Now-hubby found this somewhere, and sent it to me. So I'm posting it here for the rest of you to giggle at.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Me Tarzan
Now-hubby sent me a text earlier today asking me, "what was that older book you read about 'masculine energy?'" Of course, dear reader, that book is Fascinating Womanhood (which I am seriously surprised has an "official" website).
I had read this book a few years ago because I saw it mentioned on an episode of Wife Swap. (Yes, sometimes I like to watch extremely trashy television shows, want to fight about it?) Besides the hilarious words, "masculine energy," the book is chock full of advice on how to be a real woman. You know, as opposed to just a wooden version of one like Pinocchio or some shit. Which, apparently, being a real woman involves doing things like stretching the budget by sewing your own curtains or clipping coupons before grocery shopping. Oh, and let's not forget blaming yourself if your alcoholic husband beats you. (You're just not trying hard enough, dearie. Did you maybe forget to put make-up on as soon as you woke up so he had something nice to look at when he left for work in the morning? Of course he needs an extra drink after work to deal with your hideous visage. You're going to need extra make-up now to cover that black eye, aren't you?)
In any case, it turns out Now-hubby was asking because he was going to be talking about "The War on Men" tonight during his podcast, and wanted the name of the book so he could reference it. I'm not sure in what way. Like the majority of things people I care about are into but I am not necessarily, I know as little about it as possible.
Since I'm feeling lazy tonight (and I have training stuff I really should be doing instead for a new job), I'll let the following articles do my take-down of the whole thing for me.
From the Washington Post
For a slightly more Swiftian approach, here's one from Salon
I had read this book a few years ago because I saw it mentioned on an episode of Wife Swap. (Yes, sometimes I like to watch extremely trashy television shows, want to fight about it?) Besides the hilarious words, "masculine energy," the book is chock full of advice on how to be a real woman. You know, as opposed to just a wooden version of one like Pinocchio or some shit. Which, apparently, being a real woman involves doing things like stretching the budget by sewing your own curtains or clipping coupons before grocery shopping. Oh, and let's not forget blaming yourself if your alcoholic husband beats you. (You're just not trying hard enough, dearie. Did you maybe forget to put make-up on as soon as you woke up so he had something nice to look at when he left for work in the morning? Of course he needs an extra drink after work to deal with your hideous visage. You're going to need extra make-up now to cover that black eye, aren't you?)
In any case, it turns out Now-hubby was asking because he was going to be talking about "The War on Men" tonight during his podcast, and wanted the name of the book so he could reference it. I'm not sure in what way. Like the majority of things people I care about are into but I am not necessarily, I know as little about it as possible.
Since I'm feeling lazy tonight (and I have training stuff I really should be doing instead for a new job), I'll let the following articles do my take-down of the whole thing for me.
From the Washington Post
For a slightly more Swiftian approach, here's one from Salon
Sunday, November 25, 2012
Being good enough
It's easy after being in "the lifestyle" for awhile to be able to talk the talk and pretend you're like...so over all that monogamous bullshit. You give advice to your friends like, well, duh, why haven't you thought of this way of imaging your relationship? Even if you want to remain monogamous, why haven't you considered honestly discussing your limitations and expectations as far as your relationship is concerned? It's very easy to get self-assured and cocky about the whole thing, and start thinking that you're definitely okay.
The realization that I'm not as all-together as I appear happens when one of my significant others is first expressing interest in another significant other. I take a lot of pride in being the one among some of my acquaintances who has been in an open relationship for the past ten years; who knew she wanted an open relationship since she understood the concept of "relationships" as they were supposed to be formed. And then Now-hubby or Frisbee will casually mention some lady that they've been hanging out or are interested in meeting with and they'll say something like, "she's pretty cool, right?" and I will completely crumble. Not outwardly, of course. I have more self-control than that. But internally I will be more or less a mess for the next few hours that it takes me to rationalize how I feel about them having feelings for somebody else.
It's partly that I wanted open relationships from the get-go. Before I even was in a "relationship" with anybody I understood that this was what I wanted and I wasn't going to be okay with one of those relationships where one partner is poly and the other is mono. So I understood also from the get-go that there was the possibility of somebody I was with expressing interest in somebody else. That's the way I wanted my relationships to function. So it's something that I had to internally work through by myself.
At first, they will say something about another lady being "cool, right?" and my internal monogamous monologue will kick in. In most cases, it will be somebody that I also think is fairly cool, so it's not a question of whether or not their assessment of "coolness" is accurate or not. It's more whether or not her "coolness" is a threat in any way to my "coolness." The usual, "what qualities does she have that are comparably better to my qualities?" argument. (Which, of course, is only my perceived self qualities versus another's...so...automatically skewed.)
A lot of my understanding of how poly works is based on what I think about the relationships I am in in addition to what those who are in relationships with me tell me about their feelings. So that's what I have to go on. And when I am rationalizing another lady's "coolness" in relationship to mine, I tend to come back to the fact that those who I have expressed love for I have also clearly expressed the need to know when they are in love with anybody else. I also think a lot about my "coolness" factor and how it's sort of relieving in a way to not have to be the entirety of everything for somebody all the time. Frisbee or Now-hubby loves me for the qualities I have that mesh with theirs, but it doesn't stop them from having other qualities that might mesh with somebody else. I can't encompass all of them, and that's okay. It's honestly sort of a stress relief to not have to try to be an entirety. Not to say that it means I can slack off on things, because the qualities that they do care about mean enough for me to want to maintain them.
And so this entry isn't an entire wall of text, here's a little ray of sunshine courtesy of the German (he showed me the first of this series, there's quite a few at this point).
The realization that I'm not as all-together as I appear happens when one of my significant others is first expressing interest in another significant other. I take a lot of pride in being the one among some of my acquaintances who has been in an open relationship for the past ten years; who knew she wanted an open relationship since she understood the concept of "relationships" as they were supposed to be formed. And then Now-hubby or Frisbee will casually mention some lady that they've been hanging out or are interested in meeting with and they'll say something like, "she's pretty cool, right?" and I will completely crumble. Not outwardly, of course. I have more self-control than that. But internally I will be more or less a mess for the next few hours that it takes me to rationalize how I feel about them having feelings for somebody else.
It's partly that I wanted open relationships from the get-go. Before I even was in a "relationship" with anybody I understood that this was what I wanted and I wasn't going to be okay with one of those relationships where one partner is poly and the other is mono. So I understood also from the get-go that there was the possibility of somebody I was with expressing interest in somebody else. That's the way I wanted my relationships to function. So it's something that I had to internally work through by myself.
At first, they will say something about another lady being "cool, right?" and my internal monogamous monologue will kick in. In most cases, it will be somebody that I also think is fairly cool, so it's not a question of whether or not their assessment of "coolness" is accurate or not. It's more whether or not her "coolness" is a threat in any way to my "coolness." The usual, "what qualities does she have that are comparably better to my qualities?" argument. (Which, of course, is only my perceived self qualities versus another's...so...automatically skewed.)
