Being single in itself isn’t so bad, often it’s a fabulous affair, but when you are sick and tired of being alone and decide to get out there and look for somebody with whom to share takeout bills and pregnancy scares. The process for finding a suitable candidate, along with all the rules, regulations and expectations, quickly makes us think that the concept of ‘dating’ was invented by some heinous school teacher. Within the dos and don’ts, the when to call and the how many dates before we rip clothes off - dating, in all its spender, has become an art! How exactly do we win the game? Or for that matter learn how to play it?
Of all the phases of courtship, dating is undoubtedly the most complex, variable and failure-prone. Dating is one of two things; "Either it's about trying to get to the next level or it's about trying to get laid" says model Janice Dickinson, author of Check, Please! Dating, Mating and Extricating. It is bounded on the front end by the ‘pickup’ and bounded at the back end with the horizontal hanky panky.
Unlike its complicated meaty between, the beginning and the end are easy as long as you got the basic moves down – which shouldn’t be too hard, for these behaviours are half instinctive and don’t show a lot of variability, comparatively speaking. Men and women have been picking up and bedding each other since the Bronze Age – but dating, it’s been through numerous dizzying changes, brought on by the second order effects of changes like the automobile and the (want sex not babies) contraceptive pill.
Perhaps it’s not so surprising that leading-edge cultures seem to be showing a tendency to seriously compress the dating phase, shifting a lot of the getting-to- know-you stuff into either pre-pickup social interaction or the early stages of the sexual relationship. Classic first dates are declining and the blind date, long a staple of comedy routines, seems to be on its way out.
Within the same trend, labelling relationships has become oh-so-passé. Dating is no longer black and white formality; it is convoluted with different relational phases which, even to us, remain constantly elusive. We are left to play the waiting game until somebody takes pity and throws us a definition bone or we are forced to ask the “where’s this going?” question. While sometimes it may take no more than a few days (even hours) for your potential Mr/Mrs Right to declare that they want to date/marry/take you home to meet the parents. Other times, it takes an eternity just to get them to utter the "L" word, let alone pluck up the courage to accept the validity that you are in fact a couple after years of dating. Even worse, is the ‘can we be or are we more than friends?’ debate, one of the most irksome battles of singleton.
But are we giving up to soon on dating altogether - happier to dream than be disappointed? Already many of us have thrown in the towl to embrace a seeminly loveless existance, at least until things pick up or somebody resuces us from our self inflicted deprivation. Ok yes, sometimes you do have to kiss a lot of toads to find one that turns into something worth dating. But that doesn’t mean we should throw our hands up in defeat or bury our heads in a tub of ice-cream, moaning pitifully. As they say, if first you don’t succeed try try again! Or better yet, go bi, you’ll double your chances!
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Sunday, September 7, 2008
IS THREE THE MAGIC NUMBER?
Fast forward through almost any porn movie, and a threesome seems like a fine way for bored co-eds, drunken neighbors or PTA members to pass the time. But in the harsh light of reality can the threesome truely find success?
Since the 90’s they have become the new in vogue, the alpha dog of the sexual fantasy scene, the beast with three backs and if you’re not having them, you’re supposed to be, allegedly?
In its most profound description, the three-way is a high-end expression of the possibilities of the human heart, a testament to our ability to share our love and nurture each others sexual desires. On the other hand, is it just about banging the two for one? Sandwiching ourselves, for ego, for sexual discovery?
Everybody has their own explanation, they’ve done it, know somebody who did, saw three people about to do it or like most of the population are only obtaining it view rental or download. Needless to say, the threesome, once taboo but now so very cool, has exploded onto the cultural radar. Saturating our already soaked society with the need to consider a third; no matter whether it’s an extra Krispy Kream, a t-shirt or sexual partner.
Lad mags, as I like to call them and their ‘no seriously this isn’t porn’ cousins, consistently glorify, even worship the notion of having two females in the sack (preferably bisexual nymphomaniacs). “It’s the ultimate compliment to a man’s pulling power” one male friend of mine exclaimed. But is it just a male fascination with two women? Or is its popularity a richly fabricated fantasy facade that women have been conditioned to consider to feel desirable?
