the fall of the trashcan
Remember when your little black panties were enough?
Aug 26th
Disclaimer: No, this has nothing to do with my date last weekend, in case any of you try to jump to that conclusion. I started writing this several months ago and forgot about it.
I remember the days when all it took were five little words: “I’m not wearing any underwear.” I fear those days are gone, my friends.
Sex these days is like a three-ring circus. Or at least, it sounds that way. My suspicion is that sex actually hasn’t changed all that much, just the way we talk about it. But the fact remains that there is so much porn now, with people doing things that…well, that I probably don’t even want to do. And the sex toys. Wow. I mean, not that I’m against a good sex toy. I think we all know I’m not.
It’s weird, though. Maybe I’m just crazy, but it doesn’t seem that the expectations of men in the bedroom have really changed all that much. Show up, well equipped, all engines firing, and you know, get the job done. Women, however, are now supposed to be up for anything. It’s like an actual game of Hide the Salami, only apparently now, we’re expected to let you hide it anywhere. And while you’re hiding it, we should be gymnasts who are open to the idea of having sex with a woman (if that strikes your fancy) and don’t mind dressing up like your third grade teacher and giving you a spanking all the while making you feel like the king of the castle manly man.
It wears me out. What happened to regular ol’ sex? Which, by the way, was really good.
I don’t want to swing from a chandelier, dressed like Catwoman, while I regale you with my fantasies of making it with the toaster oven, but of course I’ve never done any of this before because you, you’re the only man I ever want to touch.
PLEASE.
Actually, in my life, I’ve mostly only dated simple guys (long-term). Guys who were happy with a girl in some cotton panties and a T-shirt. Guys who, if I tried to wear anything that might be considered fancy (we’re talking more than three hooks, people), would look at me and say, “Seriously. Take that off, it’s ridiculous.” And of course, I never had SEX with any of them. Hi, Aunt Kim.
For most of my life, the only thing I’ve really been confident about was sex. Again, not that I’ve had any. Hi, Mom.
These days, though, sexy feels cheap. Okay, plus, I SUCK at being sexy. Like in any sort of obvious way. I’m much more likely to giggle and fall on my face than be actual sexy. But sex was the one place I always felt I owned.
NOT in a wetsuit, with five of my girlfriends and a trout, waiting to be shot in the eye with man juice.
Just sex. The good old fashioned kind. Without a movie set full of props.
I’m just not sure how I feel about it any more. Mostly, I feel like because sex has never been some hugely emotional thing for me, I’ve had a fairly casual attitude about it. Not that I’ve had a lot of it. I mean, you know, because I’ve never had sex and all that. Hey, sister’s boyfriend.
This is getting awkward. So I’m going to shut up and just say this:
Men? When did sex become this big production? Do you guys all feel like this, or is it more talk from the peanut gallery than anything else? Is just sex good enough? Should I keep my little black panties, or shall I wear a French Maid costume permanently under my clothes? Do you feel like women have crazy expectations of what you’re willing to do during sex, too?
I found a gold mine.
Aug 18th
So this morning, the lovely @DysFuncJunc posted a link on Twitter to a spectacular article.
I give you – What Women Want: The Push Pull Technique.
Today, for once, I’m going to leave aside the commentary on what this pathetic thing this says about the state of things between men and women. Let’s just focus on the funnies, shall we? (That picture is just…awesome.)
Here’s an example. Establish a physical contact, touch her, show your interest, then move away a bit, push her off.
See what they did there, men? They made you seem like a schizophrenic asshat.
Most women like to be persuaded. This means, when you suggest something, even if she would want to do this or to go there, she would not say “yes” immediately, she would wait until you try to persuade her. Don’t do this, if she does so, just say “no problem” and don’t insist. This would make her confused and understand, that you are not to play with.
And here all this time, I thought you guys WANTED us to play with you? No?
- Show your interest in her, but not all the time. Behave sometimes, as if you don’t care.