A lot of my understanding of how poly works is based on what I think about the relationships I am in in addition to what those who are in relationships with me tell me about their feelings. So that's what I have to go on. And when I am rationalizing another lady's "coolness" in relationship to mine, I tend to come back to the fact that those who I have expressed love for I have also clearly expressed the need to know when they are in love with anybody else. I also think a lot about my "coolness" factor and how it's sort of relieving in a way to not have to be the entirety of everything for somebody all the time. Frisbee or Now-hubby loves me for the qualities I have that mesh with theirs, but it doesn't stop them from having other qualities that might mesh with somebody else. I can't encompass all of them, and that's okay. It's honestly sort of a stress relief to not have to try to be an entirety. Not to say that it means I can slack off on things, because the qualities that they do care about mean enough for me to want to maintain them.
And so this entry isn't an entire wall of text, here's a little ray of sunshine courtesy of the German (he showed me the first of this series, there's quite a few at this point).
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Why I cut my own hair
I came across this article after clicking around from an article on a "female pick-up artist" (read, a moderately attractive woman who wants correlation to equal causation, even though it doesn't) a friend of mine had posted to Facebook. (Quick further explanation on the PUA article: The type of girl who was like, into drama club and D&D in high school so she's going to need like a serious transformation before any dude is going to want to date her.
Luckily, she gets into the PUA thing just around the same time she actually gets some self-confidence. Not that the former didn't contribute to the latter, but not to the ultimate "x, therefore y" that she attributes to it.)
Back to the hair thing. I get told a lot I don't have the right body for my chosen hairstyle. (The closest approximation to it I could actually find without posting a picture of myself.)
But it usually has nothing to do with my weight. It's always just the fact that my body is a woman's body. Women do haircuts like this when they're trying to make some sort of statement (I recently was cutting my hair at Frisbee's for the first time and made a comment about movies like Empire Records where the chick cutting her hair off is always having some sort of emotional crisis). Or they've cut it off for Locks of Love or it's fallen out because of chemo and they're just sort of living with it until they can grow it out again. I think I also get myself into a lot of trouble because I refuse to do things like wear a lot of make-up or jewelry or something to otherwise clearly indicate that I'm a lady person in spite of the haircut.
Invariably I'm told how much prettier I'd look if I let my hair grow out. From people I have just met. That's interesting to me. I don't ever really experience that in any other capacity. People thinking it's okay to comment on a physical aspect of my body and then advise me how I'd look better if I changed it somehow. I did have long hair for awhile - all the way up to my sophomore year of high school and then for one year in college, actually. I wasn't constantly bombarded by people telling me how physically attractive I was just because my hair went past my ears. So it's weird that when my hair's short people think it's necessary to inform me that I'd be much prettier if it was longer.
To the title of this little post. The real reason I cut my own hair? It's because when you go the salon I'm a woman getting a man's haircut, but I still get charged the woman's haircut price. And that's bullshit.
Luckily, she gets into the PUA thing just around the same time she actually gets some self-confidence. Not that the former didn't contribute to the latter, but not to the ultimate "x, therefore y" that she attributes to it.)
Back to the hair thing. I get told a lot I don't have the right body for my chosen hairstyle. (The closest approximation to it I could actually find without posting a picture of myself.)
But it usually has nothing to do with my weight. It's always just the fact that my body is a woman's body. Women do haircuts like this when they're trying to make some sort of statement (I recently was cutting my hair at Frisbee's for the first time and made a comment about movies like Empire Records where the chick cutting her hair off is always having some sort of emotional crisis). Or they've cut it off for Locks of Love or it's fallen out because of chemo and they're just sort of living with it until they can grow it out again. I think I also get myself into a lot of trouble because I refuse to do things like wear a lot of make-up or jewelry or something to otherwise clearly indicate that I'm a lady person in spite of the haircut.
Invariably I'm told how much prettier I'd look if I let my hair grow out. From people I have just met. That's interesting to me. I don't ever really experience that in any other capacity. People thinking it's okay to comment on a physical aspect of my body and then advise me how I'd look better if I changed it somehow. I did have long hair for awhile - all the way up to my sophomore year of high school and then for one year in college, actually. I wasn't constantly bombarded by people telling me how physically attractive I was just because my hair went past my ears. So it's weird that when my hair's short people think it's necessary to inform me that I'd be much prettier if it was longer.
To the title of this little post. The real reason I cut my own hair? It's because when you go the salon I'm a woman getting a man's haircut, but I still get charged the woman's haircut price. And that's bullshit.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Counterpoint
To the previous post, in which it was disputed whether or not men and women can actually get along, or if we're doomed to constantly miscommunicate and be alone because, you know, societal messages and all. (Which is also an interesting heteronormative way to look at things, and implies that maybe gay and lesbian relationships are happy and perfect?)
It's maybe as simple as all this. Which, I know is a lot coming from somebody that has some serious trust issues etc. etc. I think the important thing to take away from this is that you don't have to be completely happy all the time, but you definitely have to be able to advocate for yourself and explain things that don't make you happy. And if you're genuinely unhappy with a lot of things, looking outside of yourself to try and fix it is not the answer.
It's maybe as simple as all this. Which, I know is a lot coming from somebody that has some serious trust issues etc. etc. I think the important thing to take away from this is that you don't have to be completely happy all the time, but you definitely have to be able to advocate for yourself and explain things that don't make you happy. And if you're genuinely unhappy with a lot of things, looking outside of yourself to try and fix it is not the answer.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
Thanks for all the fish
I stumbled upon this gem in the comment section of a Reddit post today.
It reminded me a bit about a conversation the German and I had awhile ago about pink microscopes. He had found a kid's microscope set in a store, but the entire thing was Pepto pink, and specifically marketed to girls. (I think it said something about "magic" on the box, like it wasn't even really science related. Don't worry girls, it won't make you smart or anything.)
On the one hand, it's nice that toy companies are even trying to acknowledge that girls could be interested in things like microscopes. On the other hand, it's incredibly insulting that the only way they've figured out how to do this is to dip everything in a nauseating pink color scheme. Maybe it's just because I'm not as sensitive to it, but I don't ever really see the reverse happening. As in, nobody's taking toys and making them completely blue in the hopes of marketing them specifically to boys. (For an interesting read on the whole gender/color thing, I point you here.)
In any case, there's this really weird idea out there now that since certain people are from Venus, others from Mars, it means that it's completely impossible for either one to understand the other or communicate in any meaningful fashion with each other. Maybe I'm just not that philosophical about the whole thing, but is it really that much of a brainwashing scenario as the original picture implies? It also implies that women who watch porn aren't affected by it at all, or form unrealistic expectations based on that. The picture could just as easily be reversed, with the guy thinking, "where's my fiery but ultimately subservient wife?" and the girl thinking, "where's my 8 inch pleasure stick?" (Yes, blah blah porn objectifies women. So do Disney movies. So does fucking everything ever.) Ultimately, I think it's sort of a cop-out to blame corporate representations of specific gender ethos. It's scapegoating at it's best. Giving either gender a fall back option like that to explain why they're failing is crap.
