The Green-Eyed Monster

Most monsters have at least one redeeming quality. King Kong had a weakness for dames. Vampires are hipster fashionistas. Even those funster Zombies forever enjoy cinematic popularity despite their BO. But the Green-Eyed Monster is unmitigated awful.

The fact that Hollywood and Burbank haven't found a way to popularize the Jealousy Beast tells us how bad it is. Every story arc needs a slice of hope; but this....this thing has none.

Aside:

I hadn't heard jealousy referred to as "the green-eyed monster" until I dated one. I was chatting to a female colleague/friend at a party when this ex dragged me away and demanded an explanation. After she cooled it, that's the terminology she used to self-describe. This episode struck me as completely weird, and was a crystal-clear harbinger which I ignored. To my cost.

End Aside. 

Jealousy - at least the romantic kind - is tied up with self-esteem, trust, security, honesty, sexuality and faithfulness in one giant ganglia of hot blood and mean tricks. The dictionary keyword here is 'resentment', a telling description if ever.


We like to think we can intellectualize any human behaviour...at least I do. But jealousy is one of the few emotions for which there is no logical back-door. It's visceral, animal, and therefore almost uncontrollable. And it speaks entirely to the emoter, not the emoter's target.



Bottoms Up, Reactors.

Pillow Talk

If you drew blood after sex and examined it under a microscope, I'm sure we'd find it was full of rainbows, starbursts, heavenly choirs and popping champagne. Researchers should investigate this immediately.

The breathless effects of the sex last a while; awesome. It's a Zone apart from everything. In The Zone comes the pillow talk, which is not to say that PT requires The Zone, only that it's better.

I like the pillow talk. I like it because it's about as intimate as talking can get, meaning that we're both more vulnerable and free of everyday thinking than usual. In a way, it's the opposite of arguing, where one or both sides operate from a bunker of hurt or manipulation. When you're in bed, both in the moment, there are no agendas or power-plays. It's a time for innocence. It's a time to meet.

However. Nobody will ever warn you about the dangers of pillow talk. Because of the mental nudity involved, one might spill stuff, stuff that should probably otherwise stay hidden. Little secrets, small indiscretions, gossip; all the bullshit daily human mud that we normally filter - in the interests of harmony - can slip out.

So beware. Sex is wonderful. Pillow talk is beautiful. Being positive keeps it that way. Best not to drag the outside world in to share the moment. 






Bottoms Up, Happy Horizontal Chatters.

Pistols at Dawn

Ancient joke:

She offered her honor,
He honored her offer.
The rest of the night
It was honor and offer.

Unfortunately for me, living in 2012, the notion that a lady's honor is to be protected still rattles around my head. But just what is honor in this context? Is it:

+ courteous regard?

+ a sign of high respect?

+ a euphemism for her maidenhead?

+ a misogynistic possessive demeaning of female self-will?

+ a misguided object of male bravura?

+ the distillation of all those gloomy novels from the Brontë sisters?


Jane Eyre aside, it's quite possible that feminism, the pill and the success of  Us Weekly mean that female honor is defunct. This is the honor that I define thusly:

+ the granting of intimacy and sexual favors on a more-or-less exclusive basis in return for physical protection and support.

So a man defending a woman's honor is pretty much about his willingness to acknowledge that they're going steady. And to challenge other guys intending to change that. With pistols at dawn, if necessary.

Yeah, we can do without that, right?




Bottoms Up, You Lovebirds You.

Love, Sex and Intimacy - Wombatgram #13

Click on Wombatgram to enlarge.

Is it possible that the troika of love, sex and intimacy circumscribe our relationship life?

If so, the volume of each element varies with the nature of each relationship, as does the geometry between them.

We'll all be different.




Bottoms Up, Thinkers.

Intimacy

If we distill what we're looking for, I think the liquor we want is intimacy.

Sex is a part of intimacy, but only if we understand the other person. The corollary is that we can have intimacy without sex. You might not agree with that, and I understand why. Intimacy, however, is like understanding mountains: you can climb them, or you can observe them. Either way you can be awed and changed. One need not preclude the other to find wonderment.

One non-negotiable element of intimacy is closeness. LDRs, phone sex, letters and sexting: none of these make for, or even add to, an intimate relationship.

Intimacy is way more about vulnerability than much else. Admission of weakness; owning up to uncertainty; willingness to risk emotional ruin: these are the inputs to an intimate time.

I'd go further. Some of the most intimate moments with women are those before sex arises. Tension between men and women magnifies the closeness, highlights what's missing. These are delicious seconds, or, if you can resist the urge to toss off your kit and shag, minutes.

Anticipation and delayed gratification. Damn them.



Bottoms Up, Delayers!