- Don’t be like other men.
- Don’t always give her, what she’s expecting from you.
- Be playful. Tease her.
- Be strong not only with muscles, dominate her in conversation.
- Be a challenge for her. A challenge increases woman’s interest in you.
Again, you’re just coming off as a schizophrenic asshat. But let’s note the completely random use of commas. I think my favorite rule of the day is: Be strong not only with muscles, dominate her in conversation. Yeah…DOMINATE HER.
It can also be compared to bodybuilding – you want to gain more muscle mass, as soon as you have reached a particular result, then, when you’ve done another step, you again want to “grow” further.
I’ll admit that I don’t know a whole lot about body building, but it would seem that consistency would be important? And I’m pretty sure that last bit is about an erection.
So, men, there you have it. More regurgitated Pick Up Artist schtick. This time with even worse grammar.
We have a connection. Technologically.
Jun 10th
Padding added to lamp posts in the UK, because people were injuring themselves while texting and walking.
So okay, yeah, everyone has already talked about this, but I’m going to do it again. You love me.
A couple of weeks ago, I had dinner with my mom and something basically punched me in the teeth. My mom’s phone. There’s an app for that (I wish. I would SO pay for a “punch people in the teeth” app. If it came with bail money and the ability to run really fast.), you know.
See, my mom and I have dinner every other Thursday (Oh, what? It’s Thursday! You know what that means. Tune in to Runsheet Radio tonight from 10pm-midnight!), but that particularly Thursday she…talked on the phone for more than three-quarters of our meal. I read a book on my iPhone.
Yes, we were those people. The people who meet each other for dinner and then instead of interacting with each other, we have our eyes and faces firmly crazy-glued to our phones. Awesome, thanks Mom! I feel special.
It’s not really her fault. Sort of. I mean, okay, it kind of is, but this time there was a good reason. Somewhat. It was work-related. A little. The 30-minute conversation she had with my Aunt about my grandparents probably could have waited until after dinner, though.
And the more I watch people, the more I see it. Couples out on dates to simultaneously check facebook on their phones. Families who can’t talk to each other, for fear of missing a Twitter update or a sports score. People who can’t even drive five minutes without checking their email (I would never!). The people who walk into lamp posts and street signs because they just Can’t. Stop. Texting. (People, let’s keep this one, okay? It’s really funny.)
Last night, I was leaving Starbucks, after my meeting with @justdevin to prep for our show tonight, and this couple in front of me was walking in the middle of my lane in the parking garage. Neither of them noticed because they were both balls deep in their phones. I couldn’t get around them because there were cars coming, so finally…I honked. In the parking garage. With echo. I’ve never seen a girl jump so high.
I’m pretty much always puzzled by the tweets I see in my feed from people who are all out together, theoretically to socialize. But instead, everyone is on Twitter. You know what I think that means? No one is having fun. This isn’t a hard and fast rule, but generally, if I’m out with my friends and I’m having a good time, I’m not thinking about pulling out my phone to let everyone on Twitter know how much fun I’m having. I’m too busy having fun.
There are exceptions, though. Like calling out @matrixmechanic for singing along with Ke$ha at a bar. Confession: I kind of like this Ke$sha chick (Boys try to touch my junk, junk). But @matrixmechanic is a 35-year-old former metal-head. Just sayin’. I’m allowed to make fun.
I guess I’m just wondering if we’re too connected. If by seemingly being able to be so “close” to so many people, we’re actually isolating ourselves more from the reality of the people around us. If by having any information we could possibly need or want readily available at the click of a button, we’re actually less smart than we used to be. If by being able to communicate every little thought we think to hundreds or even thousands of people, we’re actually making our thoughts less valuable, less important. Are we becoming individual, tiny, electronic islands, all loosely connected by a string of bandwidth?
