Many of us have been in a cycle in our lives during which we go through a series of disposable lovers hoping that the “needle in the haystack” comes out of hiding amongst our ever-growing pile of lovers. Will it happen? Will he or she be “the one” or “the one until the next one”? While casual relationships can be fun and very fulfilling for the short-term, it can get old and empty down the road. Lust heats the blood…and love, keeps it pumping. Lust will pin you to the wall and screw your brains out, but will it hold you close beyond the afterglow?
Sometimes it’s not about the journey, it’s about the people you meet along the way.
Be like a flower in a storm. It may get pummeled by rain, but it absorbs what’s thrown upon it and comes back stronger in the sun. It may get pushed around and battered by the wind; but even with its last moment of life, it leaves a little of itself behind in the next generation renewed and ready to take on the next season.
Life begins as what we are born with, what it will be moving forward depends on what we make it.
Staff writer LeeAnn Yops discusses repeating patterns in dating and relationships.
Last week while I was talking to a friend, he told me that I always go after the same type of person – the unattainable. What is the unattainable, though? It’s not like I’m seeking out my Funky brand poster of Bon Jovi circa ’86 or that boy with the piercing blue eyes I eyed over a cup of WOP at a frat party 12 years ago or even my favorite married man with children. I guess it’s not so much the unattainable, but the unavailable. I’m not talking about unavailable as in celebrity crushes or people in happy marriages with offspring, but unavailable in mindset.
When I was in college I was all about the chase. As soon as a boy showed interest, I was no longer interested in them. As I’ve grown older these feelings aren’t quite the same, but they are still there in some form. These feelings are kind of like buying that skirt that’s on sale that is a size too small. You know realistically that you will probably never look that good in it, but you buy it, think about the “what if” and then it sits in your closet for way too long not being thrown out until the next time you move. I want to change this mentality, but how?
How do you break the pattern of going after the same person? You know what you like. For example, I love Peanut Butter Cap’n Crunch, but does it love me back? Nope. It just likes to add on to my fat ass. I don’t need that extra baggage. So do I try the bland, fiber cereal knowing I’ll probably just want to douse it in sugar? No, because it’s not about going after something completely different, but finding that common ground between things you can tolerate and things you want to try. Do I become an astronaut and seek a widowed vet? I’ve never dated someone like that before. I don’t know.
As much as I’d like to believe I don’t have a type, I do. My friends tell me to keep doing what I’m doing and something will eventually fall into place. Does that mean you have to make a bunch of crappy choices leading up to it? Sure, but how many is the real question. I honestly feel a part of me will always be attracted to the unavailable. The chase can be fun, but when it comes down to it I think a lot of those chases were because I was unavailable too. I’m not getting any younger. Maybe I’ll take the advice of MJ and start with that (wo)man in the mirror. He may have been talking about starving children, but I’m talking about my starving dating life. What’s more important here? If anything, I need to learn to make that change or force my friend to sing “Man in the Mirror” to himself in the mirror again. It’s very entertaining.
Staff writer Dallas Fitzgerald shares the story of his first wedding anniversary.
On Monday, my wife and I celebrated our first wedding anniversary. After a hectic week, which included wicked New Year’s Day hangovers for both of us and a major family crisis that caused her to spend Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday in St. Paul, we were both looking forward to a nice, relaxing evening of dinner and romance.
We had received a gift card to the Cheesecake Factory for Christmas, so we decided to use it. We got in the car, and as we pulled out of the driveway and started to accelerate down the road, the car started shaking, and I knew we had just shredded the transmission. We pulled into a gas station and headed back home.
As I drove the impotent vehicle back to our apartment, I did what any self-respecting male would do: I screamed every swear word I could think of, pounded on the steering wheel like an angry chimpanzee and told my wife to put on her seatbelt because I was going to drive the piece of shit car into a telephone pole.
When we got back to the apartment, I got out of the car in a fury and slammed the door shut as hard as I could. Then I opened the back door just so I could slam it shut even harder. I finished by spitting on the window and kicking the car until I had put a golf-ball sized dent in the driver’s-side door. Then, I was done.
I followed my wife into the apartment where she informed me that she wasn’t going anywhere with me if I was going to act crazy all night. By this time, I had settled down a bit and was merely pacing back and forth in our living room. My wife proceeded to tell me that we would take the car in on Tuesday and that everything would be fine. Her reassuring words caused me to come back to baseline, and I told her that I was sorry for the blow-up and was ready to go eat because by this time I was starving.
We went to the restaurant and had a nice dinner despite the screaming child sitting right next to us. On any other day, the crying baby might have annoyed me to the point of requesting a different table, but I had expended all my negative energy cursing and kicking the car and figured this was the universe punishing me for my tantrum, so I just accepted it and enjoyed my meal.
