Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: cheating, disillusionment, infidelity, life, love, marriage, men, random, relationships, sex, thoughts, women, work
Last night’s drink: Louis Jadot Beaujolais
Helen is a coworker that I spend a significant amount of time with – especially since, at least once a month, we drive six hours together to and from Indio. Helen is in her 40’s, from a traditional Mexican heritage, in her second marriage to a Chinese man who cooks American/French fusion cuisine, and the mother of two daughters about my age. Helen is the kind of person that likes to give advice, and I’m the kind of person that likes to hear people’s opinions - sometimes, I’ll ask her insubstantial questions just to hear what she’ll say.
Last week, I was venting to Helen about my disheartening experiences with marriage, as of late. It seems like, for every four married men I meet, three are having affairs.
“That’s about right,” she said. “Most married people these days cheat. It’s rare to find monogamy in marriage.”
Her response took me aback, but the opinions that followed were pretty interesting.
The people who were more likely to cheat, she said, were the ones who were wealthy, or who wanted to appear to be. This includes young upstarts with nice cars and crappy apartments, and established men with fat nest eggs and even fatter heads. Having multiple women is like a luxury to them – a logical continuation of the affluent lifestyle they seek. It really isn’t anything personal against their wives – it’s just another investment in being the part…maybe even the part their wives expect them to play.
In some cases, men and women in these situations both cheat – or they may even have an understanding between the two of them that there will be others outside of their marriage. Let’s face it – nobody’s perfect. Neither is marriage, from what I’ve heard. If your sole purpose for getting married is to have a comfortable living or simply a body to come home to, then it may make perfect sense for you to get married first, and then find your intimate connections after.
Another reason people cheat, Helen said, is to network professionally. Whether you’re trying to make a name or simply move up, no one can deny that sex sells. Mixers, conferences, professional organizations or even boards – these things bring people together from different tenticles of an industry for their own benefit, and the benefit of the product. In general, the more professional “connections” you have, the more successful and reputable you appear to be.
So you have a lot of like-minded people in one place, oftentimes drinking, and meeting under seemingly serendipitous terms, and it creates all the chemicals needed to produce explosive connections. These types of connections between men and women can feel very emotional and intimate, but it’s more than likely that heterosexual males are having the same connections with eachother. Work or no, it’s exciting to meet people you connect with. The difference is that the prior example will likely lead to sex at some point – marriage or otherwise. If a man can have a professional and a personal conquest in one, why wouldn’t he say yes? It’s twice the food for his ego, with only half the work.
In both the “luxury” and the “success” perspectives, the affair is a way to build yourself up with more instantaneous gratification than, say, honor and hard work will proffer. Plus, guys get to feel like they have a modern day harem, and what guy doesn’t love that image.
The thing to keep in mind, though, is that the root of the word “harem” actually means “protected” in Arabic, and in other early languages. This is because the harem of classical terms (the original harem) was meant to protect the women, not to exploit them.
Isn’t that the reason why you guys are bigger and stronger?
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: debate, life, men, random, relationships, sex, thoughts, women
Last night’s drink: Coffee.
I’ve been writing up a storm, lately, with school and some mild freelancing – both of which I am excited and grateful to be doing. Of course, it also means that my mind is on overdrive, which is why last night, when I received a comment from “Jack” on my Spatulesque post, I ended up writing a response that was long enough to be a post in and of itself.
As such, I’ve decided to dedicate this post to Jack, and Roissy, and “The Elements of Argument,” which is the textbook from my composition class last month. So, without further ado…
Jack said:
“Um, I saw your post on Roissy’s blog. It is unbelievable that you think men shouldn’t ask women about their sexual history. Women, like you, who are opposed to that are usually promiscuous and deceitful. I would have no problem being honest with a girl about myself, and you should have no problem being that way with a man. In this day and age of AIDS and other STD’s, both partners should be able to know the other’s previous activities to protect themselves accordingly. It has nothing to do with insecurity or not liking sex. But a man has a right to know if the girl he is dating is a slut, or if she is a respectable girl. He can better make a decision about their future accordingly. And by the way, there are ways to figure out if a girl is being honest, as well.
So I came to your blog and you appear to be a thoughtful and attractive girl who can write pretty well. I just thinkyour opinion on asking sexual history is ridiculous, and that both women and men should make a habit of doing that. There are already too many STD’s around.”
My response is as follows:
Hi, Jack.
