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.

Under the Doormat

Dating and being with someone should be as natural as breathing, shouldn't it.

Shouldn't it?

So if it's not that simple, why not, and why do we spend so much time working at it?

All successful relationships have one factor in common, which is a mutual fit of expectation and willingness.

Willingness is the lock into which we insert our expectation.

Expectation is the key we hope fits his or her willingness.

We all have a lock, and we all have a key. We're not only looking for the person with the right lock for our key, we're also hoping that person has the right key for our lock.

If you think the odds are bad for finding that person, be not discouraged. We all have the power to change our own lock and our own key. You decide whether you have one of those long, complicated, difficult to replicate keys, or whether you prefer a more simple style. Likewise your lock.

However, as with any endeavour in this universe, there is an element of luck - aka randomness - involved. You might have the most straightforward lock, and a standard (but secure) key, and still not find the one.

Not today, anyway.




Bottoms Up, Locksmiths.

Chaos and Cupcakes

Madalina Ghenea

I need help completing the following:

The way to a woman's heart is.....

I raise this in the context of that old simplistic generalization:

The way to a man's heart is via his stomach. 

Let me be clear that I'm not about to defend - even in jest - this kind of  aphorism. To do so thesedays requires sixty-five pages of exceptions, eight declarations about domestic stereotypes and a dozen portion size disclaimers. What I will say is that any woman who presents me with a hot plate of beautifully roasted chicken, fresh green vegetables and a small serving of garlic mashed potato might find herself the object of my (relationship-appropriate) affection.

Just sayin'.


Here's one possible answer to my question.


Bottoms Up, Food Networkers.

Green Light, You Fool! Go!

Emma Caulfield

As a younger man I was a complete bonehead wrt women. I remember (amongst a few such incidents) a particular Saturday morning. The lovely dark-haired young lady and I had been on a couple of dates, and we planned to spend the morning out and about. We drove around to her mother's house, a substantial pile in a sweet part of town. Mother wasn't home. As we wandered the rooms, I failed to notice that her gorgeousness was wearing a very flirty dress, spent a lot of time close to me, and lingered long in her childhood bedroom showing me bits and pieces from earlier days. Only later did I realize just how bright and clear her green lights shone in my direction.

Damn. Another opportunity missed.

What was I thinking? In retrospect she was SHOUTING at me to CAPITALIZE on her horniness.



The single, active, hetero man requires two core skills.

1. Be able to find, charm, envelope and start the motor of attractive single women.

2. Know when attractive single women have found, chosen, and desire them.

These are the light and shade of satisfying our sexual desire. To get what biology drives us towards, we must navigate the female defenses and/or know when the drawbridge is down.

Unfortunately, the two sides of this coin share little by way of requisite skills. Going out and (effectively) hunting a woman is the light. It's the time-worn Hemmingway-esque approach that relies on confidence, optimism, showmanship and out-gunning the next guy. It's the shotgun blast and reload approach.

The shade is different. If a woman chooses, it calls for a more careful thought process. The subtleties of this path to heaven-on-earth sometimes elude younger, less mature man. Ahem. Clearly, I speak from experience, and now I understand it, would happily live in the shade. 





Bottoms Up, You Subtle Wonders You.

Kissing Confidential

Gwendolyn Whiteside's photo credit. 

I was seven and she was seven. She kissed me once, then she kissed me again. She turned into my first kissing partner, a classroom conspiracy engineered by her. I was a lost but complicit co-conspirator, unsure of what it was all about. Why is she doing this? What part should I be playing here? Why does she taste so good?

Jane Phillips, where are you? Wanna give it another shot?

The kissing faded, as did her ardor for me. Perhaps our mutual lack of make-out skills doomed us from the start, but my suspicion is that I killed it. Too much thinking, not enough action. I should have just rolled with it, especially as Jane not only brought extra lunch to school for me, but went out of her way to walk home with me too. She was the definition of the perfect girlfriend. With memory of the kissing faded, what remained was her smell, which I can conjur to this day.

But Jane wasn't the first person to kiss me. That would, presumably, have been my mother. Right, so they're two completely different kinds of kissing, but they're the same physical action separated only by context. Interesting that at a family function we can kiss a close friend or relative as a sign of connection and fealty, then go on to kiss our wife or husband and communicate something so much more. Kissing is both an instrument of alliance and of overt sexuality.

If you're a mechanistic evolutionist you'd look for a reason for the kiss. For kissing to survive as a behaviour it must have some benefit for both parties. Let's see. There is the transfer of germs - good for babies acquiring their parents' immune sophistication. There is the shared smell of swapping skin flakes and saliva - a sort of hazmat solidarity. And there's the busting of the very last ring of personal space - a what's yours is mine suspension of physical defences. Add up these elements and we have that most endearing of human qualities, the ability to give yourself to another, signalled by the pressing of one's mouth onto the body, head or mouth of another.