The idea of a supporting cast of two women and one man is everywhere, from bar talk to advertising, buying nicely into the assumption that all women should be inherently bisexual or can at least, be talked into being so, but straight men should remain straight.
However in the spirit of cohesion, I was pleased to discover that the two male to one female ratio is finally taking off after a sluggish start. While women may have a preference for an attractive stranger in a FFM threesome, men by far will only consider a MFM threesome if it’s done with a good friend. There is no interaction for heterosexual men however - they still fear the crossing of the swords.
When it comes to what type of threesome is superlative, it all comes down to doing it with people you don’t really care for. Like sex buddies, threesomes are best done with acquaintances or mutual friends to ensure a successful outcome.
When it comes to relationships however, the ménage a trios involves one of the trickiest of numbers. No matter how ready you think you are? Can you really handle it?
Like shoes and tires, relationships are strictly a party of two. When a third person is thrown into the lollie bag mix of love and feelings there can be disastrous consequences - jealousy, broken hearts and betrayal. People may fool themselves into believing that a threesome will help slove the problem of a sexual lag, but by no means is it the best solution. In many cases the threesome becomes a catalyst for a break-up, tending to reveal peoples true adgendas. Whether it be boredom, a lobby to sleep with a partners attractive friend or a means of skirting issues about sexuality. Its a dirty dirty business.
But as we hop excitedly into a sextually permissive realm of possibility, there is no doubt that the menage a trois will continue to hold a seemingly permanent cultural sway over our collective imagination. Championed in both low budget and box-office frat comedies and Robert Heinlein novels, the threesome will certainly continue to rise to the occasion.
One may be the loneliest number; two can be as bad as one,
but three, it’s just plain fun!
Since the 90’s they have become the new in vogue, the alpha dog of the sexual fantasy scene, the beast with three backs and if you’re not having them, you’re supposed to be, allegedly?
In its most profound description, the three-way is a high-end expression of the possibilities of the human heart, a testament to our ability to share our love and nurture each others sexual desires. On the other hand, is it just about banging the two for one? Sandwiching ourselves, for ego, for sexual discovery?
Everybody has their own explanation, they’ve done it, know somebody who did, saw three people about to do it or like most of the population are only obtaining it view rental or download. Needless to say, the threesome, once taboo but now so very cool, has exploded onto the cultural radar. Saturating our already soaked society with the need to consider a third; no matter whether it’s an extra Krispy Kream, a t-shirt or sexual partner.
Lad mags, as I like to call them and their ‘no seriously this isn’t porn’ cousins, consistently glorify, even worship the notion of having two females in the sack (preferably bisexual nymphomaniacs). “It’s the ultimate compliment to a man’s pulling power” one male friend of mine exclaimed. But is it just a male fascination with two women? Or is its popularity a richly fabricated fantasy facade that women have been conditioned to consider to feel desirable?
The idea of a supporting cast of two women and one man is everywhere, from bar talk to advertising, buying nicely into the assumption that all women should be inherently bisexual or can at least, be talked into being so, but straight men should remain straight.
However in the spirit of cohesion, I was pleased to discover that the two male to one female ratio is finally taking off after a sluggish start. While women may have a preference for an attractive stranger in a FFM threesome, men by far will only consider a MFM threesome if it’s done with a good friend. There is no interaction for heterosexual men however - they still fear the crossing of the swords.
When it comes to what type of threesome is superlative, it all comes down to doing it with people you don’t really care for. Like sex buddies, threesomes are best done with acquaintances or mutual friends to ensure a successful outcome.
When it comes to relationships however, the ménage a trios involves one of the trickiest of numbers. No matter how ready you think you are? Can you really handle it?
Like shoes and tires, relationships are strictly a party of two. When a third person is thrown into the lollie bag mix of love and feelings there can be disastrous consequences - jealousy, broken hearts and betrayal. People may fool themselves into believing that a threesome will help slove the problem of a sexual lag, but by no means is it the best solution. In many cases the threesome becomes a catalyst for a break-up, tending to reveal peoples true adgendas. Whether it be boredom, a lobby to sleep with a partners attractive friend or a means of skirting issues about sexuality. Its a dirty dirty business.