Thanks for the comment, the compliments, and the implicit flash judgement. However, I think you misread what I wrote. Just to recap:
“It seems to me that if a guy is obsessed with the notches of a girl, they are either:
a) a pervert;
b) insecure about themselves and/or their own sexual prowess;
c) considering sex a recreational sport, and trying to figure out if it’s safe to play without protective gear; or
d) don’t or can’t enjoy sex, and want to show they are above it by putting down the other people that do.
There’s nothing worse than a guy who wants to talk about your sexual history. Not only is it pathetic, intrusive, and the ultimate buzzkill, but it’s completely irrelevant.
If you’re just casually fucking a girl, then that’s on you to take the responsibility for that risk. If you want a relationship, and you can’t trust her to take care of her sexual health and abstain from sleeping around with other men, the issues you need to deal with are in the present, not in her past.”
http://roissy.wordpress.com/2008/01/28/it-counts/
–
First of all, I’m not saying that men shouldn’t ask women about their sexual history – I’m giving my opinion that it is a misguided question. Your comment above says that you ask that question to find out if a woman is:
a) promiscuous; b) deceitful; c) a carrier of STDs; d) a respectable girl (as opposed to a slut); e) worthy of a committed relationship (that is what you mean by future here, correct?)
Asking a woman about the number of guys she’s slept with doesn’t really answer any of those questions. Let me go through this specifically:
a) Promiscuity is defined as having sex indiscriminately. If a woman has sex with one guy without any regard for who he is or what he looks like, she is technically being promiscuous. So, unless you are going to sit there and drill her about every detail of that one guy, simply knowing the number isn’t going to give you a hint about her promiscuity. A woman can have sex with a bunch of guys she has meticulously picked out, and not be promiscuous by definition. If you meant to say “slut” here, then I’d be curious to hear 1) your definition of a slut, 2) why you wouldn’t want to date one, and 3) why you didn’t know she was a slut before you started dating her.
b) Deceit has to do with honesty, I’ve never seen a person’s level of honesty measured in past sexual partners. A person’s honesty is evident in every part of their lives, and can more easily and more accurately be determined through your experiences with their behavior rather than the number of people they’ve gone to bed with before you. A woman who’s only slept with one man is, by virtue, no less deceitful than a woman who’s slept with ten. If you want to ask a woman if she’s ever cheated on a man, I think that’s a relevant question, and will probably help you find your answer more accurately and efficiently.
c) STDs: Of all of the arguments for asking about her history, this is the least compelling. It only takes one partner for a person to contract STDs, so the number of people you sleep with has no bearing on whether or not you’ve put yourself at risk for contracting disease. What -does- matter is how a person takes care of their sexual health. Do they always use protection during sex? Do they get regular checkups? Have they recently been tested? Do they talk to their partners about their habits as well? These activities are more important, and more telling, as to a person’s proclivity to STDs than simply asking the numbers of partners they’ve had. I -highly- recommend you use these questions instead.
d) Respectability is a complex and subjective characteristic that typically involves a combination of personal traits, not just one. However, if number of partners is a dealbreaker for you, that’s your call. My question here, though, is a simple one: what is the number of partners that moves a girl from respectable to not? 2? 5? 10? 20? 50? If you have settled on a number, I’d be interested to know how you arrived at it. I’m willing to bet that most guys who ask this question don’t just have a number in their head and pass or fail a girl based on her answer – I’m willing to bet they’re factoring in a lot of other things, too, in which case, this question becomes cursory, not vital.
e) Committed relationships involve so much more than sex. If you hinge your ability to commit to a woman based on her sexual history, then I defer to my original answer for why that might be.
Any other takers?
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: evolution, life, love, men, random, relationships, sex, thoughts, women
This morning’s drink: SLO Roasted Peruvian (still the best coffee on Earth).
Alright – it’s time for me to make the announcement that some of you may have already suspected would come. Big Josh and I are a couple.
The evolution of our relationship began with a post I wrote back in November, and at the time I wasn’t expecting it to come this far. In fact, I was expecting it to die during Vegas, for a number of reasons. Even just last week, I had this feeling that it was all just my imagination, or the product of some poorly placed trust. But these last few days have made me start to believe that it’s true. And that it’s good. And it’s freaking me out.
It’s not freaking me out in a bad way, like I want to bolt. But it is giving me that anxious, spastic sort of spell where I start trying to predict the future. I can sum up my biggest relationship-future fear with the scene in “Look Who’s Talking,” where Kirstie Alley is smoking in the kitchen with last night’s mascara under her eyes, the kids have spaghetti and lettuce all over their faces, and John Travolta is making farting noises and wearing a stained wifebeater. Relationships, and the people in them, never stop evolving – but what determines how and where the forks in the road come to be?
