Lifestyle

About the Vagina: 25 Facts You Probably Don’t Know

For many men (and a depressing amount of women,) the vagina is a mysterious cave of wonders that can provide great treasure (the greatest in fact; life itself!) Unfortunately due to the outdated and historically ignorant beliefs of various groups and facets of society, the mystery comes primarily from embarrassment or even shame. Whereas men were often celebrated or gauged by their virility, the opposite was true for women. The concept of female virginity as a sign of purity only served to further alienate women from their bodies.

To this day, far too many boys are still more interested in what the vagina can do for them, rather than understanding how it works. But let’s change that. Guys, if you know how things work down there, you’ll be better in bed and we all know you want that. Meanwhile, ladies, if you understand how your body works, sex will be better for you. It’s a win for everybody. So, in the spirit of education and better sex (for anyone who has or likes girl parts,) here are 25 things you might be ashamed to ask about vaginas!

1. The clitoris has more nerve endings than any other part of the body.

There are about 8000 nerve ending in the clitoris with the single awesome purpose of arousal and orgasm (which, scientifically speaking is to encourage procreation.) It turns out that number is right around double the nerve endings in the penis.

2. The vagina actually expands for sex.

In their relaxed state, vaginas are typically about three and a half inches deep (which helps explain why there’s often less room in there for a tampon than, say, a penis.) As a woman becomes aroused, a process called “Vaginal Tenting” occurs which causes the interior of the vagina to increase in length and width by about 67%. The message here is that more foreplay = a vagina that’s better prepared for sex, and that’s always a good thing.

3. Vaginas come in different layouts and sizes (all of which are normal.)

The vulva, labia, and even the color of the vagina can vary greatly from one woman to the next. The distance from the clitoris to the vaginal opening is (usually slightly) different on every woman. Further (and often an issue for the self-image of young ladies,) the size of the labia can vary by over an inch. Porn and cosmetic surgery have given a false “ideal” to the appearance of the vagina, that is both destructive, and false.

4. The vagina allows for different types of orgasms.

Depending on how you look at it, the Vagina and all its nerve-filled goodness is capable of 2-4 different types of orgasms: Clitoral, Vagina, Blended, and multiple. Blended and multiple are a result of the first two, but have their own unique traits. Even if you only recognize two, that’s twice as many as a penis gets. With that said, over 70% of women do not orgasm from vaginal stimulation alone, so make sure to cover all the bases until you know which one(s) you’re dealing with!

5. The vagina cleans itself.

As a sophisticated biological system, the vagina maintains a specific balance of good bacteria (though far less than your mouth) and is actually slightly acidic. The pH of the vagina is right around 4.5, putting it on the same level as such wondrous substances as beer and wine (and also tomatoes… but 2 out of 3 isn’t bad.) This, by the way, means that douching or using any non-prescribed “vaginal cleaner” is a really bad idea as it will throw off the balance.

6. The clitoris is actually a lot like a penis.

The clitoris has a glans, foreskin (the clitoral hood,) and even a shaft that hardens when a woman becomes aroused. Though some swelling may be visible in the size of the clitoris, it mostly goes unnoticed because the majority of the clitoris is buried inside the vagina. It also isn’t just a “button” externally. It extends down past the vaginal opening in a wishbone shape, helping increase sensitivity there as well.

7. Kegel exercises really do a lot for your vagina.

You can exercise your vagina, and doing so has a lot of benefits. The strengthening of vaginal muscles improves sexual response for both partners (through better contact.) In addition, when she has an orgasm from said sexual response, the added muscle means it will be longer and more pleasurable. For those interested, the stronger contractions also mean a higher likelihood of female ejaculation. Finally, the stronger the pelvic floor muscles, the easier it is for the vagina to bounce back from childbirth.

8. Multiple. Orgasms.

Multiple orgasms are distinct in that they literally happen one after another (“like a machine gun”) and generally are exclusive to vaginas (sorry guys!) The laboratory record (that’s right, for science) for the number of orgasms in an hour is an insane 134 (over two per minute!!!)

9. The Hyman is absolutely no indication of sexual activity or purity.

The perpetuated myth that a hymen represents untouched female purity is just that: a myth. In fact, some women are born without a hymen to begin with. For those that are born with them, they range in thickness, toughness, and amount of coverage, meaning there’s no way to determine any sexual information from a hymen check.

