Let's See Your Identity

Three declarations:


Hi, I'm Wombat. I'm heterosexual. 


Hello. My name is Monique, and I'm a lesbian. 


Hey there. I am Thomas. I'm gay.


Which one is the odd one out?

To my eye, it's my own statement. No-one cares that my sexual preference includes women only, and frankly, that seems about right. I don't care about anyone else's either. Your congressional activities are your business.

So does that mean homosexual men and women describing themselves by way of their sexual preference sounds more natural? Maybe. But let's examine this more closely. Is it really these folks who so publically identify? I think not. I have never been introduced to a man, to have him immediately go to his sexuality, whether gay or not. Ditto any woman. People identify contextually, viz:

Hi, I'm Pete, and I'm the network administrator. 

Hello, my name is Andrea. I'm the CEO.

Why, darling, I'm Natasha. You can think of me any way you want.

Okay, that last one was a red herring. Kinda.

..<<!>>..

It's always others who attach sexuality to the individual.

Why does this happen? Why does my acquaintance Lindsay always end up "Lindsay the Lesbian"? It's certainly not her. And I've worked with gay men before who were often referred to as "Gay....Dave/Larry/Tony". Sure, they were homosexual, but made no more if it than I did of my heterosexuality - in fact, they were most often the least forthcoming about that part of their lives.

There is no point to my questions, other than to muse over the importance with which we rank our sexual being...and how public we make it.



Bottoms Up, Sexual Clarifiers.

Sex is Awkward

You might think that the natural companion to sex with a new lover is satisfaction, right? That might be partially true, but awkwardness will be an acquaintance for at least part of that journey.

Sex is the natural outflow of physical attraction and desire, like a volcano combines crustal weakness and hot magma. Mmmmmmm, magma. Volcanoes, unlike us, aren't raised to have self-awareness, which means that they don't get embarrassed when they leak molten rock all over the duvet. A spurting volcanic eruption, wide open caldera, full-throated screaming and frantic bubbling are the hallmarks of vociferous volcanology.

Once the pressure is released, so to speak, there exists a gap in time where the passion subsides, and reality returns. My thinking is that the awkwardness we feel in that immediate aftermath of an...eruption is part embarrassment at revealing our unvarnished, animal side, and part wondering whether our new partner thinks we're okay.

Will they think enough of us to come check out our geophysics a second time, or will they just want to toss us a bunch of virgins?



Bottoms Up, Hot Pockets of Love.

Lessons From My Cat - Part 5

Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea. 

Robert A Heinlein

Since reading "The Game" back when it first was published, I've been an admirer of the Society of Pick-Up Artists. The book itself was a minor triumph of genius, and the world it describes a testament to single-mindedness. Men with the wherewithal to dedicate their entire beings to bedding babes deserve my admiration, if not outright respect. 

The PUA devotion to duty isn't for everyone. If all guys were out there peacocking, it would be a weird world all around. And, of course, the magic would stop working. Differentiation is a large part of being a PUA - without slobs, there's no advantage. If everyone can afford an iPhone, the aspirational price difference disappears.  

Women, fortunately, aren't iPhones, even if they're both beautiful, smooth and weighted just right. Women don't have the same kind of focus on men, because they don't need the same kind of focus. There is no PUA movement for ladies. Which isn't to say that women aren't interested in finding the hot guy, because obviously they are. It's just that their tactics are different. 

Cats provide the best way of explaining how this works. A cat's focus, like a woman's, can change in a split second. Right now my cat might be grooming, looking as content as can be; then suddenly she's off inspecting her territory, checking the fence-line. Instantly, she'll stop and spend thirty minutes staring into space, as if she's waiting for someone to tell her how beautiful she is, and the next she'll be sitting on my keyboard actively pushing for attention. It's all very....unpredictable. If you're a male, that is. 

The recipe for men here is to understand the following: 

+ don't ever attempt to predict a woman; it will drive you crazy.

+ be consistent; I give my cat shelter, food, warmth, love and care at all times. I am rewarded with affection on her timetable. That's the deal. Consider being a rock with your woman.

+ the above doesn't stop me trying to get a purr started; no harm in trying.

+ it's a weird quantum universe, so you'll never know what your woman sees in you. Don't think about it. Just be the best you can be, and all good things will follow. 

+ women's sexual motor doesn't idle like ours; it can be off altogether, and will require starting. (See purr-starting attempts above.) Mostly if you're good, it'll work, but there's no certainty. If you fail, wait a while and try again. 

+ work with what you're given.

You see, although I think the PUA guys are on to something, it's a very long ride to a short payoff. The lads are constantly paddling into the surf break to find the one wave that's going in their direction. The other way is to be at one with the ocean, sit quietly on your board and wait for the wave to come to you. 

Bottoms Up, Surfriding Dudes.

Bang and Regret

Somehow, without an instruction book or half-decent advice (ahem) we all have to figure out our own sexuality. That word - sexuality - frankly gives me the creeps, because it sounds manufactured by robots in a factory somewhere. I prefer sexual tastes, or sexual understanding or even personal sexual architecture.

Yeah, maybe not so much.

In any case, sex is one of the few human activities that involves our physical being, our intelligent being, our spiritual being and even our moral being, all tied up with a ribbon in one big beautiful lusty box. It's a cornucopia of stuff that can make us feel as big as the universe, as hot as the sun and as empty as space, all at one time.