I think the first influence relates to each person’s goals. I want to have a career that I love, and a life that keeps me stimulated. Once I feel those things are secured, I’ll consider the whole baby thing. He needs to have goals, too, so that both people have things that keep them on track and centered in their own minds. Two people have to be centered in themselves before they can balance a relationship – and yes, this is different than being self-centered.
The second influence relates to principles – you have to know where you draw the line. Admittedly, this has taken me a long time to get to, but I’m definitely getting there. You don’t think Jenn came up with her list of dealbreakers and warning signs all by herself, now, do you?
The third has to do with sense of humor. Even though the things that make you laugh will change, your sense of humor remains pretty stable. A sense of humor gives you a way to relate, to cope, and to enjoy the world around you, in a relatively simple way. If your humor matches in class, type, and intensity, you can sort of rely on that to float you through sucky times, and to really enjoy the good ones. Otherwise, it’s just very grating.
This is what I know so far, but my relationships to date haven’t exactly been ironclad. I’d be interested, and grateful, to hear some other perspectives on the qualities that keep two people evolving together.
And don’t worry – this will not turn into a mushy gag-blog.
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: babies, dreams, evolution, food, life, literature, love, men, random, sex, thoughts, women
Last night’s drink: Emergen-C.
The hot water is no match for the cold, so the shower will not be hot enough until February, at least.
Cumin in its whole form is so potent, three seeds taste like an entire Indian buffet.
The marmalade has crystalized, so the rinds now taste like candy.
I’m sort of on sensory overload right now. Every flavor, every thought, every emotion or tickle in my throat is consuming me in a gradual way – like a snake swallowing me from the bottom up. Henry Miller is whispering in my ear and my mind is receiving it, masticating, and absorbing the digestable parts. The result is a mind warp where the spread of San Diego looks like a champagne brunch sparkling in the sunlight. I could either order off the menu or walk over to the omelet bar and start kicking the tables over.
Lately, my drug of choice has been the pherormones that won’t leave my pillow, with or without the carrier. Somehow, he is always here when I lay down. We talk about nothing, really, and I file it away. But I wake up with my brain bathed in those invisible hands, and I can’t purge the scent or the visions that come with them. If I’m being honest, though, I haven’t tried.
Evolution is constantly used to explain the present or justify the past. It’s no leap for me, then, to think it can predict the future. If two people have chemistry so strong that their brains completely forfeit control over their bodies, it has to be some primal cue for compatibility. Forget love, trust, upbringing, religion, politics, demeanor, opposites attracting or any of the psychology that flaps its wings around it. I just want to know the physical product of pure, prolonged chemistry.
My guess is that I won’t find out for myself, but I’m inclined to think it’s some sort of baby recipe for divinity. Think of all the naturally perfect one-plus-ones. Honey and peanut butter. Chicken and plum sauce. Coffee and cinnamon. Mozzarella and basil. Chocolate and raspberries. Pecans and brown sugar, carmelized. This wouldn’t just be a love child- it would be Gia covered in cocoa soaking in a buttermilk bath; or Samson dripping with olive oil, tearing apart a garlic baguette.
The say you are what you eat. I bet evolution coined it.
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: facade, life, love, men, random, relationships, sex, thoughts, time, women
Last night’s drink: House merlot at Union Station.
What is the true basis for timing and timelines? When you have projects, you base its timeline on when you need or expect it to be complete. Expectant mothers have a general sense for what their baby will look like in week 20, because experience has indicated the general outline of the process. Each timeline sets milestones and goals, and prescribes or projects the amount of time it will take to get to each, in order for the final outcome to materialize in the most desirable form.
For relationships, there is a certain timeline that everyone sort of knows about, but no one can quite put their finger on. One-night stands typically have a shorter timeline, by virtue of the end goal being sex, and nothing more. The milestones are flirting, touching, kissing, groping, and then, finally, home base.
When you really like someone, though, and the goal is something more permanent, the milestones are more spread out, and the goal is much further down the road. You set rules for when you can call the person, you withhold topics of dinner conversation until the appropriate number of dates has passed. You start to tell people about them gradually, and in more detail. All for the sake of keeping the timeline. Really, all of those things would have happened sooner or later. It’s the speed at which they travel that determines the probability of an ensuing wreck.