10. Feeling like you need to pee during sex is pretty normal.

Even if you pee just before sex, it’s normal to feel like you need to during the act. This can be a lot of things, but it’s primarily the result of the urethral sponge swelling. That, combined with stimulation causes nerve cross-talk from the clitourethrovaginal complex (basically it’s misinterpreting the new pleasure delivery) and makes your brain think you need to pee.

11. Not getting “wet” doesn’t always mean you’re not into it.

Probably the closest thing women can experience to erectile dysfunction is when they are totally into a sexy situation and fully consensual, but for some reason, the plumbing just isn’t cooperating. No, your subconscious isn’t (necessarily) trying to tell you anything. It turns out natural lubrication can be affected by a multitude of things from birth control, to breastfeeding, to menopause. Estrogen levels have a lot to do with the female physical sexual response so anything that messes with your estrogen levels can mess with your lubrication.

12. Lube makes the vagina happier.

The good news is, even if your sexual response is good, recent science says that a little bit of lube will do nothing but make it better. Water-based lubricant increased the sexual satisfaction of literally every category from partner sex to solo play, and (no brainer) anal sex. It also cut down on the collateral damage to the vagina from sexual encounters. So if you’re planning to do a lot with your vagina in a short time, best to lube it up.

13. The vagina communicates with you.

The extremely complex environment of the vagina is designed to give regular status updates. (Like Twitter, but more organic.) Changes in the smell, discharge amount, consistency, and off-period blood spotting are all indications of what’s going on in there (and not always a bad thing!) For instance, when a woman is most fertile and ovulating, discharge increases and cervical mucus becomes more transparent and stretchy in consistency.

14. The Vagina is not a straight line.

Contrary to the belief of many, the vagina is not a straight line pointing in the direction of the stomach/heart/head. It actually tilts about 130 degrees (towards a woman’s back) and can change as she gets older.

15. The vagina stretches to over THREE TIMES its normal size for childbirth.

Most people have an idea about this one but it’s definitely worth mentioning. When having a baby, the vaginal opening can stretch to between 9 – 10.5” in diameter to let the new little human out. While childbirth can alter a vagina’s look, the interior size and “tightness” usually has no noticeable difference after recovery (which can take six months to a year or more.)

16. The word “vagina” comes from a Latin term meaning “sword holder”.

Right… well… let’s just remember that many scabbards are the prettiest, most distinct parts of the sword/sheath combination. They also protect the sword from rust and damage. And damn the patriarchy for this one…

17. Vaginas and sharks have something in common.

The vagina secretes a compound known as squalane as a natural lubricant. Since it is lighter than water, it is also naturally found in shark livers and contributes to reducing their density. When harvested from a shark, this compound is often used as a component in moisturizers and cosmetics. Let that sink in for a little while.

18. The vagina can fall out of a woman’s body.

Though extremely rare, the condition is called “Vaginal Prolapse” in which a section of the vagina literally hangs out of the vaginal opening like a sock. Fortunately, it’s not only rare but also not typically fatal and completely reversible.

19. Vaginal “farts” are basically unavoidable.

Also known as “queefs” or “varts”, these are the inevitable result of air being trapped, and subsequently released from the vagina (usually due to sexual activity.) They are generally harmless, clean, carry no odor, and whoever trapped that air in there has absolutely no business complaining.

20. Consistent or multiple sex partners will not make a vagina “looser.”

The myth that is “virgin tightness” is just a myth. If not appropriately aroused viaforeplay, it’s possible a virgin will feel tighter, but that’s only because her body has not finished getting ready for intercourse. Otherwise, a vagina will feel the same the first time as it does the 50^th time. The only case in which a vagina might feel realistically “looser” is during the recovery period after childbirth. Sorry guys, none of you are near that big.

21. Like everything else, the vagina can sag with age.

A sad fact for almost every part of the human body (assuming you’re human…) The ways to combat this are the same as the rest of your body: Avoid smoking, keep your body in shape, and do muscle-specific exercises (in this case, kegels!)

22. Most of the vaginal nerves are located within the first two inches of the opening.

The next time you hear a guy brag about how long his manhood is, let him know that in general, sexual satisfaction comes from girth. Conceivably, a 4-inch penis with a 3-inch girth will give more pleasure than a 10-inch penis with a 2-inch girth.

23. Orgasm is more likely right before or during menstruation.

Just before and during her period, the blood flow to the woman’s pelvic region (specifically sexual organs) is increased, therefore dramatically increasing sensitivity. As long as there are no negative feelings regarding sex while menstruating, orgasm is achieved easier, with more intensity. Sexual activity can also help reduce cramping and shorten the overall duration of menstruation.