So where to begin? Mostly, by not listening to anyone else. Parents through the ages, up to and including today, do a universally rotten job at explaining sex. And they concentrate on the physical, reproductive result, which even our bodies recognize as a side effect. Sex is first and foremost about pleasure, about feeling good. Start there, and we can then understand how nature tricks us into unplanned pregnancy - because she's wily, that's why.

Sex feels so good that it can overcome all kinds of logical arguments and commitments. No sex before marriage vows are admirable but completely unrealistic in my opinion. But sex on the first date with a complete stranger is likewise pretty dopey too. Somewhere in the middle is a smart compromise, but no-one ever expands on how that should work either. Try asking your mum or dad tonight how they view that conundrum.

Then there's the tricky problems we can find ourselves tangled in. Married and having an affair. Single and having an affair with someone who's married. Choosing someone who treats us poorly. Finding someone wonderful and messing it up. Thinking that there's more out there, when your own personal sexual architecture would be completely satisfied with just what you have. Thinking you're satisfied, but secretly looking for a whooooollllle lot more.

That last point is critical. Knowing what combination of lust, love, physicality, mental attraction, compatibility, respect and humour is right for you, is everything. Unfortunately, there is no Dummies Guide to Your Own Sexuality, it's all bang and regret.

Or not.


Bottoms Up, Critical Shaggers.

The Dating Checklist

Gradually, it's becoming clearer to me that a wish list - a dating wish list - isn't as productive as I might have thought.

That mental checklist we all keep of the qualities and attributes of that special someone is normal and of some value, but we always need to be willing to toss it away. The very act of permitting ourselves to ignore our preconceived ideas of who is right and who is wrong for us is liberating. It's an acknowledgment of the fact that life is chaotic, and we never know who is just around the corner.

The idea of filtering people appeals to us because it cuts down on possibilities. When you're in the market for people, the choice is more-or-less infinite. It's more confusing than the cereal aisle at the supermarket, but even there knowing what you want should give way to the experience of finding something new. When you want granola and know it, that's a good thing - until you discover something better.

But finding the person who meshes perfectly (or as perfectly as possible) isn't so simple. For one thing, we are only rarely sufficiently self-aware to know how we fit with any random person. For another, life has a way of throwing stuff and people at us that we just didn't think existed. In essence, we all think that our brains and experience are all-encompassing, and that nothing can surprise us. That's a form of arrogance, and not good if you're truly open-minded about exploring every possibility offered up.




Bottoms Up, Open-Minders.

Wow! Subtle.

Desperation comes in many forms, none so blind as the person who hangs on to another person beyond the life of their relationship - no matter how short.

Men and women can both overlook critical, possibly damaging qualities and behaviours in their sig others, but there is a timing difference, at least in my experience.

Women overlook rottenness in a man early in the relationship, almost before it's begun.

Men will overlook exactly the same kind of rottenness in a woman late in a relationship, when it's nearly done.

Of course, of course, this is a generalization, and either sex can fit into either category, or neither. But the mechanism is clear to me: when a woman is of a mind to have a man in her life, she'll squeeze him into her criteria with a shoe-horn and bacon grease. When a man has been given the time to discover a woman is (ostensibly) the one for him, he'll hold onto her, even after everyone else can see they're not a match.

The fundamental difference here is that women, in general, feel that the incompatibilities - or sheer unacceptabilities - of a man she wants are within her ability to change. She can smooth out any rough edges, no matter how ingrained. Guys tend to figure that the (bad) stuff that makes them draw a quick breathe will spread, and so are best avoided. Yes, we'll still have sex if it's available, but a commitment...perhaps not.

However, if we do make a commitment over a period of time, we'll stick with it, maybe because we're afraid of being demonstrably wrong. That's our ego talking, a voice we need to ignore way more often.



Bottoms Up, Humans.

To Protect and Provide

 Melinda Clarke

Whether it's a tipping point, a turning point or simply a point of inflection, there's something in the wind out there. Not that it's an overnight shift nor even noticeable year-to-year, but I smell a sea-change.

Specifically, men want to protect and provide for their women.

And women seem to neither want nor need either service.

If true, this means more change to relationships, marriage, child-rearing and old-age. Whither men if we're needed only as suppliers of DNA? 





Bottoms Up, Changeagents.

Target Practice

Virginia Mayo

I shall state for the record that I'm opposed to squeezable mayonnaise. Squeeze-bottle mayo poses two dilemmas, linked like yin and yang:

A. It's squeezable, making it too easy to dispense and over-dispense, and

B. It's mayonnaise, which has the worst nutrition/devil-food ratio of any substance known to man.

Mayo was invented by people who used it like cocaine (by the gram), but in glorious fashion, we've figured to offer it like lube in a Thai whorehouse.


Unless you are one of those aforementioned whores doing ten tricks a day (expending a gazillion calories) mayo should be treated like a schedule two drug. I'm looking for such a warning on my bottle of mayo right now.

So if one has a weight target to maintain or attain, one should choose one's target foods carefully. I figure it's the same with one's sex diet. If we're after someone for body-slamming only, we need to know that we're partaking of that particular food group. If we're after someone to be a public partner, that's another group of people, and so on. Matching motives is the goal.

For every person who owns up to being in a particular relationship frame of mind, there's another who actually has different motives. Lots of people say they're after only a hook-up, but like plans for war this attitude rarely survives first contact. Someone squeezes the mayo, and uh-oh; things move beyond the simply physical.

What I'm trying to say is that to know one's own mind will save much heartache. The most frustrating and deceptive person you'll ever meet looks back at you from the mirror every day. A good sit-down chat with them will get you closer to clarity of motive.




Bottoms Up, Tartare Sauces.