But as we hop excitedly into a sextually permissive realm of possibility, there is no doubt that the menage a trois will continue to hold a seemingly permanent cultural sway over our collective imagination. Championed in both low budget and box-office frat comedies and Robert Heinlein novels, the threesome will certainly continue to rise to the occasion.
One may be the loneliest number; two can be as bad as one,
but three, it’s just plain fun!
THE LOVE/SEX CONFUSION COMPLEX
The moral of the story here ladies is don’t confuse a man wanting to sleep with you with actually liking you. This warning may come as a bit of a shock to some women, but considering that we’re not very good at separating the two, I wouldn’t suggest taking it lightly.
Although Modern women have certainly risen to the occasion in their act of trying to be just like men, there is always one area in which we with constantly fall short and that is trying to be a man when it comes to the bedroom. The reason, simple as it may be, is we are not built like that.
Most women – especially the feminists among us – would vehemently disagree. Women have finally got the chance to do whatever they like, including treating men like pogo sticks with no expectations of eggs and bacon in the morning or intent to see the guy ever again after a mind-blowing (or lackluster) sex fest. And why not sample the goods without emotional investment?
It’s a noble cause but its harder to pull off than it seems. The problem lies with a little hormone called oxytocin, one in which, according to psychiatrists at the Califonia School of Professional Psychology, simulates maternal behavious. Dictating the fact that once we have done the horizonal hanky panky with a man, we’re going to want to have his babies whether we like it or not.
While the man beneath us, behind us or on top of us happily surfs cloud nine of the pleasure hormone, we are left with the dubbed “cuddle hormone”, one that simulates an emotional connection which makes Mr.Ordinary become the Mr.Oh-So-Freaking-Fabulous, no matter the level of fun we are having
In other words, women will often confuse the fact that a man lusting for the key to their underwear is also really into them. And the more they see their bonk buddy, the more they fall in love with him, and expect him to be doing the same. So beware gents only in it for the casual fling, your walking a fine line to descruction if intentions are not crystal clear.
This is where the confusion sets in, women expect, men disappoint, a vicious cycle of misunderstood intentions. Women cannot help forming some kind of attachment from doing the deed and men cannot help enjoying sex with no emotional investment.
Nobodys to blame, except perhaps that damned homone.
IS CHIVALRY AND ROMANCE DEAD?
The reality of romance to many disgruntled singletons and coupledoms can be about as tacky and perishable as a bunch of petrol station carnations sitting next to the magazine rack of porno. While the age of chivalry, that of patriarchal zeal and heroic enterprise, seems to be almost extinguished completely by our bright lighted big city and world of opportunity.
But the question remains, when did chivalry and romance decide to take the sidelines and sit the dating game out? And whilst looking at this bemoaned loss of it in society, I couldn’t help but wonder, were we as women, the ever nostalgic romantic idealists responsible for its demise when we burnt our bras and pulled the sword of equality from its historically misogynistic stone prison?
Perhaps it is so, for since the 1848 shedding of the feminine shackles of inferiority; we have emerged in the modern age as Feminzians. A new breed of super warrior princesses, lean, mean, emasculating machines in power suits and Porsches beating our beautiful bosoms and roaring mightily to prove that although it might be a mans world, women can rule the universe.
But alas it seems that in our blind hunger for equality, we did not see the fatally double-edged nature of our freedom and so along with all the new ideals we longed for - independence, empowerment and individuality - came a complete rejection of all things feminine. Women as the traditional gatekeepers and pacesetters collectedly dropped their standards; we accepted jokes instead of ballads, emails instead of love songs and engaged in a little commitment-free, purely physical relationships without expectations. We thus opened the door for the treatment our behaviour elicited and when males are given the option to bypass courtship and gain entry without much effort, it takes no great Holmesian deduction to discover why proper treatment and respect has fallen by the wayside.