After dinner, we had to stop at Wal-Mart for a few things—groceries, Q-tips, pillows and toilet paper. As we were walking through the store, we passed the greeting card aisle, and my wife looked at me and exclaimed, “Oh my God! We didn’t even get each other anniversary cards!”
It was true. The past week had been so busy that we had both forgotten to get anniversary cards for each other.
“I have an idea,” I replied. “Let’s each pick out an anniversary card, and we can give them to each other and read them right here in the store. I mean, think about it, we would only read them once and throw them away anyway, right?”
She agreed, and we both started shuffling through anniversary cards. My wife found a card for me first; I was still searching.
“Hey no peeking!” she pulled the card close to her body, protecting it from my furtive glances.
Finally, I found a card for her.
“Happy anniversary, sweetheart,” I said, handing her the card that I had chosen.
“Happy anniversary,” she replied, handing me the one that she had found.
Then, we both stood there in the middle of Wal-Mart, reading our anniversary cards, which we had no intention of paying for.
“Awwww, that’s sweet,” she said after reading the card I had given to her.
“Yours is nice too,” I replied.
“Well, look at the bright side,” she said, taking both cards in her hands and turning them over to look at their prices. “We saved twelve bucks.”
“Yup,” I responded, “And instead of throwing them away, we can put them back on the shelf for someone else to purchase.”
She inspected the card rack, trying to find where each card came from. When she did, she tucked them nicely back amongst their clones. Then, glancing around to make sure that no one was looking, she pulled me close to her.
“I love you,” she said softly.
“I love you too,” I replied, and we shared a semi-passionate anniversary kiss in the middle of Wal-Mart’s greeting card aisle.
When we got home from Wal-Mart, we were both pretty tired, and she had to work early on Tuesday morning, so we put on our pajamas and went into the bedroom to watch TV before falling asleep.
“I think we should make that anniversary card thing a tradition. Every year, for our anniversary, we should go to Wal-Mart and pick out cards for each other, read them right there and put them back,” I suggested.
“That sounds like a good idea,” she replied. “But you know what else we should make a tradition?”
“What?” I asked, looking into her suddenly lascivious brown eyes and already knowing the answer.
She gracefully rolled over on top of me and started straddling me.
“Hmmmm,” I said. “That sounds good too.”
A night that began with angry passion ended with a very different sort of passion, and as we lay in the bed naked, I looked over at her and said, “That turned out to be a happy anniversary after all.”
Staff writer Rigby Rat talks about the huge desire for oral sex as part of sexual intimacy.
One day, a good friend of mine called and invited me to dinner. We hadn’t seen one another for several years. I cleared my schedule and around seven-thirty that evening found myself a block from the Empire State Building happily hugging my dinner companion. But before heading uptown, my friend hooked his arm in mine and directed me toward a three-story building he had just purchased. “You’re kidding. You bought a business?” I said. He replied, “No, I didn’t buy a business. I’m starting one. Wait until you see this.”
Minutes later, I stood inside what was to become not only one of New York City’s most popular Gentleman’s Clubs, but one of the few clubs that would survive the mayor’s aggressive crackdown on adult establishments. After taking a tour of the building, I asked my friend if I could interview his strippers and their clientele for an exposé I wanted to write on why men buy intimacy. He said, “Go for it.” So, I did. I spent two years – one evening each month – interviewing strippers and their clientele.
One of the questions I asked the men was: Describe your perfect night of love-making. Seventy-one out of eighty men all answered that their perfect night of love-making would start with oral sex. Here is what some of them said:
“My perfect night of love-making… we would have oral sex first, then intercourse, spanking, and kissing.”
“The perfect night of love-making will start with her going down on me and then me going down on her. Oral sex first. For both of us.”
“My perfect night of love-making would start off with oral sex. Both doing each other, then leading off to other stuff.”
Ladies, what does that tell you? That almost 89 % of the men I interviewed enjoy/want oral sex. And they want oral sex before intercourse! So what’s a dating couple – who haven’t gotten sexually intimate yet – to do? Communicate. You men who want oral sex, remember, communication always precedes sexual intimacy. Meaning, discuss with her what you like weeks BEFORE you get naked. Ladies, this is the time for you to respond, “I enjoy giving head” or “I have never given head, you’ll have to teach me” or “I don’t give head. Never will.” Those ladies who “never will”, just remember the above statistics and think about reconsidering. Why? Because it is beautiful and satisfying to be with someone that you can make love to not only with your body, but with your mouth.
And, guys, just remember, true sexual intimacy doesn’t lie between the covers of men’s magazines, nor can it be found in a Gentleman’s Club. It lies between the bed sheets… as long as you make honesty, respect, and communication your priority. With those three elements in place, then love, desire, and sexual intimacy will never diminish in intensity.