Life Lessons So Far

What truly nice people never understand…

… or maybe just never want to believe.

In a nutshell: for some people, it’s not the kill, it’s the chase.

Okay, nice girl – (ahem, P.S.). Do the dream music and imagine yourself a narcissist for a moment…

I have convinced this apparently (but not really) unwilling girl to have sex with me. We have had sex. Score: nothing, because she actually wanted to, so what does that prove about me? Nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~or~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have convinced this apparently (but not really) unwilling girl to have sex with me. Now I pull away, leaving her doubting her attractions. Score one.

Now I demonstrate my apparently uncontrollable desire and inflame her again. Score two.

Now I pull away, leaving her wounded and vowing not to be led on again. Three.

Now I confess to her that my own insecurity has held me back, and she believes it. Four.

Now I demonstrate my apparently uncontrollable desire, overcome my fake inhibitions due to her irresistible charms, and inflame her again. Five.

Now I pull away and devastate her self-image AGAIN. Six.

Now I use the mental illness ploy; her good nature and her own demons drive her need to fix me and she is pulled in again. Seven. Eight. Nine, ten, infinity! Aha!

If you were a power junkie, which would you choose?

(edited to add) This behavior, to be perfectly clear, is not gender-specific by any means. And if you’re a teenager who can choose this kind of fuck over the other, you are very likely one sick little puppy indeed.

Life lessons: how to flirt

New term: Brain Hottie. A woman who can rip a heart in two using only a laptop, an ISP, and the magnificent power of her intellect. You know who you are, you sexy thing.

Which reminds me that all the truly effective seductive techniques are mental in origin. I don’t mean the “get laid” techniques; I mean the “get him deep in the psyche where it counts for about the next decade” techniques. Or, if you are utterly unprincipled (ahem), the “get him away from the other women at the table” techniques. The ones that spring to mind (before I have to put my pants on and go to lunch) are:

1. DON’T wear a push-up bra that actually hurts; the pain will negate the effect.
2. DO emphasize only one erogenous body zone at a time; legs OR breasts OR ass OR midriff. And be honest with yourself.
3. DON’T do the dreaded hair flip.
4. DO twirl a lock of hair around your finger, or trace the condensation on your glass.
5. DON’T giggle or grin like an ape at every comment he makes.
6. DO listen attentively to his remarks; wait for one that no one else hears and respond appreciatively.
7. DON’T wear too much jewelry; men are not magpies or raccoons.
8. DO wear a thin chain, gold or silver, with a small pendant that almost dips into your cleavage.
9. DON’T gaze into his eyes and lick your lips.
10. DO wait for him to “catch” you looking at him, then look away quickly as if embarrassed.
11. DON’T touch him first, not even the boob brush-by.
12. DO manage to hand him something, like a napkin or keys, that involves a near-touch. While in mid-handoff, look directly into his eyes and smile the “I just met Cary Grant” smile; you know, wondering and joyful but not sex-ay.
13. DON’T, for heaven’s sake, disparage yourself in ANY way. This is the classic, fatal error of girls who have fifty guy friends and no dates.
14. DO refrain from listing in painful detail your academic and/or professional achievements, even if asked.
15. DON’T play dumb. Don’t, don’t, don’t play dumb.
16. DO confess a charming and truthful ignorance of some subject that he is enthusiastic about. Try to pick one you’re actually interested in; it makes things much easier.

More later… lunchtime.

Back from lunch. It occurs to me that some tender soul may be asking herself,”But what if I do all these things and he STILL goes home with the girl who’s doing all the don’t’s?”

Then I say to you, Grasshopper: he is not the one for you. At least, not right now in his life or yours, or not this night, or maybe just not ever. Decide what you want, whether it’s possible involvement or a one-nighter, and go from there. You are just as capable of the boob-brush and hair-flip as anyone else.

Courage, ma soeur!

Life lessons: how to spot a bad one

First off, let’s get one thing straight.

Men are human beings.

