Neuroscience and behavior

Excuse the title. It was chosen by my office mate, who is fabulous, but not so great at naming blog posts. Although, in a strange way, it seems relevant.

I'm having some minor anxiety related to the new boy. In sexual relationships, I have power, and it feels good. Anyone who says they don't enjoy feeling powerful is either in denial, or a lying bastard. Power is unbelievably attractive, and comes to us from every one of our senses. We know what power looks like, even if we don't consciously realize it. After all, we love a woman in red more than a woman in green. It's the red light district, not the yellow light district. There is something about red that conveys deviance, confidence, secrets, strength, and above all else, power.

Traditionally, I have mastered the art of sexual power. I have confidence in my sexual skills, and I always wear my favorite red pants on a "date". It works every time. I don't have to be interesting, or witty, or smart, or even all that good looking because when you believe you have power, other people believe it too. So in the sexual realm, I dominate. And I love it. It's an egomaniacs wet dream. But in an emotional context, I am utterly useless, which is an egomaniacs worst nightmare. Some people go through their whole lives powerless, and probably don't know the difference. But once you've had that feeling of control, it's very difficult to go back to feeling weak.

It's easy to figure out what people want sexually. They want orgasms. They want to be naughty. They want to do all the things they can't do with "nice" girls. I know this, we all know this. Tragically though, I have no idea what people want emotionally. The reason for this is twofold. First, I have no idea what I want emotionally. For quite awhile I've convinced myself (and others) that I am not an emotional being, but really that's just rubbish. As a result of neglecting this side of myself, I've become very very good at sexual relationships and completely retarded when it comes to emotional relationships. So now he's the one with the power, and I'm the one left chasing after it. And I hate it. It's like a dominant being tied down. It's unnatural.

So that's the current state of affairs for this Huskateer. I feel like I should be demoted from my post for failure to complete my mission.

Oh, and I haven't heard anything regarding results yet, so I guess no news is good news. I'll call them next week just to be sure. And on a positive note, I got 29 free condoms for this weekend, including a kind of haven't tried yet. Beyond 7, ultra thin, ultra durable. Leave it to the Japanese to create such a wonderful combination.

Monogamy is a sexual dysfunction

Apparently it's really difficult for me to have sex with someone I care about. Scratch that. It was difficult for me to have first time sex with someone I really care about. I did, but the following conversation resulted from it.

Me: After Chipotle, we need to go to CVS.
Toby: What do you need at CVS?
Me: Lube.
[mildly awkward pause.]
Boy: I was wondering what answer you were going to give.
Toby: You know you could have lied and said anything else instead...like lotion or deodorant.

So I then purchased KY with the boy standing on one side of me and Toby on the other. The cashier at CVS then felt the need to ask me if we were all together, and then swipe the KY FOUR TIMES. I was absolutely convinced that it was going to become a horribly embarressing price-check moment. It's not at all that I'm embarressed to buy sex related products. Quite the contrary, I handle condoms and lube and dental dams all day. Rather, it's that a fucking scene had to be made by the idiotic and sexually unappealing high school dropouts who work at CVS. As any sexually experienced person knows, lube only makes the sex better. A drop or two inside the condom does wonders, as well as a few on the outside. Not only does it increase pleasure and decrease irritation, but it is also helpful for the prevention of sexually transmitted infections. Lube helps to keep the condom from breaking. However, to the average American, KY means one thing and one thing only: anal sex. This was, of course, the assumption that Russell and my roommates made. Now, I'm not knocking anal sex. I simply don't like the idea of people speculating about my sex life--especially the bums who work at CVS and the college students who hang out there 24 hours a day. For god's sake, I post an online journal displaying more information than most do about their "intimate encounters." Don't speculate about what I do in my bedroom. You can read about it for free, or for a little extra, see something a little more stimulating...just kidding.

All and all, the weekend was outstanding, and the boy was exactly what I needed. Could this be the beginning of a new era?

It has come to my attention that I have hurt quite a few people in the last year as a result of my sexual practices. I really feel very guilty, if you can believe it. I feel guilty for doing the things that have always been done to me. I don't know what to say exactly. Except that I'm sorry. That's about all I can think of to say.

The good ol' days

Remember way back in the day when I still liked casual hook ups? Well, back then I went out with this boy once or twice. He warrented a few posts on here, not because of his skill but because of his lameness. I thought that I had successfully dodged having to sleep with him, but apparently I was wrong. Every day that I've been home for break he has managed to im me or call me or send me ridiculous text messages about how we should get a hotel room. Really, I'm just not in the mood for his shite. Let's examine why because I'm bored at work.

1. He drives a maroon mercedes. Most people would put this in the pro column, but here is why I refuse to. It's not his car. He's one of those lucky bastards whose parents have some money and shower their offspring with extravagent gifts. I have no patience for people like that. He's the kind of kid who wouldn't have given me the time of day in high school. For some inexplicable reason, he now feels that I'm worthy of fucking...though he probably still wouldn't give me the time of day.

2. He's too desperate. If you call me every night, asking me to get a hotel room with you, I know that you have no other life which is extremely unsexy. Even in my casual sex days, I was something of a predator. I need the thrill of the case.

3. I can already tell that he doesn't give good head, if any at all. Even though I only hooked up with him once, the way he carries himself suggests that he's pretty damn selfish, and people like that are never good in bed.

4. He thinks he's the exception. Probably as a result of his upbringing, he thinks that he's above the rules. As we all know, I have dating rules that must be strictly adhered to for safety and sanity reasons. I have made exceptions in the past, and I haven't always regreted them, but he needs to know that he's not special enough to get that kind of treatment.

5. I'm just not attracted to him. I can't believe I'm really saying that. It must be his personality, because frankly, the kid is a little hottie. Granted he's only like 19, but still. I tend to be attracted to a little belly on a boy, but he does have great abs. And he smells good...very good. And he wears nice boxers.

Now, none of this information might seem important to you, but I find it fascinating. It demonstrates a fundamental change in the way that I "date" (see previous vocabulary lesson). It used to be such that if a boy expressed interest, I hooked up with him, probably gave him amazing head, and possibly fucked him. I still would have known that he was selfish and probably bad in bed, but I would have done it anyway.

To make an analogy, when you're in high school, you'll drink whatever liquor you can get. You don't care that it's Beast or Naddy Ice. In fact, you'll drink Tenley brand vodka, which tastes suspiciously like rubbing alcohol. Because that's what there is, and frankly, you're too dumb to know the difference. But as we get older and more experienced, our tastes become more refined. Now, we'd rather spend the extra money for Grey Goose or Yuengling or snazzy Belgian beer. Of course, we still drink as much as we did in high school, if not more, we're just more discriminating about what we drink.

I still get all the benefits of sex without the burning sensation. Wow, that turned out to be a better analogy than I thought.

Our little baby is all growed up!