It reminded me a bit about a conversation the German and I had awhile ago about pink microscopes. He had found a kid's microscope set in a store, but the entire thing was Pepto pink, and specifically marketed to girls. (I think it said something about "magic" on the box, like it wasn't even really science related. Don't worry girls, it won't make you smart or anything.)
On the one hand, it's nice that toy companies are even trying to acknowledge that girls could be interested in things like microscopes. On the other hand, it's incredibly insulting that the only way they've figured out how to do this is to dip everything in a nauseating pink color scheme. Maybe it's just because I'm not as sensitive to it, but I don't ever really see the reverse happening. As in, nobody's taking toys and making them completely blue in the hopes of marketing them specifically to boys. (For an interesting read on the whole gender/color thing, I point you here.)
In any case, there's this really weird idea out there now that since certain people are from Venus, others from Mars, it means that it's completely impossible for either one to understand the other or communicate in any meaningful fashion with each other. Maybe I'm just not that philosophical about the whole thing, but is it really that much of a brainwashing scenario as the original picture implies? It also implies that women who watch porn aren't affected by it at all, or form unrealistic expectations based on that. The picture could just as easily be reversed, with the guy thinking, "where's my fiery but ultimately subservient wife?" and the girl thinking, "where's my 8 inch pleasure stick?" (Yes, blah blah porn objectifies women. So do Disney movies. So does fucking everything ever.) Ultimately, I think it's sort of a cop-out to blame corporate representations of specific gender ethos. It's scapegoating at it's best. Giving either gender a fall back option like that to explain why they're failing is crap.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Nerdcore
Tonight is Star Trek night. Next Gen.
I'd like to begin this post similarly to my post on the Batman movie by saying that I am just a novice nerd in regards to this, so please nobody push your nerd glasses up and get ready to debate me on any of this. Relax.
So...awhile back I had made the allusion to Star Trek being the Playbody of sci-fi, and Star Wars being the Hustler. (You weren't there for that, I did it on my Twitter. It's okay because I'm telling you about it now.)
Tonight as we were watching the episode, "Q-Who?" Now-hubby started commenting about how he likes Star Trek now, but if I had met him when he was younger, I would have had to fight him on the supremacy of Star Wars. To which I replied, "of course, Star Wars is for boys."
My comment stems just a little bit from personal experience (I had a male cousin who I watched Star Wars with back in the day...like VHS tapes back in the day), but also from my general adult opinion that Star Wars is a more distinctly male-oriented foray into the sci-fi universe than Star Trek.
(I had to pause here to have a fierce internal debate with myself about the story lines of both series, and whether or not that was a justifiable reason for inclusion of lady characters.)
Regardless. The main discussion of the evening centered around character representation. Star Wars. I can count...3 really important female characters? You have Aunt Beru, who basically becomes a pile of on-fire bones for all she's worth to the series (spoiler alert, I guess). Then you have stupid kabuki face Amidala, who essentially is like...kinda smart? But also really just a love interest slash person to be knocked up. And cinnamon bun hair. Who when it comes down to it is really just more of a firecracker than anything else. You know. The type that you just need to tie down and get to accept your manly dominance on anything and everything, and then she'll stop being so gosh-darn uppity all the time.
Star Trek. We're talking even original Kirk Trek, where all the ladies where in outfits like this.
You still managed to have at least Uhura be much more than some sexy token. I present you also with this comprehensive list in a much better organized fashion than I am capable of. And yes, I'll concede counselor Troi. She's got one of the more useless skills ever aboard the Enterprise (really, what the fuck does being able to make vague statements about how somebody feels really add to your tactical advantage?). Even Seven of Nine managed to at least be an interesting character in addition to being a boner of the month contender.
I'd like to begin this post similarly to my post on the Batman movie by saying that I am just a novice nerd in regards to this, so please nobody push your nerd glasses up and get ready to debate me on any of this. Relax.
So...awhile back I had made the allusion to Star Trek being the Playbody of sci-fi, and Star Wars being the Hustler. (You weren't there for that, I did it on my Twitter. It's okay because I'm telling you about it now.)
Tonight as we were watching the episode, "Q-Who?" Now-hubby started commenting about how he likes Star Trek now, but if I had met him when he was younger, I would have had to fight him on the supremacy of Star Wars. To which I replied, "of course, Star Wars is for boys."
My comment stems just a little bit from personal experience (I had a male cousin who I watched Star Wars with back in the day...like VHS tapes back in the day), but also from my general adult opinion that Star Wars is a more distinctly male-oriented foray into the sci-fi universe than Star Trek.
(I had to pause here to have a fierce internal debate with myself about the story lines of both series, and whether or not that was a justifiable reason for inclusion of lady characters.)
Regardless. The main discussion of the evening centered around character representation. Star Wars. I can count...3 really important female characters? You have Aunt Beru, who basically becomes a pile of on-fire bones for all she's worth to the series (spoiler alert, I guess). Then you have stupid kabuki face Amidala, who essentially is like...kinda smart? But also really just a love interest slash person to be knocked up. And cinnamon bun hair. Who when it comes down to it is really just more of a firecracker than anything else. You know. The type that you just need to tie down and get to accept your manly dominance on anything and everything, and then she'll stop being so gosh-darn uppity all the time.
Star Trek. We're talking even original Kirk Trek, where all the ladies where in outfits like this.
You still managed to have at least Uhura be much more than some sexy token. I present you also with this comprehensive list in a much better organized fashion than I am capable of. And yes, I'll concede counselor Troi. She's got one of the more useless skills ever aboard the Enterprise (really, what the fuck does being able to make vague statements about how somebody feels really add to your tactical advantage?). Even Seven of Nine managed to at least be an interesting character in addition to being a boner of the month contender.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
He got me open like 7-11
Today when Now-hubby got home from work I was busy on the computer doing some random things. He gets home later than I do, and is usually in charge of dinner. So my first question was what we were going to eat. Second question was whether he wanted to have sex or not. I was particularly in the mood at the moment, so it was a relevant question. I don't know the last time we had sex; it was recently. I don't tend to keep track of things like that. It's a similar reason to why I have to count on my fingers every time somebody asks me how long Now-hubby and I have been married. If we've had sex at least within the past few days and/or nobody is raising immediate complaints about lack of sex, then it's not worth my time to keep some sort of tally about when was the last time we fucked.
Fast-forward to dinner being made (it smells delicious), and I find this little gem on /r/sex. Which is an interesting mixed-bag of stuff on the best of days. It ranges from seriously interesting discussions about relationship politics to total n00b comments more to the tune of, "omg I'm supposed to put a guy's weiner in my mouth? Guh-ross!"
At first, before I even clicked on the link, I thought it was going to be reminiscent of this giant turd of an idea, which I'll tl;dr for you right now. Some lady gave her husband 40 days of sex as a 40th birthday present (it's something her mom used to give her dad every year for his birthday, which doesn't make this creepy or weird at all). Standard story: her husband loves sex and she was getting to that point where she's too unoriginal to think of good birthday present ideas for the person she loves. A nice dinner out together is just so fucking unoriginal and boring, right? But then she realizes what she's agreed to and is like, "that's completely impossible to do."
