Tuesday, 5 February 2013

Oh, To Be Young Again.....

I had the good sense to start dating young. The point where asking out a guy was really not that big a deal. The point where if a guy wasn't interested, they straight up told me they weren't. But as I got older (and thank God, more picky), it just got more freaking complicated. There were rules, and signals to read, and like a freaking flowchart to follow when you started talking to a dude, or even just noticed him from afar. My imagination got elaborate, I was told that I had select guys with futures, at sixteen. I could barely think past whether I could save enough money for the next event, or if I really, really had to do my Maths project today 
(there's always in the morning).
Today I read a post that just kinda blew the wind out of my sails. All your life, well girls at least, we're taught that if a guy is either particularly nice, or particularly mean (if he has the brain of a Neanderthal), it means that he's interested, and that we should, with caution, proceed. Give him hints, he's a smart guy, he'll get it. But not too subtle, cause in the end, men are simple creatures. 
What a load of bull. What we, as girls again, perceive to be particularly nice, is usually guys basic courtesy. You know, holding the door open, replying to messages, maintaining a basic conversation. For some reason, in our heads, that's just not what most normal people do, most normal people are bitches who slam the door in your face and never reply to messages and always cut you off. Right? Right? Eh, wrong. Guys don't think like girls. They. Like. Backups. Sure, he might not be interested now, but you never know, there could be a day when he's just striking out completely, and he needs to know that he's really not that bad with girls. Or maybe he's just chicken, bat shit terrified of the crap storm that may come after telling you a point blank no. So they kinda string you along. Keep you in the guessing phase. You know, the point where you're not sure if going for coffee is a date, or a friend thing. Or when you don't know whether to scrap it, or act on it. Or even when you start to really think about whether him liking your facebook photo/ blog post/ instagram/insert-social-media-thingy-here is a sign, or just plain old niceness. 
And to be honest, to any guys out there, that's just mean. Not even like oops mean, like full on, bitch mode, Blair Waldorf, Mean Girls, Torture a couple of puppies kinda mean. You have this girl, who's dangling on a string like some worm, waiting for you to bait her and you're just sitting there purporting it. You can't even say it's in her head, she has stone cold evidence, all the texts, the suggestions to meet up, the conversations, you honestly lead her to believe that there was some hope. And that makes you a bad person. Your nice people membership has officially been revoked. Jackass. 
I think we should go back to the way we were when we were kids. Ish was so simple then. People told others what they really thought. There was no being nice, there was what I wanted, what I didn't want, and what was just right. And that's how it should be. Just be straight up with people, dudes and chicks. And if you have to, get some mase ready. If you need to bring in the popo, I suggest doing it over the phone, that'd be easier. And safer.  But at some point in everyone's life, including Heidi-freaking-Klum, we've been strung out by someone, someone who made us think there was more than there actually was. And it hurts. Like shit. The kind that even Tangy Cheese doritos, and choccie covered fingers can't heal. Because now it's not just a  question of being rejected anymore, you feel stupid. And humilliated. And hurt. And that takes a lot more work to get over, than a simple effing rejection. So don't do it. Pretty please?

I'll link the post here, cause everybody, young and old needs it. Read it, and get with the damn program. Screw being nice, do the right thang. (Best Spike Lee movie ever :p)


Now excuse me while I go delete some fools' numbers :p

Saturday, 2 February 2013

The Dying Art of Flirtation

"So, I could walk you home.."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"I could walk you home, if you want."