They are not dogs, or aliens, or de facto predators, or heartless users; at least, not in any greater proportion than women are. They are people. They have different biochemistry and a totally different experience in society as children and adults. You obsess about your looks; he obsesses about his manliness and doesn’t even get to talk about it with his friends. As a group, the most melanin-deficient subset of this gender pretty much runs the world. As an individual, that guy across the table from you is wondering how much of his hairline wound up on the shower floor this morning.

So let’s just say you get what you’re looking for and leave it at that for now. Back to the lesson…

You’re on that first date. You’re bearing in mind that no one is perfect, that this is a tension-fraught experience for both of you, and that men are different from women. However, your first responsibility is to yourself. Life is short, men are many. How do you spot a waste of time or, worst case, a raving psycho? I’ve been working on a little quiz to help you out.

For each set of scenarios, mark “N” for the one you feel is normal guy behavior, tolerable for the time being. Mark “OH HELL NO” for the behavior that sets off alarms in your head. We’ll use the name, oh, how about “Bob” to make things simpler.

First case

a) Bob is fifteen minutes late to the coffee bar. He explains that he had to put gas in his car, but left his ATM card in yesterday’s jeans and had to call his roommate to bring him cash. He neglected to call you to inform you of the delay.

b) Bob is fifteen minutes late to the coffee bar. He explains that he had to put gas in the car, but that the bank has put a hold on his ATM card and he had to call his mother to bring him cash. He then calls his mother to inform her of his safe arrival.

Second case

a) Bob brings you daffodils and says he remembers you saying they were your favorite flower. You actually said roses.

b) Bob brings you daffodils and says he remembers seeing you buy them at the corner flower stand in your neighborhood every Wednesday for the last five months. He’s right.

Third case

a) Bob is too conservatively dressed for the club. On the dance floor he is slightly sweaty, awkward, and looking harried.

b) Bob is perfectly dressed for the club and knows the bouncer. On the dance floor he is at ease, although the people who keep approaching him and exchanging suspiciously long, close handshakes hamper his ability to dance.

Fourth case

a) Bob’s eyes stray to your breasts at least three times during conversation.

b) Bob names your breasts in the first half-hour of your date and frequently addresses them directly for the rest of the evening.

Fifth case

a) Bob escorts you to your door at the end of the evening. He is nervous and his lips are dry, but he manages a bit of presumptuous tongue during the good-night kiss.

b) Bob escorts you to your door at the end of the evening. He is looking around nervously, asks you exactly when your roommate is expected home, and now he is sweaty and wet-lipped. His pupils may be dilated as well, but the sunglasses make it hard to tell.

Life lessons: how to break up well

It was over. I bought a copy of The Collected Sonnets of Edna St. Vincent Millay (genius of lyrical poetry, particularly lucid on the subject of bad relationships and the endings thereof). I gave it to the terribly disappointing young man with a list of the sonnets he was to read, in that order. They traced the laughably pathetic rise and decline of our doings with each other, and ended with perhaps the most eloquently scathing dismissal ever written.

I, being born a woman and distressed
By all the needs and notions of my kind,
Am urged by your propinquity to find
Your person fair, and feel a certain zest
To bear your body’s weight upon my breast:
So subtly is the fume of life designed,
To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind,
And leave me once again undone, possessed.
Think not for this, however, the poor treason
Of my stout blood against my staggering brain,
I shall remember you with love, or season
My scorn with pity, — let me make it plain:
I find this frenzy insufficient reason
For conversation when we meet again.

I can almost guarantee you that you will find an applicable sonnet or two, or three, or a dozen, in The Collected. You didn’t love him, he didn’t love you, it was just about sex, you’ve grown tired of each other, big fight, slow death: it’s all in there. What a life Edna lived, and how well she put its events into fourteen lines.

Life lessons: how to choose an anniversary gift for your husband

Steak and a blowjob. The steak is optional.

Life lessons: how to get it on with a new partner (het chick specific)

If you’re one of those admirable people who feels that love should come before sex, this lesson is not for you. If, however, you’re a starry-eyed serial monogamist setting off down the merry path of wild oats and no regrets, this is for you.