So why does the speed make all the difference? It’s no secret that people these days have short attention spans, and a need for instant gratification. But easy come, easy go seems to stick here. If you don’t have to wait for it to blossom and emerge, then it isn’t worth the effort or the call back. Perhaps it’s a matter of proving your stability and your trust.
There are plenty of indicators outside of my relationships which clearly outline my dependability and trustworthiness, but when it comes to love, I get excited. I want to take it out of its box and play with it immediately. Instead of indicating my giddiness and swirly emotions, this inclination comes across more as desperate and psycho. But I’m not boiling bunnies or crouching outside of windows – I just want to talk to them again.
What dictates that the speed of love be slow? When you drive, you may slow down to be cautious. You don’t run with scissors. When you learn things, you practice repeating them slowly at first. Maybe slowing the speed of love helps you to avoid taking the wrong step as you slowly get to know the other person. But if you’re being yourself and you take a wrong step, isn’t that just being honest? Think of all the friends you’ve ever hit it off with immediately – why shouldn’t love be that way?
This is not a promotion for speed dating by any means – if you haven’t heard my experience, I’ll fill you in later. I think it all comes back to this creeping feeling I get that we’re all just taking that Shakespeare qoute to the next level, and truly treating the world as if it were a stage, and we are all actors.
Can someone show me to the Green Room?
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: addiction, alcohol, insanity, life, love, lust, men, personal, sex, thoughts, women
Tonight’s drink: Capsula Viola Galestro.
As I sit here and enjoy a second glass of wine on a Monday night, I start to wonder: How do you know – really know – when you’re addicted to something?
First, I try to identify my current feelings. Yes.. they feel unusual, but when do I ever feel usual? Yes, I get excited thinking about it, but since when did excitement absolutely mean something was the real deal? Yes, it sort of makes everything seem a little bit brighter, but so does glitter. So those are dead ends.
So then, I start to compare these feelings to other feelings I’ve had before. The urgency of wanting it, and the extreme relaxation once it’s been obtained. The way you feel like, if you don’t have it right now you’re going to rip patches of hair from your body and implode. But I feel that way on long car trips when I just want to be home, or when I really -really- have to go to the bathroom. So that can’t be the tell-tale sign, either.
Is it that I think about it during the day, or make sure that I can at least have it within reach when I get home? I could say the same thing about my bed, or my blog, or Milton’s 12 grain bread. I don’t think I’m addicted to those.
Addiction must be more than emotions. Just like love is more than that butterfly feeling in your stomach, or sharing a milkshake. Addiction must be more masochistic… where it hurts if you can’t have it, or you feel like you’d do anything – even kill big crunchy bugs – for it. It must be something that rips you apart inside and then grabs you in an infinite swing and launches you into the blue where no one can touch you. It’s very peaceful. And then, just like that, you’re falling again. And even though it tosses you to oblivion, in Hokusai waves and Oz tornados, you can’t get enough of it. Eventually, it gently sets you down, and you forgive it. Then you forgive yourself. And you vow you’ll never do it again.
Until you do. And it makes you warm. And it makes your eyelashes flutter. It makes you talk nonsense, and smile a lot at work. It makes you suddenly artistic, open, and unafraid. Until the gears start to lurch in their forward motion, all over again.
This must be what addiction is like. And for once, I’m not talking about alcohol.
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: business, culture, evolution, life, machismo, men, random, SEO, sex, thoughts, webhosting, women
Last night’s drink: white wine, followed by Gelato Vero.
The brute force behind Web Hosting Bluebook is a breed of a man that I don’t run into much these days. Years ago, when I went through my exotic, Romance Language days, I dated a couple. But once the Spanish has been spoken to death, the crowing starts to wear you down.
I’m referring to that kind of man who exudes, almost gushes, machismo. Machismo is often considered to be a Fisherian runaway trait – one that overexerts sexuality, even in the face of fitness for survival. Like a peacock’s tail, which is too large to be practical, but gets second looks from the ladies. So while the man with machismo may attract many women with his overt sexuality, in the end it comes back to bite him when he doesn’t get a second date.
This theory on machismo probably doesn’t apply to those cultures that expect machismo from their men, such as the Latin American or other Old World cultures. But I can’t imagine that all women in these cultures are taken over by machismo, unless there is a second, gentler side to uncover. Machismo is overpowering whether it’s the exception or the norm. Like the essence of women, as I wrote about in this post, there is something potent about pure masculinity. In straight doses, it knocks you over. Tempered with a more subtle spice, it becomes simply delicious.