No fool,  i don't want you to walk me home. And I have no idea how you could think that. We were talking about people spelling names wrong. How the hell did you jump from that to “let’s go home”? Honestly, people are just downright lazy nowadays. Yes people, not just me, women have become lazy too. The other day, my brother told me that the cool thing to reply to a guy’s line is “Umeninice”. The dude just gave up his time come up with something, and you reply in some half English, half Swahilli crap? That’s the best you could come with?
          I dunno, maybe Jane Austen and Old School movies have spoilt me. I mean, a couple hundred years ago they didn’t even mention the word sex. It was all “Even if all the silkworms in China were fed on the softest cream from (insert dairy country here), they would not produce silk worthy of being compared to your skin”. Or something like “your lips bring to mind the harvest of autumn berries, lush in the sun”. Phrases that made you feel special, like you were worthy of some thought, like you’re just a little bit special.
          Even in the 90’s it was different, movies like Love Jones, where Darius makes up an entire poem within minutes of meeting Nina. A whole freaking poem. It wasn’t like it was lovey dovey or anything, I’m pretty sure most of it had to do with the meeting of her thighs or something. And music, Miguel’s Adorn, oh Heaven on Earth, if that was a pick up line, I would be in the dude’s car before he got to the second verse. He’s asking if you can take his love, and FREAKING WEAR IT. That’s just beyond sexy now.
          It could just be me. Maybe I’m just an old soul or something. And I’m not saying that if you hit me up with a poem, I’m going to go home with you, it’s just that if you thought about a line, any line and worked it in wittily or as a joke or hell, if you said anything, ANYTHING but your version of ‘Let’s get it on’, you’d have a better chance. And girls, when did we become so accepting of half-assed lines? I pretty sure there was a time when a guy would get chewed out for saying some of the stuff that guys get away with today. Who allowed it to become so bloody easy for guys? And where can I find them, so I can kill them?
          Like I said, could just be me. But hit me with a ‘your place or mine’, and you’ll be in for a cold, blue night J

Wednesday, 12 December 2012

Unspoken Lingua: When Anatomies Speak

So today's post is from an awesome, amazing blogger Laila Khan whoI  thought would be able to give a new 'non-virgin' perspective. Cause hey, I don't know jack about what I'm talking about! :) Hope to read more from her... well, yeah, she's definitely posting again :) ENJOY!!!!

So I was asked to write this post by someone I unfortunately am unable to say no to. I was asked to write from the ‘experienced’ side so in a way I guess I am the voice of the non-virgin. I would like to put out a disclaimer though that I am not by any means the voice of every non-virgin out there. Our experiences differ and as such this post is subject strictly to my personal experience. Let’s get to it then shall we?
I have been repetitively accused (and rightfully so) of over-thinking things. Especially when it comes to sexual situations. I’m just one of those people who don’t like to get into a situation without knowing what the aftermath will be. Before I lost my virginity, I read every book on sex I could get my hands on, talked to as many experienced people as I could find, but when I eventually got around to doing it, it was nothing like I imagined or expected. It sucked!
What I didn’t take into consideration, is the fact that sex isn’t some sort of exam or interview that you can prep for in order to ace. It’s a biological process…. It’s physical. You don’t need to hear about it or read about it, it’s something that you do!
‘The art of sex is the art is the art of controlled abandon….’
I’ve always believed that sex or any sexual act for that matter is like a secret language that two bodies share. A language that the mind isn’t quite able to decipher. A wordless speech….. a speechless dialogue.
‘Profound desire, true desire is the desire to be close to someone. From that point onwards, things change the man and the woman come into play, but what happens before- the attraction that brought them together- is impossible to explain. It’s untouched desire in its purest state’
I found this out when I met this guy. He was smart as hell with a body that would literally leave you dumbfounded. And we never could hold a conversation…… not with words anyway.
His smile however, would cause me to involuntarily bite my lower lip and when our lips met….. how do I explain this properly? It’s like that first bite off your favourite desert that you have to savour first before you’re ready for the next bite. Oh yes! Those sweet, savoury kisses 
His hand on my waist, pulling me so close that my stomach could feel each one of the three paired ripples on his torso… and somehow everything would progress in flawless motion. Our hands would know exactly where to be and things just fell in place as they should.

I’m sure you know where I was going with that. Had to stop there, we don’t wana turn this blog into another type of blog (if you know what I mean.) My point is we need to remember that sex is above everything else a physical act; and to fully experience it, you don’t need to prep or to think…… no words…… you just need to let go and let your body do the talking for you.

Monday, 10 December 2012

Rules of Engagement

I hate dating in the 21st Century. I mean, back in the day, you saw a girl/guy, you liked him/her, you asked the parents wasup and you went with it. There was no dialogue, no flirting, no texting, no freaking butterflies while you wait for them to reply. And more importantly, no freaking rules. There are rules for everything nowadays, when you can add them on Facebook  What you can text to them, what you can reply, when you should reply, who should text first, when you shouldn't text first, what it means if you text first, like bloody hell, it shouldn't be this hard to have a proper effing conversation with someone!