So she comes up with this completely bat-shit idea that she'll just put a little jar with 40 beads in it next to the his side of the bed. She gets a bowl of some sort on her side. Whenever hubby wants some, he takes a bead and puts it in the bowl. Within 24 hours she's got to seal the deal (as it were).
Honestly, I just like to imagine the negotiations that could arise out of that scenario. Like, what happens if he just continues to put beads in the bowl every 24 hours? Doesn't that just equate to the original birthday present? Is he allowed to put more than one bead at a time in the bowl? If so, what do multiple beads represent?
It turned out not to be about the bead thing, which was refreshing. However, it did turn out to be about another completely stupid conceit for couples to have sex with each other. Here are some of my favorite parts:
1. ...'How did we do it?' says Douglas Brown... ...Can you imagine?... ...barely imaginable bonkathons...
The way the author sets it up as being this completely unimaginable feat. You mean people had sex? For a year? Every day? Jumping Jesus Christ - that's possibly the most insane thing I've ever fucking heard of on this planet.
2. If we hadn’t done 101 days, I don’t think we’d understand the importance of sex in our relationship.
I like this part especially because it implies that they didn't just get sidetracked with boring adult life stuff (house, jobs, kids, etc.) and forget how fun sex is to have, they may have never actually put sex as an especially important part of their relationship. As though it's some newly learned fact that, "hey, when we put our genitals together on a semi-regular basis, it makes us both feel better!" Which makes me wonder what the excuses were before the boring adult life stuff.
3. That’s a bonus, especially for a man. “Before, there was always that pressure to perform. That’s distracting and it can be dispiriting. The feeling that you’re on stage, you have to perform. But when we did the 101 days, all that . . . melted away. You realise [sic] you can’t be on stage every day.”
Charla, who works in marketing, says Brad, a salesman, and she feel the same way. “You’re no longer in it to win it every time,” she says, on the phone from Charlotte, North Carolina.
Did they not have orgasms some of the times they had sex during this experiment? Is that what they're talking about? I'm not knocking that - I really, really enjoy orgasms but I can understand the fulfillment of sexytimes without them. I'm just curious what they're talking about when they say things like, "you can't be on stage every day" and, "no longer in it to win it every time."
4. the project was Charla’s gift to her husband for his 40th birthday
Can somebody please explain this to me? What is it about birthdays, and 40th birthdays in particular? I'd like to know ahead of time if I'm like...contractually obligated in some way to give Now-hubby or Frisbee some sort of completely insane sexual program on their 40th birthdays.
5. The other thing that year made me realise [sic] was that men don’t need it more than women. Men might want it for different reasons. But I learned that I wanted it, too.
Can we get a collective d'aww moment for this? It's fucking precious. Men and women really can get along, everybody! Three cheers for gender parity! The issue again is with the implication of that last sentence. She learned that she wanted it. Meaning that up to this point, she didn't know she wanted it. Or possibly did, but didn't know it was okay for her to want it.
6. But what I suggest is, whatever you’re doing, double it. Then in a month, double it again.
And if you keep doing this, you'll eventually be having non-stop sex all day every day! Infinity sex!!
Fast-forward to dinner being made (it smells delicious), and I find this little gem on /r/sex. Which is an interesting mixed-bag of stuff on the best of days. It ranges from seriously interesting discussions about relationship politics to total n00b comments more to the tune of, "omg I'm supposed to put a guy's weiner in my mouth? Guh-ross!"
At first, before I even clicked on the link, I thought it was going to be reminiscent of this giant turd of an idea, which I'll tl;dr for you right now. Some lady gave her husband 40 days of sex as a 40th birthday present (it's something her mom used to give her dad every year for his birthday, which doesn't make this creepy or weird at all). Standard story: her husband loves sex and she was getting to that point where she's too unoriginal to think of good birthday present ideas for the person she loves. A nice dinner out together is just so fucking unoriginal and boring, right? But then she realizes what she's agreed to and is like, "that's completely impossible to do."
So she comes up with this completely bat-shit idea that she'll just put a little jar with 40 beads in it next to the his side of the bed. She gets a bowl of some sort on her side. Whenever hubby wants some, he takes a bead and puts it in the bowl. Within 24 hours she's got to seal the deal (as it were).
Honestly, I just like to imagine the negotiations that could arise out of that scenario. Like, what happens if he just continues to put beads in the bowl every 24 hours? Doesn't that just equate to the original birthday present? Is he allowed to put more than one bead at a time in the bowl? If so, what do multiple beads represent?
It turned out not to be about the bead thing, which was refreshing. However, it did turn out to be about another completely stupid conceit for couples to have sex with each other. Here are some of my favorite parts:
1. ...'How did we do it?' says Douglas Brown... ...Can you imagine?... ...barely imaginable bonkathons...
The way the author sets it up as being this completely unimaginable feat. You mean people had sex? For a year? Every day? Jumping Jesus Christ - that's possibly the most insane thing I've ever fucking heard of on this planet.
2. If we hadn’t done 101 days, I don’t think we’d understand the importance of sex in our relationship.
I like this part especially because it implies that they didn't just get sidetracked with boring adult life stuff (house, jobs, kids, etc.) and forget how fun sex is to have, they may have never actually put sex as an especially important part of their relationship. As though it's some newly learned fact that, "hey, when we put our genitals together on a semi-regular basis, it makes us both feel better!" Which makes me wonder what the excuses were before the boring adult life stuff.
3. That’s a bonus, especially for a man. “Before, there was always that pressure to perform. That’s distracting and it can be dispiriting. The feeling that you’re on stage, you have to perform. But when we did the 101 days, all that . . . melted away. You realise [sic] you can’t be on stage every day.”
Charla, who works in marketing, says Brad, a salesman, and she feel the same way. “You’re no longer in it to win it every time,” she says, on the phone from Charlotte, North Carolina.
Did they not have orgasms some of the times they had sex during this experiment? Is that what they're talking about? I'm not knocking that - I really, really enjoy orgasms but I can understand the fulfillment of sexytimes without them. I'm just curious what they're talking about when they say things like, "you can't be on stage every day" and, "no longer in it to win it every time."
4. the project was Charla’s gift to her husband for his 40th birthday
Can somebody please explain this to me? What is it about birthdays, and 40th birthdays in particular? I'd like to know ahead of time if I'm like...contractually obligated in some way to give Now-hubby or Frisbee some sort of completely insane sexual program on their 40th birthdays.
5. The other thing that year made me realise [sic] was that men don’t need it more than women. Men might want it for different reasons. But I learned that I wanted it, too.
Can we get a collective d'aww moment for this? It's fucking precious. Men and women really can get along, everybody! Three cheers for gender parity! The issue again is with the implication of that last sentence. She learned that she wanted it. Meaning that up to this point, she didn't know she wanted it. Or possibly did, but didn't know it was okay for her to want it.
