mobr.php

libido loss

Was going to go to the Toronto's Everything About Sex convention this weekend but after clicking on "highlights" I lost any desire to do so. There was no way I was going to pay $20 for this even if I went... ironically? Ugh. It looked campy, sad, unsexy. Lots of people in the audience sported mullets. Not ironically.

let's not talk about sex

There’s a club on Queen Street West called club Wicked. I read some reviews of the place when it first opened and – as perhaps expected – the reviews described a cheesy, painfully lets-have-fun-fun atmosphere, and an overall snickering vibe that wasn’t exactly sexy.

Allegedly, first timers have to fill out a form and are given a tour of the place. There’s the packed main room where things are usually nervous or, alternatively, nervously exhibitionistic. Upon your first visit, if the Wicked hosts declare that you’re hot stuff, you get a $60 membership to the special area where you can hook up. There's PVC, zippers and bad hair.

I’ve never been. I probably won’t go. It sounds awful. It sounds as if the only appropriate reaction is looking away.

But I’ve been to other places that most people would consider cheesy or giggle-making. I’ve chuckled too. I’m sure I got chuckled at. Once, in one of those places, I saw an old prof. He was wearing a skirt. I was wearing probably not much. We got over it quickly then and had a nice chat. I never went back to that club. I was too mortified. But I used the story to combat the funny-shit-that-happened-to-me anecdotes at parties. Perhaps by making fun, it relieved me from feeling guilty, silly, er, sexual?

Part of me thought that going to one of those places was somewhat embarrassing. It was stupid. What’s next? Club Wicked? The Everything About Sex convention? The point is that I don’t really know why, often, my own reaction has been embarrassment, giggles and eye-rolling. I don’t even know if I really was into that stuff (fetish) or if I used to go merely as an anthropologist. All I know is that I wold never casually mention what I used to do on weekends, back then. See, I think with talking about sex, there are three ways: ignoring it, overdoing it or overgiggling.

On the other hand, it’s always okay to endlessly yammer on about cottages, bad customer service at the Gap, yoga and shoes, IKEA and where to have yummiest lunches. It's okay to discuss RRSPs, Cuba, kittens and outfits.

"Looove your belt!"
"Twenty-percent off at the Gap."
"And how is Timmy?"
"Oh, he's finally opening up to the idea of masturbating in front of me."

Talking about sex is like dealing with a worrisome, drunken uncle at the Thanksgiving dinner. You only have these options: Kick him out, laugh at him or just pretend he’s not really peeing in your pansies.

should I stay or should I go

When is a good time to leave your lover?

Ally :
If you catch him "having relations" with a gerbil. That's kind of a huge sign and you should probably leave. ASAP. Like yesterday.

Leanne:
When they tell you to put on bug spray so you don't get West Nile because "I'm not gonna push you around in a wheelchair." That, or when you find parking tickets with the address of a friend's house on them dated to 5 a.m.

Joshua:
When they say they don’t love you any more, and you laugh because you think it’s one of their jokes, but actually they're being serious...and you start crying and then they start hitting you. when that exact sequence of events occurs it is a strong indication.


Bunmi:
When you have nothing to say to each other and you just don't laugh any more. And when you feel like you are just dragging each other down... down... down...

Krista:
When the pain of staying with them is greater than the pain of leaving. Or when you know in your heart of hearts that you're no longer in love with them and chances are that will never be rekindled.

Brian:
A good sign is when they ask you to make room in the closet for their new partner's stuff...

groping part 2

Three groping stories from a friend:

"I went out last night and on my way out of the bar, a guy stopped me. He put his hand on my hips, and then whispered in my ear: 'You're the most beautiful woman here.' You'll laugh at this, but I just looked at him and said: 'Yes.' Then I walked away. Guess he thought he was getting an insecure girl who would buckle at the complement.... not me.

When I was in Italy, I was walking down a spiral staircase that only had room for one. Two men were walking in the opposite direction. As they approached, I backed into the rail so they could pass. And the one guy, seriously, put his face into my chest. It was unbelievable. I was so shocked the only thing I could do was burst out laughing. Not an awkward laugh either -- a full-out-just-heard-the-funniest-thing-ever laugh. Then he winked. I guess we shared a moment.

Another story that comes to mind is when I was 19. In XXXXX an old bank was converted into a dance club and called Monopoly. The VIP area was the old safe. There is this one area that was always soooo packed. I swear guys would just stand there, groping all the girls who were trying to stream their way through. It was so dark in that corner you could never see who was in front of you. When a guy would grab my ass or chest, I would grab his hand and squeeze it so hard that I could feel his bones rub together. One time a guy screamed. I yelled out, 'That was me, in case you couldn't see.'"

This woman is my heroine for having some really amazing gropage-reaction techniques. I love it that they involve subtle & timely psychological intimidation, which, I'm sure, can sometimes be as equally effective as the physical one. Bravo.

groping

I was at a big sparkly event and a guy in a suit groped me. I thought nothing of it. Later on that evening another guy ran his finger from the inside of my elbow, down to my hand, which he squeezed and released. Maybe he was on X. It's possible that lots of people ate pills to prep & felt extra affectionate that way. The place was sexy, clubby, the sort of a place where there was an equal amount of flashy testosterone as there was silicone.