24. The Vagina has some serious muscles.

In 2009, a Russian woman set a world record by lifting 30lbs attached to a wooden egg held by her vagina. With that same strength, it’s actually possible to clamp down on a penis so hard that it can’t be removed. This is called “Penis Captivus”, and while rare, is a real (and only sometimes intentional) phenomenon.

25. What you think is the vagina, probably isn’t the vagina.

What most people refer to as the vagina is the entirety of all the female sex organs. But it turns out all of the external components (clitoris, vaginal opening, labia, etc.) are actually what is referred to as the vulva. The vagina is actually the muscular passageway that connects the vulva and the cervix. (That said, correctly specifying for this article would’ve been far too complicated…)

You can’t say this wasn’t at least a little educational, I’m willing to be nobody alreadyknew all 25 (I didn’t before I did the research.) This is a shortened list, as well. The vagina has many more wonders for us all to discover. But in the meantime thanks for reading!

9 Months Later…

No. Nobody is pregnant (which… actually is too bad in some ways.) It’s been a long time since my last post, and a lot has happened. I ended up having to stop my paid writing gig because I frankly couldn’t keep up with the deadlines in addition to my full-time job. Meanwhile, I bought a house, which any of you who are homeowners know is essentially a full-time job of its own… and it came with a number of expenses that I didn’t count on (despite my outlining a budget in advance.) It was a serious financial struggle, but it’s gotten better and I’m slowly digging my way out.

There’s also been a total solar eclipse (which I was not able to make the totality for…) and more recently we were hit by Hurricane Irma. It was a monster storm that I’m certain you saw on the news and it was impressively strong even when it hit Orlando. With that said though, what we got was nothing compared to the coasts and the Caribbean before that. Some in Irma’s path were literally destroyed, but in contrast, the worst experience we had was power loss. That’s not to downplay the heat though, a lack of air conditioning on 90+ degree days (and nights!) will wear on you. By night three (of six) the heat was draining, stifling, and had a major effect on our sleep quality. Combine that with the fact my house gets running water from an electric pump in my well, and you can imagine it was an unpleasant week. It also amounted to a lot of small, unexpected costs, but I have to say the Chinese take-out that was open when literally nothing else was (even Waffle House!) were the real MVPs.

Irma was just a little rainstorm…

Socially… well… I don’t know. I’m not isolated, I have some new friends, and I’m seeing more of people whom I’ve grown close to over many years. But I’ve also lost some people. Not specifically as a result of them outright leaving, but more a matter of my becoming a lower priority in their life. I’ve mentioned before that it frustrates me when somebody speaks the world of you but doesn’t back those words up with action. Eventually, you just have to face the fact that they simply don’t want to admit how little you mean to them now. It’s not a matter of meanness or intention, more a matter of priority. Some people aren’t as good at admitting they are selfish as I am. Regardless, I’m not lonely, and I don’t think I’m going to be anytime soon… even if I still feel like finding “the one” is probably not realistic anymore.

Work and the house have been all-encompassing. I’ve been (kinda) lazy and haven’t really done any sort of dedicated workout since I last posted. That is, until tonight when I decided to see if I could still push out a respectable 5k after not running for a year. (Spoiler alert: I can.) But I need to do a lot better. My friend Leslie has returned from Japan and one of her first executive orders was signing us up for the Spartan Race come February. For those not familiar it’s a 5k (roughly) but it’s 3+ miles of insane obstacles, so I’m going to need a lot more stamina than a 5k, especially if I’m going to help the others on my team. It won’t hurt to tone up a bit either, my laziness hasn’t made me fat, but definitely fluffier than I prefer to be.

I’m going to re-apply myself here. I’ll be house-sitting for my boss over the next two weeks, so I’ll have some time. I’m in a place now where writing makes sense for sorting out my thoughts and sharing. I also have an article I’ve been saving from my paid gig. It was requested, but then decided it was too racy for our audience, so I asked the editors if I could publish it on my own site and was given the rights to it. Check it out, I think you’ll find it pretty enlightening. If all goes as planned I’ll have it posted tomorrow. Until then, welcome back and thanks for reading. Stay tuned…

Stay tuned!

2016 Retrospective and 2017: 希望

Well holy shit. I just read through my 2015 recap and it was all kinds of hopeful. Needless to say, 2016 was another shit year but in totally different ways.