Evolution is a brutal judge of superfluous behaviour. Kissing survives for only one reason, and that is because it aids species continuation. Kissing is a quick and dirty way of figuring out if you're a sexual match. Bad kisser, bad lover. If she tastes wrong, she probably is wrong. On the other hand, someone who gives good kiss moves a long way up the list of preferred partners, and, speaking personally, a good kisser is a heavenly gift notwithstanding the outcome. A good kisser stands alone as such, or can lead to extra complexity ie: another generation of kissers.

Which brings me to the undeniable fact - that kissing has power beyond simple intimacy. We're social creatures, and we're tactile too. We want to meld with a special other, and the power of this drive appears to go beyond mere reproduction. At a fundamental level, we understand that attachment to another one and then descending levels of closeness to relatives and non-related individuals in concentric circles fulfills us. It's tribalism, the need to belong and know that we belong. Hence the kiss of enormous variation, from the humble kissing of the hand - at your service, Your Majesty - to the unbridled heat of connection during sex.

 Kissing sends the universal message - I want to be a part of you.




Bottoms Up, You Big Beautiful Kissers You.

Disinformation

Intellectualizing relationships makes for awesome dinner party schtick. Two reactions stand out:

I know! That's so true!

or

Silence.

The latter indicates that someone's feeling flushed-out or guilty.

Whichever.

We make mental lists of ideal qualities. She/he should be like this, look like that, think like the other. I'll know her when I meet her, she'll stand out like New York in Las Vegas.

In real life we meet prospects who kinda sorta fit our perfect template, and depending upon our level of desperation, we'll ignore whatever doesn't.

* shrug *

This is real life, baby, it ain't no fantasy. Eighty percent compatibility feels like it's the most we can hope for. That prolly goes for life in general.

However. There's always the however. Because the urge to be with someone (read: continue the species) overpowers everything, we are supremely adept at ignoring warning signs in prospects. He's a drug-using philanderer with a history of unemployment and using prostitutes. But he's my John now.

Settle. Go for it. Go on. But don't then expect your day in court when it doesn't work out.





Bottoms Up Deniers.

Changes, Not the David Bowie Kind.

Leena Huff from here.

Awesome though female liberation is, it has a few kinks. (No, not those kind of kinks you Ponyplay/S&M/Doctor&Nurse/PublicSex/Latex/Goretex/Wrapping/Bondage/Lingerie/Swinging devotees, you.)

Kinks that spring to mind are the kind which lead to misunderstandings. Mostly they're misunderstandings of intention, along these lines:

He's cute and I like him. Why won't he fuck me?

Right, let us begin.

1. He might want to fuck you, but just not right now. No reason.

2. He might want to fuck you, but wants to make sure...of something he might not be able to articulate.

3. He might want to fuck you, but wants you to stop being the aggressor so he can do it his way.

4. He might want to fuck you but just has a lot on his mind right about now.

5. He might want to fuck you, but needs time to work out something you know nothing about.

6. He might want to fuck you, but wants to tell you something first.

7. He might want to fuck you, but wants to make sure it doesn't stop at one.

8. He might want to fuck you, but within the confines of some kind of commitment.

And so on.

Or he might NOT want to fuck you, but can't bring himself to say the words. No man wants to say:

I don't know why, but I cannot fuck you.

Nothing good ever comes from that statement.






Bottoms Up, Kinksters.

Charm is Over-rated

Picture credit

Observations of the qualities women choose in men:

~ charm is over-rated, as is persistence.

~ the ability to take charge and swift decision-making are useful abstract qualities.

~ height and dress sense are valuable physical assets.

~ sexual skill is of middling importance.

~ either youthfulness OR mature mastery are equal attractors.

~ being a kind of benign dictator works a treat.

~ uniforms, of a military bent, or a nice suit, make a difference.


Romantics like me don't stand a chance in front of this. A man who communicates, has a sense of humour and is self-deprecatory is SO underwater in the dating game, like so much by-catch.

Wherever did I get the idea that these things were valuable?




Bottoms Up, Survivors.

Energy Drinks

Picture credit, Samantha, archetypal hotness.

My friend Samantha and I had drinks tonight. She's looking as foxy as ever, which does nothing to explain why it's been nearly three months since last we took wine.

Or maybe it does.

If you're a single guy (like me) and a single woman (like Sam), there's an energy surrounding the two of us, like any energetic non-related couple. We share singlehood and all the mysteries THAT presents, for better or worse. We're like brothers-in-arms in the dating wars.

Sam's friend Maria happened along, so your humble correspondent was now surrounded by primo tail - not to disparage the ladies. Men think of all kinds of stuff in terms of meat and lobster metaphors. Surf and turf isn't simply a dining concoction.

I asked Maria to name the five qualities she sought in any man with whom she might share a future. She said:

:-> honesty
:-> integrity
:-> morality
:-> ability to communicate
:-> extremely hot bod

One of these is not accurate.

The point is that every woman wants - in a man - the opposite of those characteristics she's been stung by in previous men. No surprise, and no obvious insight into human nature there. What's troubling is by working to find the opposite of what attracts us, we go all around the world...and end up in exactly the same place.





Bottoms Up, Samanthas.