Two gropers in one night!

Though it wasn't just the gropers that made me reflect about this occurrence. It was my own attitude, too. It was: The thinking nothing of it. The lighthearted reportage of it to my partner after we left.

I don't go to clubs much any more. I don't know if this is a casual situation that girls get groped and (some) guys grope because they know that it's a safe, er, noncommittal (puke) way to touch a girl. Maybe it is expected in a club. Because, honestly, what girl is going to react in a flash and make a big hysterical deal out of it? By the time it's done & over with, the groper's disappeared into the crowd, the girl is still processing if it really happened and maybe even -- similarly to me -- is entertaining an obscenely insane thought: Oh well, I guess that douchebag really, really liked me.

Here's the thing:
As my partner pointed out that quick and accidental seeming gropage is a really cowardly, aggressive thing to do.

I will add: If you are a groper , it also means that you have a very tiny dick.

It's as honourable as releasing a deadly fart in a classroom and making googly eyes at the person who smelled you out.


But it is also me -- the person who chooses to ignore or is scared to make a fuss that should learn to not put up with your sticky little-dick hands. I am not sure what the appropriate response is and how to activate it right away next time the gropage happens but I will do my best to at least announce loud & clear that you, dear groper, are a complete douchebag.

shame, shame, shame

I read something about shame the other day. I don’t know where I read it. Maybe I heard it on TV. I don’t have a TV. I read it somewhere then. I apologize for not remembering where. It seems that sometimes I only have an unfailing memory for random things. Such as remembering breeds of dogs.

The thing that I heard/read about shame was that everyone has their level of sexual shame. Meaning that even the most explicit, shameless, comfortable-with-sexuality person will eventually encounter something that will make them pause, blush. (I do not mean sexual acts, which are generally considered taboo, violent, illegal and retarded.)

I am talking about a situation where we have two (hold on) consenting, hot-for-each-other adults who are naked or partly naked together.

So there we have them, naked, and they are doing things to each other, which makes at least one of them squirm or scream in delight and then, all of the sudden, the blush-causing one says, “Hey, how come there’s only two of us here?”

Whoa.

Or there have the three of them, naked, and they are doing things to each other, which makes at least one (or two) of them squirm or scream in delight and then, all of the sudden, the blush-causing one person says, “Hey, you know how I told you I really like coming on women’s feet?”

Whoa. Whoa.

And so on.

Both examples that I gave are perhaps mildly risky. Thou I don’t really know. It’s not like anyone talks about sex ever. We talk about what we had for lunch or what TV shows we like to watch so I have no idea if these sorts of things (threesomes, ejaculating on feet) would be blush-causing. I am just guessing.

Okay but THE POINT IS.

The point is that it’s interesting that levels of shame are individual so that one person’s casual threesome is another person’s baddest taboo.

Maybe it's not that interesting. But when I heard/ read that about shame it made me think about what my own, current level of sexual shame was.


The First Annual Playboy U College Sex Survey

During the summer we polled the students of Playboy U on a variety of sex, relationship and dating questions. The results appeared in the October college issue of Playboy along with a student roundtable on the state of sex on campus. Here is what we learned:

bad behaviour

female friend: Go to the party. I want you to see his new girlfriend.
me: Why?
female friend: To spy for me.
me: Okay.

Okay?

biology

Viagra may make a man more loving as well as improve his physical performance, research suggests.

Viagra was found to boost levels of oxytocin.Scientists have discovered that the impotence drug can boost levels of a "cuddle chemical" in the brain.

Oxytocin, also known as the "love hormone", is thought to promote romantic feelings and bonding between couples.

The hormone is released during orgasm in both men and women and has been linked to sexual arousal. It also plays important roles in childbirth and breast-feeding.

Viagra, the brand name of the drug sildenafil, overcomes impotence by blocking an enzyme that limits blood flow to the penis.

The same protein, phosphodiesterase type 5, also acts as a brake to regulate oxytocin release in the brain. Viagra eases the brake off and allows cells in the brain's pituitary gland to generate more of the hormone [...]

-Telegraph

Or just get him to get his wisdom teeth pulled out and come home with a solid prescription for Oxy and you'll have a regular Care Bear on your hands.

But seriously. It is fascinating how much -- if not entirely -- we are ruled by biology(meaning: brains, hormones, drugs, etc.). My partner and I sometimes talk about this stuff:

Me: I'm obsessed with celebrities because as a woman I am predisposed to be naturally interested in things like relationships. It's just my biology.

Him: So is peeing. You don't pee on the street just because your biology is saying that you have to go now. Just because it's biology it doesn't mean you can't control it.

Me: We need to buy your father a present. His birthday is coming up.

Him: I am a boy. I don't remember dates.

Me: Biology. You should fight against it.

Him: Sorry, what were you saying?