I’m just as guilty of it as anyone else, so don’t think I’m trying to tell you guys you’re doing something wrong. I’m just wondering if it’s happening so gradually that we don’t even notice any more that we can’t focus on anything for more than three minutes. Are we even aware that when we’re out with our friends we’re on our phones instead of interacting with each other? Is that okay with you?
Please and thank you?
Feb 23rd
Last night, I had sushi with @newslacker (it had been FAR too long), and we started talking about manners and chivalry and the like. You see, he’s been seeing this girl and she’s “like me.” I’m going to take that to mean smart, independent, and more than her fair share of awesome. Obviously. But he’s concerned because he’s much more traditional about gender roles, and he’s used to dating women who are pretty traditional, as well. This girl isn’t. Like me.
On the way to meet him for dinner, I was listening to the radio, where I heard our dear Artie Spanier (we all remember him, right?) talking about a teacher who has decided to teach his class “etiquette.” Acccording to Artie, parents have been calling the school complaining about this, and Artie himself is horrified that we even have to TEACH etiquette in school. Because he’s a pillar of polite society.
(As a side note, Artie told a touching story of how an older lady dropped her groceries in the parking lot and he saw it and some boys stepped over her cantaloupe and didn’t pick it up and he SOOO wanted to yell at them for not helping that lady out, but he didn’t. He also didn’t help the lady out himself. Way to go, Artie. Stay classy.)
Now, I’ll grant him that the REASON the parents (so says Artie) are calling in to complain is a little astounding. It seems the parents of the BOYS, not the parents of the girls, are calling the school because they’re concerned that this teacher is turning their boys into “sissies.” Seriously? What if he’s turning them into “not assholes”? However, the article I read on the subject said no such thing.
The teacher in question is a man. He is teaching the little boys in his class to stand up when a girl enters the room, to pull out chairs for their little girl counterparts, to open doors for the girls, and to always let the girls go through the door first.
While, fundamentally, I don’t see any problem with teaching children actual etiquette, or manners for that matter, I do have a problem with teaching little boys that little girls are to be treated differently. Why do little girls need to have their chairs pulled out if little boys don’t? Why can’t whoever gets to the door first open the damn thing and hold it open for the person (male or female) behind him or her?
I am a woman. And I ALWAYS appreciate manners. What I don’t appreciate is being treated differently. Polite can be equal. And men who think that just because they want to be chivalrous, I should appreciate it are being chivalrous for the wrong reasons. I will sigh and roll my eyes at you if we have to dance around the door opening for 10 minutes because I got there first and I opened it, but you refuse to go through it first. And frankly, I think you’re being kind of rude.
I don’t think chivalry is dead. I do think it’s antiquated, and much like all codes that were established a long time ago, it can be changed to fit the times. What if instead of only men being chivalrous to women, we all just started being chivalrous to each other, regardless of gender? Would that really be so bad?
In reality, men and women are generally both gainfully employed these days. Men shouldn’t pay for everything. If on a date, whomever did the asking should probably do the paying. Women should ALWAYS be prepared to pay for at least their own meal and drinks. If walking through a doorway, whomever gets to the door first should open it. Whether or not you choose to walk through it first and hold it open for the other person to grab it, or you back up and let the other person go first should be up to you.
I guess the point here is that things don’t have to be skewed along gender lines for people to be polite.
Women, be appreciative when a man does something polite (and when a woman does something polite. Seriously, I was not put on this earth to be your door opener). Feel free to be polite to men and women alike.
Men, realize that you were not put here to take care of women, we’re pretty darn good at that ourselves nowadays. Have manners, but stop pushing your version of chivalry on women who aren’t interested in it. If she wants to pay, let her. If she opens the door, say thank you. Stop acting like a child who hasn’t gotten his way when she wants to do things you deem to be “a man’s job.”
Let’s all try to remember that we’re all PEOPLE. We can all treat each other respectfully. We can all have manners. And we can all be treated equally.
Drop the door in my face again, and I’ll kill you in your sleep. That is all.
The three-date rule, “I love you,” and the loss of something beautiful.
