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Archive for June 2011

Can a real relationship develop from one that began as strictly a sexual, friends-with-benefits one?

“Yes, absolutely,” said one of my friends. “It’s unconventional, but I’ve definitely seen it happen that way. I know a couple that started out as a one night stand and ended up married. Of course, they have a different way of explaining how they met. I just happen to know the truth.”

“No,” said friend number two. “No one who sleeps with someone on a booty-call basis takes the other person seriously. They are two people who need to bang it out—it’s about satisfying needs.”

Another friend explained, “The problem is that often one person becomes emotionally attached at some point, and that’s when it’s time to end it. You can put yourself out there, but that changes the unspoken contract. When expectations change, it often results in no more nooky—NOT a relationship. The end.”

I became particularly annoyed with one of my guy friends one holiday when he explained that he absolutely could never take a girl seriously if she slept with him too soon. Well, that very same night, he slept with one of my gal pals and they are still seeing each other four months later. I introduced them that day, and the straight-up strangers not only slept together that night, but she waited in his bed all day the next day for him to arrive home from work so they could go at it again (Umm…a little much?) Now I see on facebook that she is friends with all of my guy friends in that group, and hangs out with them more than me being a +1 to I-hate-ONS-girls guy. But I also see that even though they have plenty of pictures out together, his relationship status still says “single.” Sooo…

What do you think? Post in the comments section.

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One particular holiday weekend, where many events and parties transpired, I experienced something I’ve never experienced before and am quite ashamed to admit: Sex envy.

Sex envy, quite simply, is when everyone around you is suddenly getting laid and therefore, you feel that you must too. The first night of this holiday weekend, we had a party at my apartment. I was friends with everyone who came over, and everyone who slept over hooked up.

I slept alone. I made the fatal flaw of not ensuring that someone I was interested in making out with (or more) was there. However, it never once crossed my mind that I’d feel a little jealy of everyone else the next day. I did. It was straight-up sex envy. I was not about to be outdone.

The next night, a different group of us went out. We started out with the NJ Devils players; my friend was hooking up with one of them and therefore we decided to meet up with them first. Talking to these hockey players was even worse than talking to a wall (they were painfully shy) so one of my girlfriends and I left Devil’s girl behind and hit another party that this boy I used to hook up with told me about.

Once we got to the new party, instead of attempting to mack it with the tried and true, I met ex-lover’s friend and immediately had a new target. A super cute young guy who just seemed way too easy. He and I talked the whole night while our friends slowly left one by one, and as time went on, I just kept thinking how cute he was and how easy this would be.

We left and did the deed. I didn’t even know his last name yet. I just couldn’t bear to be the only person who didn’t get some that weekend. He was cute, right in front of me, and all I had to do was make a move. It was definitely going to be a yes on his end.

While I’d never done the one-night stand thing before, I am absolutely not ashamed to say that I have. I came, I saw, I conquered. All parties won that weekend: no feelings were hurt and all egos were boosted. So, while sex envy does exist and is not the best feeling, it promotes people to get it on everywhere. And I think everyone, especially in our stressed-out society, can use a little more sex in their lives.

I’m a bit sick of movies that have these romantic, will-stop-at-nothing-to-get-one-certain-girl-even-if-she’s-crazy guys in them. In real life, there are few of these fairy-tale princes. I’m not bashing guys; I’m simply saying that the guys in this generation don’t chase—not that much, anyway. They are more likely to just move on to the next target.

After years of being traumatized by all of the boys on the playground in elementary school—when my grandmother would say, “They chase you because they like you,” and I thought the countless bruises felt anything but “like”—I would love to accuse a man of being a skirt-chaser today. I would love to say “Catch me if you can.” What happened to the games? People are way too relaxed these days when it comes to the initial courtship—if it can even be called courtship. As women are just as likely to make the first move these days, it applies to us too. When did we all become so. . . lazy?

True Italians are not from New Jersey TV shows, or grew up on Long Island or Brooklyn (i.e., have no manners, have those HIDEOUS accents, and look as trashy as they sound). Stereotypes are useful, but they misrepresent real Italians, as in those from Italy.

Let’s go to real Italy: Italian proper. You probably know at least one person who is actually from there. Go you. And if you know, you know, so no need for further reading.

Real Italians are far from their American representations. Real Italians are quite educated, sexually liberated, and speak beautifully accented English. I’ll also use this space to distinguish that there is quite a difference between northern and southern Italy. Sicilians are the equivalent of New Jersians—in the worst sense of the stereotype that is overly played out, and yet does not represent Italy nor New Jersey, just a small portion of their populations. In other words, the people often depicted are the exception, not the rule.

I had an Italian lover a few years back, and I was pleasantly surprised that having only lived six months in New York and working a very intense job, he had explored more here than people who’ve lived in the city their entire lives. I am not talking about the tourist sh**. I don’t write for amateurs.

I’m talking about knowing the underground scene in every really cool thing better than my best native Manhattanite resources.

I wanted to move to Rome this June, and I’m upset that ill-educated, unappreciative, non-Italians get to do it for sh**s and giggles—oh, and get paid!—and they are terrible representations of Italian Americans, if they even are.

I think most ladies have experienced this. I won’t speak on behalf of men, because while they may experience feelings of the exact same nature, I doubt theirs manifest themselves quite this way.

So here it is, one of the fascinating involuntary expressions of the female: The Perma-smile. This is when a gal goes throughout her day and she cannot stop smiling. It’s triggered by a hard-core crush that is going in the right direction, all cards in favor.

The smile is almost impossible to stop—those usual annoyances of the day just float on by, everything is just easy bright breezy with butterflies. Unless someone is dying or there is some other life-changing crisis, it is almost impossible for the gal to snap back into reality.

This can be triggered by the aftermath of just really great sex, or even bad sex with someone we like; we tend to get emotionally attached…

However, the real (genuine) perma-smile that I’m talking about lasts more than two days (my estimate). And that feeling—those feelings—adrenalin, endorphins that will not stop, the “everything is so pretty and I love everything”—when that lasts for a few days, you know you’re in trouble.

In the end, it may not be reciprocated (crushing can be so crushing!), but in the meantime,  it’s still the best high around.

We painted these walls ourselves
tore off that yellowing paper
scraped the glue
base coat
top coat
Sealed our new love

The clock has moved
infinitely around its face since
Then when we were one
Now
chipped paint
cracks in the wall
we neglected to preserve
Our Love
has no recording in history.


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