 

What to pack (to be carried in a small transferable pouch)

1. Condoms, lubricated and new. God only knows how long that one’s been in his wallet, and having your own makes for no excuses.
2. Unflavored chapstick. It can moisturize, clean up eye makeup, tame post-coital hair frizzies. It’s smaller than a tube of lotion and less likely to leak.
3. Tampon. You never want to get caught out.
4. Wet wipes. Too many uses to enumerate.
5. Hellishly strong mints.
6. Hair ties/clips/whatever you use.

How to groom

1. All depilatory activity no more than a day in advance; then moisturize like mad.
2. Conservative outfit, killer lingerie. Think about the element of surprise.
3. Waterproof mascara and not too much lip goo – it’ll be gone soon anyway, and you don’t want clown mouth.
4. Clear deodorant.
5. Floss – you won’t be doing it later that night. It’s a breath thing.

What to do

1. Initiate the next level of activity – if not at first, at some point soon after.
2. Express honest enthusiasm. Or fake it, if you like him enough. Suddenly catching your breath at a critical moment is much more flattering (and believable) than screaming his name in overplayed ecstasy.
3. Encourage if necessary, tactfully.
4. Use your SECOND BEST TECHNIQUE. Save something for later, if you decide there will be a later. If not, why pull a thigh muscle for a one-night stand?
5. Stop thinking about how you look, if your cellulite shows, if your bikini line is perfect. Be really there, right then, completely.

What not to do

1. Do NOT go down on him first. It’s not about sexual politics or power plays; it’s about the entirely rational principle of beginning as you mean to go on. Setting a precedent. And yes, it’s a test. He’s got a 99.9% chance of getting off, no matter what; you need to know from the get-go if your fun is a priority. In the immortal words of Prince,”Lemme show U baby, I’m a talented boy.”
2. Do NOT coach him when he takes the plunge! Time for that later, if necessary. Reward, not punishment, is the way to encourage desirable behavior.
3. Do NOT leap from the bed to go fix your hair and makeup. Post-coital should look, well, post-coital. If he even notices, he should immediately go back to beating off to porn until he’s ready for the real world.
4. Do NOT make, imply, hint at or come anywhere near any kind of comparison to previous boyfriends. At all. Ever, in fact. Even as part of a paean of his praises. Do you want all his exes there in his head when he’s with you? Of course not.
5. Do NOT, for the sake of all that’s holy, utter the “l” word at any time during this encounter – and if he does, start inching toward the door.

Life lessons: dumb things to do for love

And by love, I mean “love.” As in:

“adulation, affection, allegiance, amity, amorousness, amour, appreciation, ardency, ardor, attachment, cherishing, crash, crush, delight, devotedness, devotion, emotion, enchantment, enjoyment, fervor, fidelity, flame, fondness, friendship, hankering, idolatry, inclination, infatuation, involvement, like, liking, lust, mad for, mash, partiality, pash, passion, piety, rapture, regard, relish, respect, sentiment, taste, tenderness, the hots, weakness, worship, yearning, zeal.” (thank you, Roget)

Anything, in short, but actual love: the kind based on passion, respect and trust.

Here’s the fun part: which one of these dumb things have I not done? A mix CD of terribly unhealthy songs could be yours if you guess correctly…

1. Move somewhere. For no good reason, except that you said you would, or think you should because you owe someone. Something. Or something like that.
2. Ignore every screaming siren and flashing light that your not-so-subconscious is sending you, including that little voice saying,”Hey, he’s a lot like my father.”
3. Forgo safe sex.
4. Cheat on your spouse. Or monogamous partner. If you don’t have the cojones to end something, don’t start something else. Karma will kick your ass.
5. Cheat with someone else’s spouse. Because that just sucks.
6. Sleep with the phone under your pillow. Bathe with the phone on the counter. Cook with the phone on the sink. Answer the phone when that asshole calls.
7. Change your appearance in any way whatsoever, including depilatory experiments.
8. Lie to your mom.
9. Eat badly-cooked food on a regular basis.
10. Ignore every screaming siren and flashing light that your not-so-subconscious is sending you, including that little voice saying,”Hey, he’s EXACTLY LIKE ME IN EVERY UNHEALTHY WAY,” and sleep with your best friend before either of you are ready for any kind of sane, stable relationship.