Relative to the brute force mentioned above, I found some evidence of this temperance on his site. Over dinner, this man was agressive and cut-throat; on his site he has tools that cradle even the meekest of bloggers. In conversation, he was confident and hardened to points other than his own; yet his forums embrace discussions and ideas without his direction. This man is barrel-chested and succinctly upkept in his severely manly appearance; but his free WordPress themes are organic and flowing – maybe even a little poetic. And I know he picked him them, becuase they are described on his site as the “Best.”
It makes me wonder what the Fisherian runaway traits are of men in cultures that I haven’t yet explored. Do French men have them? Scandinavian men? African men? Chinese men? Masculinity is definitely open to interpretation, so I would imagine so.
As for the Brute: for the sake of your personal evolution, you should let your site show a little more.
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: facade, infatuation, insecurities, life, love, lust, men, people, random, sex, thoughts, women
This morning’s drink: SLO Roasted Peruvian.
Infatuation is a hole we all slip into every now and then. It feels great for the first few days, until you realize how exhausting and draining the whole charade really is. It’s a fun charade – don’t get me wrong. If you don’t get back in touch with reality in a short time, though, you get slapped with it soon enough.
I call it a hole because it takes you by surprise, and it’s completely situational. If you meet someone and infatuation ensues, it’s foundation is nestled in where it all began. You become infatuated in a bar, it has that sort of vodka flavor. You meet them in a club, it’s got that high energy booty-bump going. If it begins in bookstore, it has that delcious coffee warmth to it. Once infatuation tries to build up into different atmospheres, though, you’re threatening its already shaky structure.
I have the most fun meeting people in bars, because it’s less inhibited and more forgivable. But I have a hard time keeping the infatuation there. I’m not a party girl, but I do act like one when I’m drinking. When I’m sober, though, it’s an impossible act to follow. I’m back to the crocheting and the crosswords, and the cat that’s got my tongue.
A big part of the problem is that I don’t tell people about certain things, because I’m afraid of what their reaction might be. Things like smoking, blogging, music, tarot – even though they are all pretty mainstream. It’s not like I’m some freak in the bedroom that can’t find a guy who likes to be pelted with tomatoes during sex… or something. Nope.. these are your basic insecurities, I suppose. They are completely irrational.
Anyhow, I’m crawling out of the infatuation hole this morning, and having my coffee and my blog before I start the day. I need to get back to me, without all this beeswax of lust and batting eyelashes.
Whoever keeps up wins the magic prize!
Filed under: Daily Specials | Tags: decadence, evolution, fantasies, life, love, men, random, relationships, sex, thoughts, Vegas, women
Last night’s drinks: Grey Goose and lime.
Vegas would be nothing without women. Somewhat of a bold statement, yes, but not really. If Vegas were everything it is minus every single lady employee, it wouldn’t be. It’s that thing about a woman that can’t be bottled and sold. She’s either standing there, or she’s not.
It’s amazing what people – men and women of all sexual orientations – will give to have a woman in their personal space. Money, power, favors, pride, personal safety – whatever the sacrifice, there’s a need for that soft skin, warm scent, and enticing energy to be within reach. It’s not just evolution at work, either – I know many straight women who have felt that pull, and been surprised at the hazy inebriation of a woman’s seduction. As a woman myself, even I don’t know my own strength, but you can bet that some women do.
What if this essence of women is sort of like the active ingredient of love? Like the bleach in your Soft Scrub or the peppermint oil in your gum. On its own, it’s overpowering and maybe even harmful in large doses but, tempered, it is more forgiving and less abrasive. That would explain why women are so universally appealing and, at the same time, so open to scrutiny.
People want love, and they want their love to be “true,” according to their standards. If the essence of love is found in femininity, and you can’t tangibly replicate that essence, the only other option is to create it in your fantasies. So then, you want your fantasy version of this truth to collide with reality. Like the chem lab for catalyzing love, fantasies let you keep trying different ingredients until you get that explosion. So if, in real life, the fantasy doesn’t ring true, the love doesn’t follow… no matter how much they want it to. Desperation for love is everywhere you look, because love simply is not. So women out there are working hard to meet the fantasies, and men are working hard at fantasizing.
I think too much credit has been given to evolution for explaining human behavior. Decadence is hardly an evolutionary quality, yet people are decadent with food, entertainment, alcohol, drugs, sex, and they’re still on top of the food chain. It isn’t a huge leap, then, that they would be decadent in love – but how do they ever get their fill?
I don’t think they do.