There was no catalyst or inciting incident to explain the gradual changes that society underwent and although the independence of women is most defiantly a contributing factor, it was not necessarily the murderess. Chivalry ebbed away, old, worn and dusty from non-use, because it was no longer asked to exist and in its stead was born a sort of organic common courtesy that remains today in the hearts of good wholesome men and upper-crust Harvard graduates. Romance on the other hand, has proved itself versatile to the modern world; it is all about the intention behind the act so ultimately it will never die off completely.
The problem resides however that this acclimatization to a sugar- fee existence, a romance-chivalry-less diet as such has made us intolerant of the real thing. Call it post-modern conditioning, but the subjugation of an unfathomable amount of imitation romance (ass pinching, insincerity, phoney sweet nothings whispered to gain key access, flowers to cover infidelity) and forced, formulised romance aka Valentine’s Day. The post-modern cynic is quick to rise within us and as a sort of defence mechanism to rapidly dismiss romantic gestures as overbearing or cliché corny.
But it seems it can be something we can learn to digest even though we may continually consider romance, like chivalry, well gone and dead - especially after bad dates and tasteless pick up lines from people not on the same attractive level as ourselves - but like love, it continues to be wrapped in mystery and hidden away to permeate the random seconds of life when least expected.
But the question remains, when did chivalry and romance decide to take the sidelines and sit the dating game out? And whilst looking at this bemoaned loss of it in society, I couldn’t help but wonder, were we as women, the ever nostalgic romantic idealists responsible for its demise when we burnt our bras and pulled the sword of equality from its historically misogynistic stone prison?
Perhaps it is so, for since the 1848 shedding of the feminine shackles of inferiority; we have emerged in the modern age as Feminzians. A new breed of super warrior princesses, lean, mean, emasculating machines in power suits and Porsches beating our beautiful bosoms and roaring mightily to prove that although it might be a mans world, women can rule the universe.
But alas it seems that in our blind hunger for equality, we did not see the fatally double-edged nature of our freedom and so along with all the new ideals we longed for - independence, empowerment and individuality - came a complete rejection of all things feminine. Women as the traditional gatekeepers and pacesetters collectedly dropped their standards; we accepted jokes instead of ballads, emails instead of love songs and engaged in a little commitment-free, purely physical relationships without expectations. We thus opened the door for the treatment our behaviour elicited and when males are given the option to bypass courtship and gain entry without much effort, it takes no great Holmesian deduction to discover why proper treatment and respect has fallen by the wayside.
There was no catalyst or inciting incident to explain the gradual changes that society underwent and although the independence of women is most defiantly a contributing factor, it was not necessarily the murderess. Chivalry ebbed away, old, worn and dusty from non-use, because it was no longer asked to exist and in its stead was born a sort of organic common courtesy that remains today in the hearts of good wholesome men and upper-crust Harvard graduates. Romance on the other hand, has proved itself versatile to the modern world; it is all about the intention behind the act so ultimately it will never die off completely.
The problem resides however that this acclimatization to a sugar- fee existence, a romance-chivalry-less diet as such has made us intolerant of the real thing. Call it post-modern conditioning, but the subjugation of an unfathomable amount of imitation romance (ass pinching, insincerity, phoney sweet nothings whispered to gain key access, flowers to cover infidelity) and forced, formulised romance aka Valentine’s Day. The post-modern cynic is quick to rise within us and as a sort of defence mechanism to rapidly dismiss romantic gestures as overbearing or cliché corny.
But it seems it can be something we can learn to digest even though we may continually consider romance, like chivalry, well gone and dead - especially after bad dates and tasteless pick up lines from people not on the same attractive level as ourselves - but like love, it continues to be wrapped in mystery and hidden away to permeate the random seconds of life when least expected.
CHARM MY PANTS OFF, WILL YOU? - THE SCIENCE OF FLIRTATION
How is it that some people can ooze irresistible charm while others are about as dull as a broken pencil? Skills in the art of flirtation are partly, and although this topic has been trivialized, even demonized, this coquettish behaviour indulged by us everyday, just so happens to be an essential part of the human species’ progression.