6. But what I suggest is, whatever you’re doing, double it. Then in a month, double it again.
And if you keep doing this, you'll eventually be having non-stop sex all day every day! Infinity sex!!
Monday, November 12, 2012
Wish fulfillment
It's been long enough now that I can't remember exactly when I became "not normal." I also dislike debating nature vs. nurture, so for all intents and purposes I just sort of acknowledge in my day-to-day life that I don't approach relationships and sex in the same way other people do, and leave it at that.
For example, today one of my co-workers was talking about overhearing a high school student (male) talking to a friend of his (also male) about how he was going to get his girlfriend to blow him for his birthday. This leads to a conversation on male wish lists. Mostly centered around the idea that back in later elementary school when all the girls got pulled into the gym to learn about our periods, boys were taken into a room and given a list of ultimate sexual fantasies. Honestly, this is still one of my favorite things to imagine about. I've asked Now-hubby about the male version of the, "then you will grow boobies and be ready to make babies!" speech I got in the 4th grade, and it's pretty boring, actually. So I like to pretend that it wasn't, and that the boys actually had to sit through videos full of information like how to tuck boners into the waistband of their pants. The idea of a sexual wish list hand-out is probably one of the better pretend scenarios. (At least in my little group, we all got pamphlets called something stupid like, "Your body, Yourself." I'm pretty sure it was sponsored by Tampax.)
Somehow at the same time that girls are being subtly indoctrinated into what sex acts are "dirty," boys are getting this wish list they can check off of the exact same sex acts. In the latter case they're fantasy, in the former case it's something you only do if he's gotten you a nice piece of jewelry or for an anniversary or something. That's sort of where the conversation went today, and also where the reinforcement came in that respectable girls don't just do up the butt because they've seen it a few times in porn and are curious if it'll feel good for them or not.
I honestly don't know how to react when people say things like, "he asks me for anal every year on his birthday." I mean...is that really something people do? Fucking fascinating.
For example, today one of my co-workers was talking about overhearing a high school student (male) talking to a friend of his (also male) about how he was going to get his girlfriend to blow him for his birthday. This leads to a conversation on male wish lists. Mostly centered around the idea that back in later elementary school when all the girls got pulled into the gym to learn about our periods, boys were taken into a room and given a list of ultimate sexual fantasies. Honestly, this is still one of my favorite things to imagine about. I've asked Now-hubby about the male version of the, "then you will grow boobies and be ready to make babies!" speech I got in the 4th grade, and it's pretty boring, actually. So I like to pretend that it wasn't, and that the boys actually had to sit through videos full of information like how to tuck boners into the waistband of their pants. The idea of a sexual wish list hand-out is probably one of the better pretend scenarios. (At least in my little group, we all got pamphlets called something stupid like, "Your body, Yourself." I'm pretty sure it was sponsored by Tampax.)
Somehow at the same time that girls are being subtly indoctrinated into what sex acts are "dirty," boys are getting this wish list they can check off of the exact same sex acts. In the latter case they're fantasy, in the former case it's something you only do if he's gotten you a nice piece of jewelry or for an anniversary or something. That's sort of where the conversation went today, and also where the reinforcement came in that respectable girls don't just do up the butt because they've seen it a few times in porn and are curious if it'll feel good for them or not.
I honestly don't know how to react when people say things like, "he asks me for anal every year on his birthday." I mean...is that really something people do? Fucking fascinating.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Serious question
Besides the point that RHPS is possibly the best thing ever (just reached this, and it is awesome):
Here is an awesome bit from The Unbearable Lightness of Being that I am loving:
Making love with a woman and sleeping with a woman are two separate passions, not merely different but opposite. Love does not make itself felt in the desire for copulation (a desire that extends to an infinite number of women) but in the desire for shared sleep (a desire limited to one woman).
Friday, November 9, 2012
Other People's Writing
I found this one on Fet (credit to MasterSoNSo) this morning, and wanted to share it. Since I thought those without Fet accounts should also be able to read it, I'll post the wall o' text for you.
---
---
Just to be on the safe side, let me start this with a
whole bunch of disclaimers: This is not a complaint. This is not
venting. This is me telling you what the mechanics of happy could look
like.
I am not talking about people, I am talking about my experience with polyamory, and I am talking about it for the benefit of those considering polyamory.
Yes, my partners are aware that I am having these experiences. I have talked with them about this stuff. That is sort of my whole point in mentioning this to YOU.
Polyamory is fucking HARD.
People say this a lot but I really think that some people out there might benefit from putting themselves in my shoes for five seconds and really asking themselves, "Could I really handle this? Am I really willing to ask someone else to handle this in order to be in my life?" Because I tell you what, I could not have handled this ten years ago.
I have spent the last five years being a secondary partner without a primary partner of my own. I like it this way. I tell people that _I_ am my primary partner. I joke that I am always the Bridesmaid, but never the Bride. Of the relationships that I am currently in, every single one that I consider myself committed to, is with a married woman.
Let me put that another way: every single relationship I am in could be ended by a third party decision.
I can already hear all of my polyamorous friends start to protest, start talking about how much they abhor hierarchies, how they don't allow veto rights in their relationships. I know what you are going to say, and I am willing to bet my long-lost anal virginity that the people who want to protest are all in primary relationships or want to be in primary relationships. Heck, all my partners would tell me the same thing.
And I'm sorry to hurt your feelings, but I call bullshit. I understand that you and your partner have all these rules and philosophies that you've spent all this time working out and discussing together, but that's not the point. The point is, _I_ have not had those conversations with them. Your primary partner does not love me, your metamour, the way s/he loves you, his actual partner. My theoretical happiness does not trump his desire to make your primary relationship work. "Drop everything else and focus on our marriage" is ALWAYS still on the menu, no matter what you say.
More importantly, as a secondary partner, the potential for that choice always exists in my head. I may be good at ignoring that demon imp voice, but it will always be there. When I'm weak. When I'm having a bad moment. When my boss tears me a new one because I screwed up big and I desperately need you to wrap your arms around me, that voice is there, whispering its evil little chant: "I bet her Primary will come first," that voice sings.
Is that likely to happen? No, because I have made good choices and I have faith that my partners are all spiritually and emotionally committed to a shared set of ethics, and I have taught myself how to trust that if their beliefs are this compatible with mine, then their partner's beliefs are probably pretty similar.
But teaching myself that, maintaining my faith in that, was HARD. Difficult. The opposite of easy. Definitely harder than being sexually monogamous. WAY WAY WAY harder than being socially monogamous.
Keeping that lingering doubt out of my head and heart when I am deep in a self-pity spiral is HARD.
Living a lifestyle where 95% of conversations about MY feelings for YOU includes a discussion of how I think your other (read: more important) partner feels? That is HARD.
That is not the Easy Mode. That is not the Easy Path To Free Orgies All The Time.
