Things seemed to be going incredibly well for a while. I had recently graduated, run off for the summer on my very first roadtrip (which came crashing down around our ears when I...er...crashed the car. But let's not quibble over details), and had come home to intern at a magazine I'd dreamed of working for since forever. Le Boyfriend and I couldn't have been happier, sushi and open bars seemed to be the order of the day when going out with friends, and I had another internship (a paying one this time, thank you to the God of Cash Flow) lined up for my return from a two-week sojourn in Jo'burg, where I got to wake up at ten, watch Sex and the City all day and finish a bottle of red wine a night with the delicious Boyfriend.
I should have known the gods were just lulling me into a false sense of security. The bastards.
Return from Jo'burg. Best Life magazine - of the paying internship loveliness - has folded. Fuck the recession.
Unemployed for a month now, and living with my parents.
Decided to ignore my serious lack of funds and go for sushi and cocktails on Sunday night with Noodle and Darling. Forgot to book, and waited an hour for a table. Decided to make the best of the situation by horribly embarrassing myself. Laughed and swallowed some PappySuckle Vinotini (I know...wtf?) at the same time, resulting in a lovely ten minutes of hacking coughing, frantically begging the none-too-interested barmen for water, and trying not to let my tears (of laughter? pain? I'm not even sure really) ruin my eyeliner.
And then at gym this morning had to deal with the shame of dying of exhaustion while the countless middle-aged moms surrounding my mat put me to shame doing crunch aftter crunch after crunch.
Something's gotta give.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Saturday, March 14, 2009
My attempt at a Carrie Bradshaw/Cosmopolitan type sex piece
Lately I've been pondering the importance of sex. Apart from being necessary for procreation of the species, and giving us something fun to talk about over cocktails, how much emphasis do we, or should we, place on the Deed? Sex is everywhere these days - on TV, on magazine covers, in detergent commercials. There's no getting away from it.
But what about getting it? Twenty-somethings seem to have turned the pursuit of getting laid into an Olympic sport. And if that's the case, then what are the rules? And what are the records? After all, nobody likes finishing in last place. And when you've found somebody who'll run the race with you on a regular basis, what then?
Every relationship starts off with what my friends like to call the 'honeymoon phase', those magical first few months when you stay in bed for hours on weekend mornings (and not to read the Sunday Times) and if you get up at all it's to shower - together. You can't wait to see each other, just kissing him is better than having a whole slab of Pistachio Lindt to yourself and, of course, the sex is fantastic.
Of course, the honeymoon never lasts. Whether that's a good or bad thing depends on the relationship. Once the first fog of infatuation has cleared, and you really start to see each other clearly, you either fall in love...or fall apart. Fair enough...but if you do stay together, what about the sex?
Most experts would say that when you reach a new level in your relationship, the ripping-each-other's-clothes-off heat of passion is replaced by the slow burn of real intimacy, which is often more intense, rather than less. Not only are you comfortable enough with your partner to really give it your all between the sheets, but he's bound to have figured out (or have been taught by you) exactly how to push your pleasure buttons.
Quality aside, what about quantity? In those first few months, being in bed (or in the bath, or on the couch, or in the kitchen) together seems like more of an excuse to get each other naked than anything else. So when do things tick over to sex every night no longer being on the cards? All it takes is one night of you both being too tired for more than a goodnight kiss and the platonic sleepover wiggles its way into your repertoire of bedroom moves. You start sleeping together, without actually sleeping together.
I'm still undecided as to whether this is necessarily a bad thing, but occasionally I wonder if we should be using our sex lives as a measure for what's going on in our relationships. If there's a significant dip in frequency, should we drive ourselves crazy over-analysing and trying to figure out why? Probably not. Questions such as, 'Isn't he attracted to me anymore?', 'Did I do something he didn't like?' or even, 'Is he gay?' will only send us to the bottom of the nearest vodka lime. Sometimes he really is tired.
Having said that, there are a couple of bedroom red flags that are cause for concern in the bigger picture too. For instance, if it's you who's no longer interested in being sexual with him, ask yourself why. Are you letting other areas of your life intrude into the bedroom? Lying awake thinking about a deadline at work can make you oblivious to that tingling between your thighs. Or have your feelings for him slowly evaporated while your mind was elsewhere? You might not constantly want to rip his jockeys off, but some lust is necessary for any kind of functioning relationship.
Secondly, intimacy doesn't only mean sex. If kisses, cuddles and conversations have disappeared along with the sex, you have to wonder if things haven't downgraded from boyfriend and girlfriend, to just friends.
And, of course, if you can't remember the last time the two of you did anything remotely of a sexual nature, then chances are it's over and you're both just too scared to admit it. Man up, break up, and then hook up with someone else. Life's too short not to be having regular, good sex. And the rabbit doesn't count.
But what about getting it? Twenty-somethings seem to have turned the pursuit of getting laid into an Olympic sport. And if that's the case, then what are the rules? And what are the records? After all, nobody likes finishing in last place. And when you've found somebody who'll run the race with you on a regular basis, what then?
Every relationship starts off with what my friends like to call the 'honeymoon phase', those magical first few months when you stay in bed for hours on weekend mornings (and not to read the Sunday Times) and if you get up at all it's to shower - together. You can't wait to see each other, just kissing him is better than having a whole slab of Pistachio Lindt to yourself and, of course, the sex is fantastic.
Of course, the honeymoon never lasts. Whether that's a good or bad thing depends on the relationship. Once the first fog of infatuation has cleared, and you really start to see each other clearly, you either fall in love...or fall apart. Fair enough...but if you do stay together, what about the sex?
Most experts would say that when you reach a new level in your relationship, the ripping-each-other's-clothes-off heat of passion is replaced by the slow burn of real intimacy, which is often more intense, rather than less. Not only are you comfortable enough with your partner to really give it your all between the sheets, but he's bound to have figured out (or have been taught by you) exactly how to push your pleasure buttons.
Quality aside, what about quantity? In those first few months, being in bed (or in the bath, or on the couch, or in the kitchen) together seems like more of an excuse to get each other naked than anything else. So when do things tick over to sex every night no longer being on the cards? All it takes is one night of you both being too tired for more than a goodnight kiss and the platonic sleepover wiggles its way into your repertoire of bedroom moves. You start sleeping together, without actually sleeping together.
I'm still undecided as to whether this is necessarily a bad thing, but occasionally I wonder if we should be using our sex lives as a measure for what's going on in our relationships. If there's a significant dip in frequency, should we drive ourselves crazy over-analysing and trying to figure out why? Probably not. Questions such as, 'Isn't he attracted to me anymore?', 'Did I do something he didn't like?' or even, 'Is he gay?' will only send us to the bottom of the nearest vodka lime. Sometimes he really is tired.
Having said that, there are a couple of bedroom red flags that are cause for concern in the bigger picture too. For instance, if it's you who's no longer interested in being sexual with him, ask yourself why. Are you letting other areas of your life intrude into the bedroom? Lying awake thinking about a deadline at work can make you oblivious to that tingling between your thighs. Or have your feelings for him slowly evaporated while your mind was elsewhere? You might not constantly want to rip his jockeys off, but some lust is necessary for any kind of functioning relationship.
Secondly, intimacy doesn't only mean sex. If kisses, cuddles and conversations have disappeared along with the sex, you have to wonder if things haven't downgraded from boyfriend and girlfriend, to just friends.
And, of course, if you can't remember the last time the two of you did anything remotely of a sexual nature, then chances are it's over and you're both just too scared to admit it. Man up, break up, and then hook up with someone else. Life's too short not to be having regular, good sex. And the rabbit doesn't count.
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