Beyond our surface façades of flirting, is something a little biologically deeper: a vital silent language exchanging critical and startling information about our reproductive fitness and attractive genetics. Whether we wink, smile cheekily, give the come-hither look, make a quick eyebrow raise or position our arms to draw the eye to our impressive lower abdomen, pelvic muscles and hips these non-verbal cues indicate we are prepared for physical engagement after initial attraction. Getting sex, in turn, is wholly dependent on attracting attention and being attracted. And flirting is the initial way a person focuses the attention of a specific member of the opposite sex, as a sort of “your hot, maybe later let’s make some babies”.
This universal language of attraction is hardwired into our psyches primarily as natures solution to a problem we all face; a world full of potential mates but which one(s) will we be ultimately letting into our pants. Flirtation is the game we play, a way to test the waters so to speak while we check off a list of our perfect mate criteria. Sometimes through this tumultuous trial and error of social etiquette our interest is reciprocated; other times we cut our losses or idiotically keep on trying until subtle disinterest turns into cruel words and a brisk slap to the face. Men lets face it, are more prone to the latter, having a higher tendency to misconstrue women’s friendly behaviour cues for sexual flirting.
It appears that while we spend most of our life flirting only a small portion of it is intentionally in hopes of inducing romantic overtures, the rest of the time flirting is done with more or less anyone. Primarily, it’s a fun social exchange, however, its also a handy social lubricant, used to help us to reduce the friction of everyday transactions and get something for nothing; a better seat at a restaurant, a skip to the front of the cue, a free drink at the bar, or a way out of a speeding fine.
Watching the antics of sexual negotiation of a master flirt in the full swing in games of flirtatious push and pull, exemplify’s the fact that knowing how to turn your green light on as well as reading the cues of others is vital to pulling in the prey. Think Jude Law in ALFIE, major super-flirt!
So if you believe yourself a boring individual, seemingly always left alone at the bar with about enough gumption to fill a test tube, find a DIY guide and remember flattery gets you everywhere.
Beyond our surface façades of flirting, is something a little biologically deeper: a vital silent language exchanging critical and startling information about our reproductive fitness and attractive genetics. Whether we wink, smile cheekily, give the come-hither look, make a quick eyebrow raise or position our arms to draw the eye to our impressive lower abdomen, pelvic muscles and hips these non-verbal cues indicate we are prepared for physical engagement after initial attraction. Getting sex, in turn, is wholly dependent on attracting attention and being attracted. And flirting is the initial way a person focuses the attention of a specific member of the opposite sex, as a sort of “your hot, maybe later let’s make some babies”.
This universal language of attraction is hardwired into our psyches primarily as natures solution to a problem we all face; a world full of potential mates but which one(s) will we be ultimately letting into our pants. Flirtation is the game we play, a way to test the waters so to speak while we check off a list of our perfect mate criteria. Sometimes through this tumultuous trial and error of social etiquette our interest is reciprocated; other times we cut our losses or idiotically keep on trying until subtle disinterest turns into cruel words and a brisk slap to the face. Men lets face it, are more prone to the latter, having a higher tendency to misconstrue women’s friendly behaviour cues for sexual flirting.
It appears that while we spend most of our life flirting only a small portion of it is intentionally in hopes of inducing romantic overtures, the rest of the time flirting is done with more or less anyone. Primarily, it’s a fun social exchange, however, its also a handy social lubricant, used to help us to reduce the friction of everyday transactions and get something for nothing; a better seat at a restaurant, a skip to the front of the cue, a free drink at the bar, or a way out of a speeding fine.
Watching the antics of sexual negotiation of a master flirt in the full swing in games of flirtatious push and pull, exemplify’s the fact that knowing how to turn your green light on as well as reading the cues of others is vital to pulling in the prey. Think Jude Law in ALFIE, major super-flirt!
So if you believe yourself a boring individual, seemingly always left alone at the bar with about enough gumption to fill a test tube, find a DIY guide and remember flattery gets you everywhere.