I think that the vast majority of polyamorous people I have met thus far would find it easier to lie to their Significant Other about an affair than to learn to trust metamours like that. I know I certainly would find it easier.
My girlfriend is having her husband's baby. Right now, they are sharing in an utterly transformative experience that I will never get to experience with her. Never. I mean, this completely fucking trumps that time when he saw the Transformers 3D with her before I could.
She and I were fluid-bonded (and, speaking of hard conversations, that is another Not The Easy Mode conversation: "I would also like to fluid bond with your wife."). We had to break our fluid bond while they tried. Think about that. Think about how you would react to that. They decided when they were going to start trying to have a baby, at which point I had to start wearing condoms again with my girlfriend.
If you're the sort of person who would see that as a slap in the face, then maybe you shouldn't be poly.
(Just to dive briefly back to my last point, have you thought about whether you believe you should get any kind of say in when your girlfriend will start trying to have kids with her husband? Is that a conversation you're prepared to have?)
When I lay in bed next to her, I can smell that she's growing some other guy's kid in her. Her body is changing shape. Her daily routine has been biologically rewritten. It will require a completely different wardrobe -- she isn't even going to be dressed like I'm used to. For the next seven months, her husband and this choice is going to be an inescapable element of my relationship with her.
I mean, realistically, what they've just done is decide to change the woman that I'm in a relationship with. Not just for the next 7 months, either.
It is thrilling and gratifying and deeply affirming to watch myself be okay with this, but I have to say, it is not easy to be okay with it.
It requires skills, it requires learning how to notice yourself be Not Okay with it, and have the courage to speak up and admit when I am Not Okay with it, and have a relationship where you can talk about it and feed your esteem while still making sure she's getting all her natal vitamins and naps in. It requires trusting in your relationship's communication skills, and trusting in THEIR relationship's communication skills, which is way harder, because you are never going to get to watch them talk about you when you're not around.
When people talk about how polyamory is hard, this is MUCH harder than anything I ever imagined Those People meaning.
As the Icing on Everyone Else's Cake, I am by now well used to long distance secondary relationships, to weekend affairs. I am used to having to say goodbye at the airport. I have developed skills to deal with the sense of loneliness and sudden isolation, have learned to deal with having to return to my empty bed. But listening to her talk about what a great time she had and how much she misses me and wishes she could be there with me but now she's got to go to bed with her husband? Constantly being treated as a Special Occasion that needs to be planned? That is always going to be hard. Nor is there really anything that she can do about that.
People imagine polyamory to be this place where you're never jealous and there's enough love and connection so that you'll never feel left out again. I have to tell you, this isn't my experience. I wouldn't want it to be my experience.
I get jealous. I feel the whole wide range of emotions.
I have complex, multi-layered, so-intense-I-can-barely-keep-a-grip emotions. My relationships push my buttons and terrify me and test my idealistic philosophies about what relationships should be, about what I can be to other people. It is a challenge.
It is a challenge we face together.
It amazes me how many people think they can enter poly relationships and then tell their partner, "Your emotions about the other relationships I'm in are Not My Problem." That you're solely responsible for dealing with your own emotions and that asking for help and support is somehow not Good Poly? What amazes me even more than that, are the people who don't even think about what it means to ask someone to be their secondary partner.
If you're not involved in the emotional experience of your partners than what the fuck are you doing this for? Prostitutes and swingers clubs will be way less expensive and time consuming. Multiple, ethical, open, emotionally intense, committed relationships are hard.
As a perennial secondary partner, do you know what my deepest fear is every time I start a relationship?
That I'm being used as an exit strategy.
That my entire relationship with you was secretly, the entire time, actually just about getting the strength to leave your Actually Significant Other. Because she won't actually know that's what she's doing. Because she's convinced herself that she's happy with her marriage and that this is just one more way that they're expressing that happiness. Because for her I'm nothing more than a catalyst agent for her to grow some balls and Dump The Mother Fucker Already, but for me that was an actual relationship.
If it's surprising to you that this happens often enough in the world of polyamory for me to have baggage about that shit, then maybe you should spend some more time thinking about this choice.
I am not talking about people, I am talking about my experience with polyamory, and I am talking about it for the benefit of those considering polyamory.
Yes, my partners are aware that I am having these experiences. I have talked with them about this stuff. That is sort of my whole point in mentioning this to YOU.
Polyamory is fucking HARD.
People say this a lot but I really think that some people out there might benefit from putting themselves in my shoes for five seconds and really asking themselves, "Could I really handle this? Am I really willing to ask someone else to handle this in order to be in my life?" Because I tell you what, I could not have handled this ten years ago.
I have spent the last five years being a secondary partner without a primary partner of my own. I like it this way. I tell people that _I_ am my primary partner. I joke that I am always the Bridesmaid, but never the Bride. Of the relationships that I am currently in, every single one that I consider myself committed to, is with a married woman.
Let me put that another way: every single relationship I am in could be ended by a third party decision.
I can already hear all of my polyamorous friends start to protest, start talking about how much they abhor hierarchies, how they don't allow veto rights in their relationships. I know what you are going to say, and I am willing to bet my long-lost anal virginity that the people who want to protest are all in primary relationships or want to be in primary relationships. Heck, all my partners would tell me the same thing.
And I'm sorry to hurt your feelings, but I call bullshit. I understand that you and your partner have all these rules and philosophies that you've spent all this time working out and discussing together, but that's not the point. The point is, _I_ have not had those conversations with them. Your primary partner does not love me, your metamour, the way s/he loves you, his actual partner. My theoretical happiness does not trump his desire to make your primary relationship work. "Drop everything else and focus on our marriage" is ALWAYS still on the menu, no matter what you say.
More importantly, as a secondary partner, the potential for that choice always exists in my head. I may be good at ignoring that demon imp voice, but it will always be there. When I'm weak. When I'm having a bad moment. When my boss tears me a new one because I screwed up big and I desperately need you to wrap your arms around me, that voice is there, whispering its evil little chant: "I bet her Primary will come first," that voice sings.
Is that likely to happen? No, because I have made good choices and I have faith that my partners are all spiritually and emotionally committed to a shared set of ethics, and I have taught myself how to trust that if their beliefs are this compatible with mine, then their partner's beliefs are probably pretty similar.
But teaching myself that, maintaining my faith in that, was HARD. Difficult. The opposite of easy. Definitely harder than being sexually monogamous. WAY WAY WAY harder than being socially monogamous.
Keeping that lingering doubt out of my head and heart when I am deep in a self-pity spiral is HARD.
Living a lifestyle where 95% of conversations about MY feelings for YOU includes a discussion of how I think your other (read: more important) partner feels? That is HARD.
That is not the Easy Mode. That is not the Easy Path To Free Orgies All The Time.
I think that the vast majority of polyamorous people I have met thus far would find it easier to lie to their Significant Other about an affair than to learn to trust metamours like that. I know I certainly would find it easier.
My girlfriend is having her husband's baby. Right now, they are sharing in an utterly transformative experience that I will never get to experience with her. Never. I mean, this completely fucking trumps that time when he saw the Transformers 3D with her before I could.