It just makes you think though, is it actually meant to be this hard? Are you seriously supposed to think and panic and worry about how you come off to the person at the beginning? Because the problem is this, like I said in the technology post, when you think about something so much, it just stops being you at some point. And all this waiting a day and not texting first and not replying before a couple of minutes pass, it just becomes this sort of game of who seems, I dunno, more interested? And is it such a bad thing to be interested? I mean, why do we spend so much time in making sure the person doesn't know how interested we are in them? I mean, if they're not interested, then it's going to come off in certain ways, like they don't hold the conversation, or if they're either really nice or really mean, they'll spell it out for you as clear as crystal. But at the beginning, and this counts for guys as well, when honest to God, all you're doing is thinking about this person, and you're pretty sure it's not one sided but no. You sit there and wait for some sort of ordained sign that it's safe for you to reach out, you wait for them to bite the bullet first, not knowing that they're doing the exact same gosh darn thing!

And the thing about not seeming desperate, desperate to me is texting everyday. I don't have enough time to text my mother everyday, let alone a guy I'm crushing on. Desperate would be hanging off their every word and analysing everything they've said so far and remembering stuff that you really shouldn't remember, that's desperate. Texting him/her after a couple of days, no. And if it's one sided, then yeah, maybe you should cool off. But if they texts you too, in fact if they were the one who started the whole thing, then for gosh sake, stop being silly and playing small mind games where there are rules for everything. And if they're playing games with you, then maybe they're not worth your time at all. And that's the one case where you should definitely stop texting them.

Opinions? Comments? Feel free to tell me if you think I'm completely bat shit crazy. You would not be the first. 

Sunday, 9 December 2012

Ayo, I'm tired of using technology.....

Disclosure: I just found out that it's practically impossible to talk about sex without talking about relationships and the beginning and endings and all that, so bear with me please :p
And I'm no expert, so far from it, it's kinda cute. :)

The one thing you're told if you even suggest an interest in writing anything, a novel, blog, short story, is to write what you know. So here goes nothing :p

Hands up everyone out there who the minute they found someone they were even remotely interested in, ran to their computers and 'facebook stalked' them. Every time my friends tell me they're interested in a new guy, the first words out of my mouth are "What's his facebook name?" So what do you do when they're not on facebook? Or twitter. Or Myspace. Or, hell, Google plus?

I never realised how much I relied on the internet to actually connect to people. It's like a less intrusive way of figuring out people, you can see who they talk to, what they talk about, what they like. Even talking to them is easier, you get to kinda slooowwly get to it, first by liking something they posted, then commenting on it, then posting something related, then *gasp* an actual wall post. :) There's even a formula about what you can do, and after how long you can do it. I mean, what did we do before facebook? Oh wait, we talked. I guess in a way, it's a good and bad thing, that we can use technology as kinda a dating platform. I mean, more people are turning towards online dating and finding a partner through social media is not only more popular, but more acceptable.

But, and no offence to the people who do meet others this way, isn't that the kinda chicken way to go? I mean, through the internet, you're kinda protected. You can sit in front of your computer, looking like a complete mess and rethinking everything you say. Same with emails, facebook, even sometimes texts. When I think about the number of times I've rethought and rewrote some of the bullshit crazy things that come up in my head, I realise that the person I'm talking to, who I probably really like if I'm willing to edit my craziness, doesn't really know me. The one time that I ever really felt like I connected with a person, was when I said something bat shit crazy, and he replied with something that could possibly be worse. On twitter, I don't sound like myself. You can't see the ridiculous grin that goes with half the shit I say, or the really annoying way my voice goes higher when I'm teasing people. So you don't really know me. And that means I probably don't really know you either.

Maybe it also takes the fun out of really getting to know a person. Instead of having this preconceived image of a person, based on what they like, you find out what they like in weird and fun ways. You find out they have a peanut allergy at a hospital, or you find out that they have a secret obsession with Kristin Stewart when you go to their rooms and raid their movie collection (*shudder* God Forbid). The things that make memories, well, memorable, is finding out things you never thought you would about people. Finding out that they speak Chinese at a restaurant, or that they know the lyrics to Tupac, or watch anime or can make a seriously good pie, that's stuff that you grow to love about a person. I just can't see how you can grow to love stuff you read from a list. It's just not the same. I think :)

I dunno. Maybe cause I'm in this position, I can see why it's maybe not so bad. It's harder to obsess when you don't see what the person is up to everyday. It's easier to see the person as a puzzle that you have to figure out, rather than some sort of checklist of things that he likes or does, that you sort of have to fit, or check that he fits? I dunno, I make no sense :p But it is more risky. It's more obvious if someone's not interested face to face. It's a lot more painful if someone rejects to meet up with you, as opposed to not replies your inbox.