Before I get started allow me to explain my months of absence: I sold out. Yes, in what was one of the positive developments this year, I’m currently a Staff Writer for a website called http://www.List25.com. I’ve been there for about four months now and I meant to let y’all know officially much sooner, but I wanted to get some posts under my belt and then, life got really, really busy, and I haven’t been back. Obviously I am back at the moment, but I can’t promise much consistency here because, frankly, I have a hard enough time keeping up with my post requirement over there. However, I’m not quitting here. I’m just not going to commit to frequent posts for now. That being the case, you should subscribe, so when I do post, you can come look! And meantime go visit me on List25.com and check out my ultra-cool bio on the “about” page ( http://list25.com/about/ .)

Enough shameless pluggery, let’s talk about sucky years. 2015, as mentioned in last year’s post, was a hard, hard year. Uber was fun but I barely got by. By the end I had found my new workplace, and was feeling pretty good. Well, 2016 continued the workplace success,
and then some. Not only am I writing part-time, but my full-time job is paying for accounting classes to further expand and refine my skills. This is a great benefit, and I’m grateful for it. It’s also probably a good thing my social life is more or less nonexistent.

Yeah, for just under half of the year I was something I really, really shouldn’t be for long periods of time: Alone. While you all know I’ve been single for literally a decade (as of this last November,) I have, for most of those years benefitted from either a relatively close-knit friend group, or a somewhat regular “companion”, or both. But as of around July this last year, both got very quiet, and I honestly grew pretty bitter about it.

I’ll vent, briefly, and then move on because this is not meant to be a rant. But I feel like some people use words like “friend”, “always”, and especially “love” far too loosely. I don’t, and I understand that individuals assign different levels of meaning to them. But when somebody promises they’ll always be there, part of me tried to believe a couple years later they still will be. And if they tell me they love me… well, if I’ve ever said that to anyone, they could more or less call on me years later and I would do my best to accommodate. So I guess coming out of 2014-2015, when my life made its first major shift before shifting again in 2106 and finally settling down, I just expected some of those friendships that had been built over years to endure more. When many didn’t, and I had already grown dark because life had worn me down, it just made me more resentful and bitter towards those that made claims they simply weren’t willing to back up.

I get it. People grow, and change and move on to new phases, but that doesn’t mean you forget who your friends were. What they meant to you and what they did for you. You don’t get to just write off years of experiences without reason.

Not totally alone. 🙂

That’s not to say there weren’t those who didn’t have their reasons, myself included. That’s also not to say that some people didn’t step up (or at least try.) I’ve joked in person that I have like… two friends now. But when I think about it, that’s not true. I still have a ton of friends, we’re just distant, and spread out, and belong to different groups. All of that is okay, and if any of you are reading this, I probably think about you, and I would probably, very easily pick up right where we left off. I’ve been busy too, so I haven’t been super proactive in social settings. (Even tonight a friend invited me out to a New Year’s party last minute and I declined. I’m exhausted. But it’s nice to know you’ve got somewhere to go.)

Speaking of, I really do appreciate those people who have hung in there through the years, and who came back on radar, whether randomly or because they knew I needed company. It was because of them, my job going well, and a few new people that have recently popped up, that I’ve been able to make it through the remaining months of the shit-show that’s been 2016 and not move away to a distant mountain in New Zealand (that was a very serious consideration post-election night…)

Speaking of the election. Fucking humans. I KNEW he would be elected. Hell, I knew it before he even officially announced he was running. But I prayed, and begged, and pleaded that just this once I could be wrong about something like that. That people would recognize the absolutely horrible and absurd concepts that are becoming disturbingly normalized and think that no matter HOW much they bought into the carefully-crafted hatred of Hillary, they couldn’t possibly elect an insecure, belligerent, hateful, lying, monster of a man like Trump to lead and represent the United States on the world scene. YOU HAD ONE JOB. And now, a very large shadow looms over the incoming year(s).

He’s had a lot of playtime.

There were, I think, three times this year, when I did my best to stifle the disdain and contempt for humanity that has steadily grown in me. When things felt like they might be okay, and I could try to discard my emotionless, robotic manner in order to have a better attitude about things and maybe have a little hope. Election time was one of those times, and obviously it was swiftly and utterly crushed. There was another time before that, and one since then in which it lasted a day or two at most before I felt it was a lost cause and retreated back to the all too familiar darkness that’s grown comfortable.