She and I were fluid-bonded (and, speaking of hard conversations, that is another Not The Easy Mode conversation: "I would also like to fluid bond with your wife."). We had to break our fluid bond while they tried. Think about that. Think about how you would react to that. They decided when they were going to start trying to have a baby, at which point I had to start wearing condoms again with my girlfriend.
If you're the sort of person who would see that as a slap in the face, then maybe you shouldn't be poly.
(Just to dive briefly back to my last point, have you thought about whether you believe you should get any kind of say in when your girlfriend will start trying to have kids with her husband? Is that a conversation you're prepared to have?)
When I lay in bed next to her, I can smell that she's growing some other guy's kid in her. Her body is changing shape. Her daily routine has been biologically rewritten. It will require a completely different wardrobe -- she isn't even going to be dressed like I'm used to. For the next seven months, her husband and this choice is going to be an inescapable element of my relationship with her.
I mean, realistically, what they've just done is decide to change the woman that I'm in a relationship with. Not just for the next 7 months, either.
It is thrilling and gratifying and deeply affirming to watch myself be okay with this, but I have to say, it is not easy to be okay with it.
It requires skills, it requires learning how to notice yourself be Not Okay with it, and have the courage to speak up and admit when I am Not Okay with it, and have a relationship where you can talk about it and feed your esteem while still making sure she's getting all her natal vitamins and naps in. It requires trusting in your relationship's communication skills, and trusting in THEIR relationship's communication skills, which is way harder, because you are never going to get to watch them talk about you when you're not around.
When people talk about how polyamory is hard, this is MUCH harder than anything I ever imagined Those People meaning.
As the Icing on Everyone Else's Cake, I am by now well used to long distance secondary relationships, to weekend affairs. I am used to having to say goodbye at the airport. I have developed skills to deal with the sense of loneliness and sudden isolation, have learned to deal with having to return to my empty bed. But listening to her talk about what a great time she had and how much she misses me and wishes she could be there with me but now she's got to go to bed with her husband? Constantly being treated as a Special Occasion that needs to be planned? That is always going to be hard. Nor is there really anything that she can do about that.
People imagine polyamory to be this place where you're never jealous and there's enough love and connection so that you'll never feel left out again. I have to tell you, this isn't my experience. I wouldn't want it to be my experience.
I get jealous. I feel the whole wide range of emotions.
I have complex, multi-layered, so-intense-I-can-barely-keep-a-grip emotions. My relationships push my buttons and terrify me and test my idealistic philosophies about what relationships should be, about what I can be to other people. It is a challenge.
It is a challenge we face together.
It amazes me how many people think they can enter poly relationships and then tell their partner, "Your emotions about the other relationships I'm in are Not My Problem." That you're solely responsible for dealing with your own emotions and that asking for help and support is somehow not Good Poly? What amazes me even more than that, are the people who don't even think about what it means to ask someone to be their secondary partner.
If you're not involved in the emotional experience of your partners than what the fuck are you doing this for? Prostitutes and swingers clubs will be way less expensive and time consuming. Multiple, ethical, open, emotionally intense, committed relationships are hard.
As a perennial secondary partner, do you know what my deepest fear is every time I start a relationship?
That I'm being used as an exit strategy.
That my entire relationship with you was secretly, the entire time, actually just about getting the strength to leave your Actually Significant Other. Because she won't actually know that's what she's doing. Because she's convinced herself that she's happy with her marriage and that this is just one more way that they're expressing that happiness. Because for her I'm nothing more than a catalyst agent for her to grow some balls and Dump The Mother Fucker Already, but for me that was an actual relationship.
If it's surprising to you that this happens often enough in the world of polyamory for me to have baggage about that shit, then maybe you should spend some more time thinking about this choice.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
Predilection
Quite often I will find myself talking to Now-hubby about Frisbee or vice versa. Not in a way where I'm comparing the two of them, just sort of, "oh, I was hanging out with Frisbee and he mentioned [blank]. I thought it was interesting and so now I am telling you about [blank]."
The more this happens, the more I am ultimately surprised by how much the two of them have in common. I'll mention some book Frisbee is reading, and Now-hubby will be all, "oh, I read that book a few years ago. It was really good. I told you all about it." Which really just proves that I am an insensitive clod who doesn't pay attention to things that don't interest me. But it also illustrates this weird compatibility that exists between the two of them, and one of my more common soap box points on why poly is not of the devil.
Now-hubby and I have been doing the poly thing since we first got together, and that was almost 10 years ago. Over this expanse of time, it's been interesting to sort of keep mental notes of the trends. People we get involved with just for genital touchings are really sort of varying. There's definitely certain traits involved, but it's not like these cookie-cutter people one after the other. If Now-hubby gets to the like like stage with somebody else, it's interesting how much I'll have in common with that person. Similarly with me. Not to say that we're all best fucking friends for life, but it's kind of neat in a way to find those commonalities. It makes me feel more reassured, because I can find those instances in Now-hubby's other relationships where I'm still sort of present. It's not about which of us does x better, or whether the his significant other has better y or z than I do. That's the way I tend to frame things, anyway. Not to think about the differences but focus on the similarities in poly relationships. I don't want to change myself fundamentally because I'm worried about somebody else Now-hubby might be seeing and trying somehow to compete with them. That's pointless and a waste of energy. I like that Now-hubby loves qualities in other people that he also loves in me; it means he's a consistent guy who knows what he's looking for.
The down-side for me in loving the same qualities in both Frisbee and Now-hubby means that the feelings of love I have for them are fairly similar as well. Whenever I get to see one of them, it makes me equally happy. When I have to leave one of them, it hurts my heart just as much regardless of which one I'm leaving. This makes sort of everyday negotiations on where I'm going to be and who I'm spending time with difficult. It helps that among their shared qualities, they're both incredibly accommodating, laid back guys who don't make a lot of demands as far as my time and energy are concerned.
For another decent view on the whole, "loving more than one person" thing, you can check out this Pervocracy entry. I sort of like the analogy, but I also can't help imagining eventually you'd get to be like the Burrow, with this crazy compendium of rooms.
The more this happens, the more I am ultimately surprised by how much the two of them have in common. I'll mention some book Frisbee is reading, and Now-hubby will be all, "oh, I read that book a few years ago. It was really good. I told you all about it." Which really just proves that I am an insensitive clod who doesn't pay attention to things that don't interest me. But it also illustrates this weird compatibility that exists between the two of them, and one of my more common soap box points on why poly is not of the devil.