But that's the thing about love and relationships and all that mushy crap :p. It's supposed to be a risk, right? All in or nothing?

I say all in :)

But like I said. What do I know? Feel free to correct me :p

Tuesday, 4 December 2012

It Takes Two :)

The thing I realised after writing "What's the Big Deal" is that it was a completely biased, ignorant, dumb-dumb post. That was just AN opinion, one person's very biased, slightly pissed off opinion. And that's not what this blog is about. If you google virginity, all you see is stuff about protecting it, and how you're so awesome for keeping it, and oh how cool and good it is that you fought peer pressure and all that, but I don't feel that way. Honestly, it's kinda like there was a war and I didn't know and I killed the bad dude by mistake. And I don't want the label of pure and innocent and do-gooder, not that those aren't awesome labels, I just don't want a label at all. They're no sites to talk about how scared you are 'cause you're literally like the last person in the entire postcode over the age of 18 who's holding out. How you don't know how to tell guys you like that you're still a virgin, how worried you are that they'll think it's a turn off, how petrified you are that people will laugh, and I dunno, call you ugly (I really hope that's not why! :/). It's like there are these two sides, people who have actively decided not to do it, and people who have. What about the rest of us, the one's who, honest to God, just haven't gotten round to it? How do we deal with all the added angst from the one side who insists that we should wait, or the other said who thinks we're odd for having stayed so long? How do we survive with everyone talking about sex, and why you should do it, or why you shouldn't and when you shouldn't and how you shouldn't and discussing birth control and condoms and anal and ass to mouth and mouth to other parts, it's just over-freaking-whelming and scary and hard.
And I know there's at least ONE other person who feels like me (don't worry, won't name you here). And we have nowhere to turn to, but each other. Hence the blog. A place where we, the Virgins-for-only-right-now-until-we-somehow-get-to-it-eventually can come, and not feel judged or applauded, or scared or self-righteous. Where I can honestly ask how the hell I'm supposed to bring it up with a boy, when I'm supposed to bring it up with him, when I'm supposed to bring it up with my friends (during the birth control discussions of course), how to act, where to act, and all the fucking bullshit that comes with being a fucking virgin.

I promise to try my hardest to be impartial, and when I'm not, please by all means, feel free to call me out (Like Kya did the other day, which lead to part two. On a completely unrelated note, Kya? Really? That's what you're going as? Okay then. :p) And for all you Virgins-for-only-right-now-until-we-somehow-get-to-it-eventually, welcome, and I hope you have fun. And you know, learn something. Or get helped. Or something. I dunno, I'll stop writing now :)

Any question, rants or just random shit to say? Comment, pretty pretty please, or inbox me :) Would love to hear from my 2, maybe 3 readers? :p

What's the Big Idea: Part 2

Procastination: Es una puta. Excuse me while I attempt (but most likely fail) to get my life in order. But I promise to post regularly. :) Forgive me?

In the essence of appearing unbiased, I'm willing to look at the other side. The face that the actual act of sex is so intrusive, so invasive, how could it not be a big deal. Well, of course it's a biological process, and all animals do it, but it's different for humans, just like picking a mate is different, or hell, pooping is different. It comes with emotions, with ties, with feelings (don't lie, you know you feel hella relieved when you let one out that you've been holding in all day :p). It's not some random occurring natural event that we can just chalk up to science, it's this wonderful, physical act that bonds you, physically, hormonally (eww, I know) and emotionally to a person.
Depending on the person you do it with, it could be the most amazing, or the most heart wrenching event of your life. It could cause you to change in ways you never foresaw, to grow older, wiser, more mature. It could bond you to this person for the rest of your lives, or one night, or heck, an hour (insert "One Minute Man" joke here). It could set out the way you view women, men, love, relationships, life, for the rest of your days.
That's the reason why Rape is so painful. Because someone is forcing themselves into, into a part you that's so secret, even you can't see it :), into the part that you only let people you have a connection into.
Just like any coming of age ritual, it affects you. Especially the first time. Sure, it's not that big deal. But it still is kinda a big deal.