But now a new year is upon us and I’m going to try again, and I’m going to try harder. My foundation finally appears to be set, and those who have stuck by are being joined by a few new faces that will undoubtedly multiply. The path for this year can initially go one of two different ways, and the first few days of 2017 will decide which of those paths I will start down. Either is a path of growth and personal development, and more importantly; 希望 (kibō) the Japanese word for hope. With Carrie Fisher among the last of the many icons 2016 took from us, it seems appropriate that this is my sole, general resolution. I’m going to try to be, and remain, hopeful in the face of whatever setbacks and obstacles come at me in 2017.

“When you defend your ideas in public, you then have to make an effort to live accordingly.” – The Manual of The Warrior of the Light. (Paulo Coelho)

Happy New Year Everyone!

A Story Of Sluts

A friend of mine recently messaged me for my opinion on a subject she’s (ironically) contributing to a blog about. She asked me for a male’s opinion on “the difference between a woman who is labeled a slut and a woman who’s comfortable with her sexuality.” She said I she thought I would be a good person to ask, naturally I’m inclined to agree. However, I would be lying if I said that I believe I represent the general male population’s opinion on this matter… which is most typically unfortunate.

With that said, I really don’t like the word “slut”. I don’t use it, and it only ranks a bit lower than the “C-word” used toward women, or the “N-word” used toward African Americans… both of which make me extremely uncomfortable. I have no business using either of those words, and I don’t think males in general have any business calling anyone a “slut” (though, admittedly, I can type that word, whereas the others I really don’t want to.) Men who label women as such are usually HUGE hypocrites (for example my post back in August back about the “Downtown Alpha Male”) and are using the term to belittle women for the very thing they celebrate for themselves. It’s ridiculous and just another example of men historically treating women as possessions. Basically, “Shame on you if you let too many guys get a ‘piece’ of that which is obviously yours.”

About that many I think.

When it comes to sexuality, people get all freaked out about numbers. Specifically: “How many people have you been with?” I literally scared off a girl I was actually interested in dating once because of my sexual history, and my “number” isn’t nearly as high as my reputation might suggest. (Truth be told, I did stop paying attention at some point… so I would have to sit and think about where I’m at now… but I digress…) Regardless there are huge flaws in judgement based on said numbers. First of all, you’re over-generalizing multiple, specific situations with details that are important. Second, you’re making broad assumptions based on very little evidence/fact (even if you ask questions.) And Third, you’ve got no pre-established parameters or reasoning by which to quantify measuring the statistics on which you are basing your judgement.

For instance, what if a specific girl decided she didn’t enjoy vaginal sex? Technically she may have only been with one or two people in the ten or more years she’s been sexually active. But, maybe she’s one of the few women that really enjoys anal sex. Does that count? Depends on who you ask. Further, what if instead of anal sex she really, really enjoys giving blowjobs? She’s had intercourse with two guys, but probably given a hundred times that many blowjobs. Does that count? What if she didn’t swallow? Then does it count? If she gave YOU that blow job, should it add to that number? Or does it not count because you know you’re better/cleaner than anyone else?

What about women? If a girl’s sexuality includes women, and she has been with over a hundred women in all sorts of awesomely kinky ways, but has only been with one guy, is she a “slut”? Or are you just envious of her far supirior ability to woo females? What about group sex? Does that count as one encounter? Or should we count each penetration? If so, which penetrations? If we count all of them a girl could rack up double digits in just a few experiences compared to another girl who has had sex hundreds of times but with only nine guys since she became sexually active. The point is, any “criteria” is flawed to say the least, and depends on the individual and their (very often flawed) beliefs. There is no correct way to quantify who is or isn’t a “slut” because it’s a highly subjective term (which really shouldn’t even exist.)

However, for the sake of answering the question, I suppose I’ll come up with the most obvious differentiation I can based not on the general actions of said women, but whether or not they are using their brains. It’s time for a story of sluts.

Subject A is a junior at the University of Washington. She did her first two years at community college, and is eager to mingle on the university level, but also focused on her future. She’s always been intelligent, level-headed, good in her studies, has a great attitude, and is a finance major. Let’s call her “Monroe” (please note that these examples are based on my personal experiences, but NOT any specific people. I chose that name because I literally don’t know anyone who has it.)