Now-hubby and I have been doing the poly thing since we first got together, and that was almost 10 years ago. Over this expanse of time, it's been interesting to sort of keep mental notes of the trends. People we get involved with just for genital touchings are really sort of varying. There's definitely certain traits involved, but it's not like these cookie-cutter people one after the other. If Now-hubby gets to the like like stage with somebody else, it's interesting how much I'll have in common with that person. Similarly with me. Not to say that we're all best fucking friends for life, but it's kind of neat in a way to find those commonalities. It makes me feel more reassured, because I can find those instances in Now-hubby's other relationships where I'm still sort of present. It's not about which of us does x better, or whether the his significant other has better y or z than I do. That's the way I tend to frame things, anyway. Not to think about the differences but focus on the similarities in poly relationships. I don't want to change myself fundamentally because I'm worried about somebody else Now-hubby might be seeing and trying somehow to compete with them. That's pointless and a waste of energy. I like that Now-hubby loves qualities in other people that he also loves in me; it means he's a consistent guy who knows what he's looking for.
The down-side for me in loving the same qualities in both Frisbee and Now-hubby means that the feelings of love I have for them are fairly similar as well. Whenever I get to see one of them, it makes me equally happy. When I have to leave one of them, it hurts my heart just as much regardless of which one I'm leaving. This makes sort of everyday negotiations on where I'm going to be and who I'm spending time with difficult. It helps that among their shared qualities, they're both incredibly accommodating, laid back guys who don't make a lot of demands as far as my time and energy are concerned.
For another decent view on the whole, "loving more than one person" thing, you can check out this Pervocracy entry. I sort of like the analogy, but I also can't help imagining eventually you'd get to be like the Burrow, with this crazy compendium of rooms.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Projecting the Erection
No, I don't have anything interesting to say about the election thing happening tonight.
However, I do have this Ménage à 3 comic to talk about while I sort of pay attention the all the fancy maps on the news slowly turning either red or blue.
I do actually like this webcomic, so this entry isn't a critique so much as a, "here are some things I think about this" exposition.
First, there's the interesting implication that it doesn't really count as cheating because the two people in the relationship aren't happy together. Or that the supposed "cheating" won't hurt as much for the same reason. Somewhere there is a mathematical equation waiting to happen, where the amount of happiness in a relationship is directly proportional to its fidelity.
Second, Dillon's (the one with his clothes on) look in the last panel. I like to imagine that in those ellipses is a common question of my own - "But how...do you get involved with somebody who doesn't make you happy in some way?" You could go a bit more esoteric with it and maybe he's asking how Gary (the naked one with glasses) doesn't know whether he's in love or not - like an emotional uncertainty. To equate it with the 2nd grade: "Do you like like me?" But I like to put my own question in there, because my eyebrows make that same confused arc when I am stuck listening to somebody complain about their significant other and then I ask them why they're with them in the first place.
However, I do have this Ménage à 3 comic to talk about while I sort of pay attention the all the fancy maps on the news slowly turning either red or blue.
I do actually like this webcomic, so this entry isn't a critique so much as a, "here are some things I think about this" exposition.
First, there's the interesting implication that it doesn't really count as cheating because the two people in the relationship aren't happy together. Or that the supposed "cheating" won't hurt as much for the same reason. Somewhere there is a mathematical equation waiting to happen, where the amount of happiness in a relationship is directly proportional to its fidelity.
Second, Dillon's (the one with his clothes on) look in the last panel. I like to imagine that in those ellipses is a common question of my own - "But how...do you get involved with somebody who doesn't make you happy in some way?" You could go a bit more esoteric with it and maybe he's asking how Gary (the naked one with glasses) doesn't know whether he's in love or not - like an emotional uncertainty. To equate it with the 2nd grade: "Do you like like me?" But I like to put my own question in there, because my eyebrows make that same confused arc when I am stuck listening to somebody complain about their significant other and then I ask them why they're with them in the first place.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Instrumental
Inspiration for this post.
One time in college I got into a discussion with a friend about who gives better blowjobs, woodwind players or brass players. An argument you can really only have about band instruments, because other things just don't work as well.
He was a saxophone player in our college's marching band, I had played clarinet for about...7 years. (Since 5th grade, then I gave up band to take Physics my senior year of high school. It was a total nerd dilemma at the time, trust me.) So, the whole thing might have been a bit biased to begin with. My friend was a straight guy, so he wasn't exactly in the practice of giving blowjobs. Also sort of a n00b when it came to sexytime stuff, so not really in the practice of getting them, either. (He did, however, have a great story about a girl who actually blew on his penis once - like she was trying to cool down soup or something. Me: "But she eventually put it in her mouth, right?" Him: "No, she just did that for 10 minutes before I told her to stop.") But, the night had already involved fine smokeables and peanut butter covered brownies, so it was a natural next step for the conversation to move in.
It all boils down to embouchure. For those who are unfamiliar, embouchure, besides being a hilarious word to say in an exaggerated French accent (go ahead, try it), is the shape your mouth takes when you play an instrument. For brass instruments, it can probably be best described as giving a raspberry. Or how to make a fart noise with your mouth. You press your lips together really tight and then try and blow air out through them. That doesn't even work if you're talking about cunnilingus. If you're talking about blowjobs, it's pretty fucking terrible. With woodwinds the embouchure is more about putting your mouth around things. And there are some big-ass mouth pieces in the woodwind section. Barry Sax? Bass Clarinet? Yeah, that's what I thought. Pretty much the only instrument in the woodwind section whose embouchure isn't worth dick is the flute. And the first sack to bring up American Pie gets their genitals mutilated with a crowbar. We're talking blowjobs only, not anal stimulation. So...go cry in a corner, flute players.
One time in college I got into a discussion with a friend about who gives better blowjobs, woodwind players or brass players. An argument you can really only have about band instruments, because other things just don't work as well.
He was a saxophone player in our college's marching band, I had played clarinet for about...7 years. (Since 5th grade, then I gave up band to take Physics my senior year of high school. It was a total nerd dilemma at the time, trust me.) So, the whole thing might have been a bit biased to begin with. My friend was a straight guy, so he wasn't exactly in the practice of giving blowjobs. Also sort of a n00b when it came to sexytime stuff, so not really in the practice of getting them, either. (He did, however, have a great story about a girl who actually blew on his penis once - like she was trying to cool down soup or something. Me: "But she eventually put it in her mouth, right?" Him: "No, she just did that for 10 minutes before I told her to stop.") But, the night had already involved fine smokeables and peanut butter covered brownies, so it was a natural next step for the conversation to move in.
It all boils down to embouchure. For those who are unfamiliar, embouchure, besides being a hilarious word to say in an exaggerated French accent (go ahead, try it), is the shape your mouth takes when you play an instrument. For brass instruments, it can probably be best described as giving a raspberry. Or how to make a fart noise with your mouth. You press your lips together really tight and then try and blow air out through them. That doesn't even work if you're talking about cunnilingus. If you're talking about blowjobs, it's pretty fucking terrible. With woodwinds the embouchure is more about putting your mouth around things. And there are some big-ass mouth pieces in the woodwind section. Barry Sax? Bass Clarinet? Yeah, that's what I thought. Pretty much the only instrument in the woodwind section whose embouchure isn't worth dick is the flute. And the first sack to bring up American Pie gets their genitals mutilated with a crowbar. We're talking blowjobs only, not anal stimulation. So...go cry in a corner, flute players.
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