Scoring with rebounds isn't a perpetual chore
"You're too short for me," my girlfriend's former co-worker quipped at the club, "but you're not too short for my friend."
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"You're too short for me," my girlfriend's former co-worker quipped at the club, "but you're not too short for my friend."
Last Friday night, my friends and I arrived at a club and headed upstairs. I was barely ten feet in the door when I ran into the previous weekend's hookup. Never one to be taken by surprise, I turned on my smile and accepted his embrace while offering my cheek for him to kiss.
This is what my semester looks like: five classes that start at 8:30 a.m. two days a week, an internship at 9 a.m. another two days, and a part time job that keeps me out late and up early on Saturdays, in addition to a steady social life (a.k.a. four nights of heavy drinking a week). This schedule has really taken its toll on my sex life.
I have never had a valentine on Valentine's Day, and I know I'm not alone. Don't worry. I am not going to go on a rant about the stupidity of the holiday and how it is better to be single, etc. The truth is that Julie from "The Real World: New Orleans" was right when she said, "You don't need a lover on Valentine's Day. You just need love." I hope that didn't make you gag. You have to admit that the na?ve Mormon virgin is right.
When you meet someone new, there are many things to consider. Are you attracted to them? Do you think that you could actually hold a conversation with them? Could you see yourself with them? Do you like their personality? Are they interesting? Intelligent? Funny? Do they make you smile when you talk to them? Do they make you crazy when you don't talk to them? But even with all these questions, why does the approval of our friends seem to be what matters most of all?
Some people believe in love at first sight. Others only believe in lust at first sight. Some people think that first impressions are the most important. Others think that any negative or positive assumed upon a first meeting can be reversed over the time it takes to get to know someone. With all this debate over the importance of first encounters, how much value should we place on the first time we go to bed with someone?
Returning to school after a semester abroad (or winter break) forces your body to get back in gear, even when it might not be ready. The strain of new classes, professors and deadlines can make even the excitement of a visit from your long distance partner stressful.
The old adage is that absence makes the heart grow fonder. What it fails to mention is the effect it has on the libido.
Why is that when something is hard to find, or unavailable, it is unquestionably in higher demand? When a book goes out of print, it instantly becomes more valuable. When a famous artist dies, the prices of all his or her pieces skyrocket. When an athlete retires, his or her memorabilia is worth exponentially more than it was when he or she was playing. In the same vein, why is it that we become more desirable to others when we take ourselves off the dating market?
Many people go abroad to experience an entirely new culture with entirely new people. We leave the familiarity of D.C. behind in pursuit of foreign flings and legal drinking, all artfully designed to make us forget about AU. But as the semester comes to a close, why is it that we begin to find the foreign not quite as exciting any more and wish only for the comfort of the familiar?
In the National Gallery of Ireland in Dublin, I saw the painting "Cupid and Psyche Under the Nuptial Bower" (bear with me, it was a slow week). It was a representation of the marriage between the mythological agent of desire and the incarnation of our brain's facility for emotion. Both figures were naked, in a pose that suggested their unbridled passion for each other. Of course this made me think about sex. It's obvious that desire and emotion play a large role when it comes to our sexual behavior, but what place do rationality and reason have when it comes to copulation?
In kindergarten, we were taught that sharing is caring. Having this cemented in my consciousness since my first year at St. Thomas Catholic Elementary, I've always been more than willing to share with my friends. Notes, clothes, alcohol and even money is willingly lent to my close friends. So why does sharing a lover with a friend present so many difficult problems?
In my first social anthropology lecture, the professor introduced the way we perceive other cultures by saying, "We are initially tantalized by the exotic." I found this phrase provocative and surprisingly accurate for the way we approach foreigners. When I arrived here it was hard not to be aroused by the multitudes of accents speaking our purported native tongue. The English are very proper and soft-spoken, the Scottish more rough and clipped and the Irish speak so hastily and with bizarre inflection that it's difficult to catch even a word or two. Nevertheless, each was exotic to me, tantalizing in its pronunciation and strangely enticing.
Since I began writing this column, I've resisted the urge to sound like Carrie Bradshaw. But I can no longer resist talking about the peculiarity of sex in the city.
When I was little the only movie I remember not being allowed to watch was "Pretty Woman." I don't know if it was the sex scenes, the adult language or simply the situations it involved, but it was deemed too mature for my 13-year-old friend and me to watch. It wasn't long after that, though, that I finally did see the film, and I don't remember being shocked by the sex or the fact that Julia Roberts, who I adored in "Step Mom," played a hooker. I think I was more surprised that a woman who wore a blue mini skirt and a white beater on Rodeo Drive could land a multi-millionaire with just her charm and genuine personality. Who needs a college degree, internship experience and family connections when success and happiness can just fall into our laps, or pick us up on Hollywood Boulevard? What a role model for today's youth. She is truly America's sweetheart.
It doesn't take adolescent boys very long to figure out that if they keep touching themselves in a centralized location they will produce a euphoric feeling - and eventually something that needs to be cleaned up before mom walks in.
The clich? of adolescents going to a secluded point to park and suck face (among other things) is something as ingrained in our culture as apple pie or suing a fast food chain for providing you with coffee that is actually hot. Teens' first taste of freedom often goes hand in hand with their ability to drive solo, so it seems obvious that they would choose the automobile as the scene for their maiden voyage of sexual exploration.
I am sure that, like myself, you were all intoxicated with the hit song "Don't Cha" this summer. Without bothering to listen to most of the lyrics, I immediately adopted the chorus as the siren's call to committed boys everywhere that I was too irresistible for them. Had I listened carefully to the verses, I would have realized the song's true pedantic message: "Fight the feeling/Leave it alone/Cuz' if it ain't love/it just ain't enough to leave a happy home."