SEX MATES
The dating game, as a delicate dance of wits, gestures, poker faces, facades and much bluffed intelligence and bullshit, is hard enough to survive let alone play. And while we jump through the dating hoops of small talk and subtleties trying to ignore the mounting sexual tension which appears to be clouding our intelligence as we shift restlessly on bar stools. We continually wish for an easier way to obtain a sexual fix, something that won’t change the routines of our busy lives but will bring us just the right amount of satisfaction and fulfilment. Without the messiness of emotion and attachment, naturally. No fear, for as this Admiral discovered there is a way.
Lovers without commitment, fuck buddies, the no-strings-attached sex initiative, friends with benefits, booty call arrangements – call it what you want but regardless, it’s the thing to have right now; well, other than the newest ipod.
Sex with friends appears to be the perfect arrangement and the answer to sexually aggravated singletons all over the globe. The no-commitment model allows enough freedom to still dabble in dating but maintains a semi-regular bonk fest to fulfil our primitive needs of sexual release with a person we know and like. And although it may never be as passionate as sleeping with a new somebody, sex friends are, let’s face it, a safer, more sensible option than sleeping with strangers. Helping to avoid those cringing moments when in the harsh morning light you realise that the stranger next to you seems to look nothing like the person you took home last night.
Now just to make myself clear, I’m using the term ‘friends’ loosely, for lovers can never truly be friends. Sex demands a thorough coating of fantasy to make it tasteful and therefore you can never be your complete honest self with somebody you have seen naked and vice versa. Think about it! Like nudists playing ping pong, in sex there are very strict rules of make-believe. Even animals know this: lions fluff there manes to seem bigger, peacock’s parade campily in carnival costume; flamingos do a kind of fandango – voile, its sex!
Sex with friends in simplest terms means sex with somebody you’re attracted to but not in love with, and aren’t likely in any case, to be life long friends with either once your shenanigans are over. You will never give them advice, buy them thoughtful presents or take them home to meet the parents. You both will know but will never actually say that you are merely using each other as time fillers until something better comes along.
So whether you’re a proclaimed nymphomaniac, commitment-phobic love cynic or just looking for some part-time recreational activity to replace your lacklustre visits to the gym, indulge yourself and find the joy in having a ‘toy’: unwrap it, examine it, position it, discard it and pick it up again when it suits.
Lovers without commitment, fuck buddies, the no-strings-attached sex initiative, friends with benefits, booty call arrangements – call it what you want but regardless, it’s the thing to have right now; well, other than the newest ipod.
Sex with friends appears to be the perfect arrangement and the answer to sexually aggravated singletons all over the globe. The no-commitment model allows enough freedom to still dabble in dating but maintains a semi-regular bonk fest to fulfil our primitive needs of sexual release with a person we know and like. And although it may never be as passionate as sleeping with a new somebody, sex friends are, let’s face it, a safer, more sensible option than sleeping with strangers. Helping to avoid those cringing moments when in the harsh morning light you realise that the stranger next to you seems to look nothing like the person you took home last night.
Now just to make myself clear, I’m using the term ‘friends’ loosely, for lovers can never truly be friends. Sex demands a thorough coating of fantasy to make it tasteful and therefore you can never be your complete honest self with somebody you have seen naked and vice versa. Think about it! Like nudists playing ping pong, in sex there are very strict rules of make-believe. Even animals know this: lions fluff there manes to seem bigger, peacock’s parade campily in carnival costume; flamingos do a kind of fandango – voile, its sex!
Sex with friends in simplest terms means sex with somebody you’re attracted to but not in love with, and aren’t likely in any case, to be life long friends with either once your shenanigans are over. You will never give them advice, buy them thoughtful presents or take them home to meet the parents. You both will know but will never actually say that you are merely using each other as time fillers until something better comes along.
So whether you’re a proclaimed nymphomaniac, commitment-phobic love cynic or just looking for some part-time recreational activity to replace your lacklustre visits to the gym, indulge yourself and find the joy in having a ‘toy’: unwrap it, examine it, position it, discard it and pick it up again when it suits.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