Feb 22nd
I used to work in new home sales. This means I was around a lot of men who build houses for a living. Men who build houses for a living, in my experience, are typically kind of…um, pervy. I was 19 when I started and, as I’m sure you can imagine, they really liked to fuck with me. Especially because at 19, I had led a pretty sheltered life. Calling myself naive would be the understatement of the decade.
Anyway, sometime during my six-year tenure with the pervy builders, I was introduced to what they called “the third date rule.” Since then, I’ve heard many people refer to the third date as the “sex date,” but this rule was a bit more involved. According to them, a woman must be prepared to make the sex with a man by either the third date or the point at which he has spent $150 on taking her out. Whichever comes first.
Now, of course she doesn’t KNOW anything about this. Oh, and my personal favorite man-thing? If she gives it up on the first date, she’s a slut. You shouldn’t waste your time. Never once did it cross their minds that THEY also gave it up on the first date. I mean, unless they just filmed her making the sex with someone ELSE on the first date. But not a one considered himself “slutty.” So a woman must be willing to give it all up by the third date (or the $150 mark) and no later, but also no sooner than the second date. I’m not sure what happens if you spend all $150 on the first date, as that has NEVER happened to me.
In fact, until Princess, I would say that no one had ever really spent a significant amount of money on me.
Well, I have my own “three dates rule.” In my opinion, three dates is the time you absolutely have to figure out if this person you’re going out with has what it takes to be in your life. If you decide that he doesn’t on or before the third date, I don’t think you owe him much of an explanation. Just a simple, “I’m not really interested” should suffice. And on or before the third date, your reason can be ANYTHING. He tucked his t-shirt into his underwear, he wore socks and sandals, he listens to Nickelback, whatever.
But you don’t owe him an explanation. Because the first three dates are just the interview process. And if I can’t figure it out in three dates, that’s usually my answer. Everyone is different though.
However, past three dates, I think you owe the other person an actual, truthful (but not mean) reason why you don’t want to be with him (or her). I don’t think you should be allowed to puss out any more, because you’ve put in a significant amount of time with another person. And that person DESERVES to know what happened. What changed. Even if it’s, “I met someone else and I think he’s better suited to me.” Or, “I just discovered that you listen to Nickelback.”
Breaking up with someone because they listen to Nickelback is ALWAYS okay. In case you hadn’t picked up on that.
I’m so tired of people pussing out. Of being too cowardly to be honest. Imagine all the over-thinking, over-analyzing, and misery you can save someone if you just take a few minutes to be honest. Of course, this also means you have to be honest with yourself. There’s no way to tell someone else the truth if you’re lying to yourself.
On a related note, this “I love you” thing has gotten way out of hand. Men (and I’m sure women) use it to get what they want without meaning it at all. And women (I don’t really know about men here) love the sound of those words so much. Want them to mean something. And when they don’t, it hurts.
Men, please stop throwing out the L-word when what you really mean is “You’re okay and I like hanging out with you for now.” Those are NOT the same thing. And if a woman hasn’t said it to you, please don’t say it to her if you don’t mean it. There’s no reason for that. If you want sex and she’s not giving it to you, find someone else. DON’T LIE about loving. It’s ridiculous.
Unfortunately for all of us, love is a completely subjective word. It means something different to everyone. Personally, I’m not even sure I know WHAT it means any more, with regard to a romantic relationship. Or if I’m going to feel comfortable hearing it in the near future.
But I can tell you one thing. I was completely and totally in LOVE with stealing internets from my neighbors. Yesterday, after at least eight months, my neighbors (assholes) secured their Wi-Fi. THEY PASSWORD PROTECTED IT AND LOCKED ME OUT. I thought we were friends! I thought they loved me as much as I loved them. But no. They just left me out in the cold. No explanation, no nothing. After EIGHT MONTHS of being together.
I almost cried. Now I’m going to have to…PAY for internets? That just seems wrong.