Subject B is a high-dollar, celebrity level escort of roughly the same age as Monroe. She’s always been blessed with good looks, and she comes from an (unfortunately) typical broken family. She did the best she could to get through high school, but was forced to go to work to support herself and her younger siblings whom her parents otherwise neglect. She went to work at a strip club because it was the best money she could find in a tough job market and with no vocational education or schooling. Through her looks and street smarts, a chance meeting introduced and groomed her into high dollar escort work through which she was able to become financially independent while providing for her family. Let’s call her “Chastity“.

So, I ask you, which of these ladies is more likely to be called a slut? Seems obvious that would be Chastity. But let’s continue with our hypotheticals.

Monroe is pretty and has had little trouble making friends in class, but her studies keep her from going out too often. However, she is being courted by various sororities and and is invited to an event known as a “mixer” with an associated frat house. Though she was never really the party type, she’s excited to “live her life” and decides to go with her new friends. At the party, she has a great time, and accepts drinks from a succession of very attractive and charming men in the fraternity. They don’t seem anything like the obnoxious stereotypes she’s heard; these men are intelligent, charming and very nice to her, all while bringing her drinks so she doesn’t even have to leave the dance floor. One thing leads to another, and she finds herself alone in the room of one of these charming young men… David.. she thinks.. Though she’s not been drugged, she’s already drank more than she should have and makes the poor decision to go along with this young man’s advances (he’s very pretty.) But when they finish up (or rather when he does… he put a condom on.. she thinks…right?) he makes a remark about how the night is young, and they should rejoin the party. Thinking they will follow-up later, Monroe agrees as she is hurried out his door.

Chastity:

Meanwhile Chastity is having a good night, there’s a convention in town with a lot of very rich executives looking for company. She’s decked out in a Gucchi silk chiffon gown and her power heels – Christian Louboutin. It’s only midnight and she’s looking for her fourth (and probably final) client of the night. She prefers her regulars – much more comfortable and fun – but scoring four big pays in a night is well worth any initial awkwardness. The last guy was aggressive and she liked that until he tried to shove himself inside of her bareback. Fortunately she knows her business and was able slide out of position while giving a coy purr that said “you’re forgetting something big boy…” he complained but all she had to do was give the serious look and hold it up for him to get the message: “No condom, no more playtime.” That’s one of the first things you learn as a sex professional; not matter how clean and intelligent they seem, every guy is one shitty decision away from fucking up your life permanently. The profession is risky as it is, and Chastity is proud of her many negative testings. She plans to keep it that way. Finally she spots her next potential… time for him to buy her a drink.

So at this point Chastity is up on numbers for the night (we can pretty much assume she’s up on numbers forever…) So that would label her the “slut” of the two, right? I mean, sure Monroe has made an obviously stupid decision, but Chastity has been with three guys and is not done yet. Let’s see how the night plays out.

Monroe:

The world is blurring a bit for Monroe. Drinks keep happening (though it seems like they are
spaced just enough apart to keep her from being sick…) and she’s feeling good. She lost track of that first guy.. Daniel.. (he was so nice!) but now Michael has been dancing with her and has the prettiest eyes. She’s afraid she’s going to hit attention overload… never in her life have this many hot guys been this into her. Michael says he has to tell her something and leads her back to the rooms. He tells her that his little brother in the frat, James (oh! he was cute!) has had his eye on her all night, but is not very confident. He says his plan was to bring her back to the room and introduce them so he would talk to her. But James isn’t here, and Michael tells Monroe that he feels a connection with her… she thinks she feels it too… but that could be the vodka. There’s been a lot of vodka… Now Michael is kissing her.. his hands are warm as they make their way down her back.. they feel good but she’s still blurry… “maybe this isn’t a good idea..” she thinks.. but fuck it, it’s not like this is normal for her, let’s have some fun. Maybe there’s a connection there…

Chastity:

This guy was tough. The prostitute stigma was strong with him and he’d really liked her. Sorry champ, no freebies for being cute. He kept her for a while, she accepted more than one drink (one is her typical rule before business), but she knew she was still totally in control. She started to walk away and he’d stopped her, disgruntled, and asked what her time would cost. He said he wasn’t concerned about the sex, but that’s only because he didn’t know what he was in for. He agreed to compensate for time – the same price – and dinner was excellent. He asked if he could call her another night (sorry champ, I said no freebies) and that maybe he could support her in exchange for her allowing him to court her legitimately. She told him maybe, but she knew it was a no. He wasn’t the first rich guy to offer this, they all think they are different… better than the other guys. The truth was she actually preferred the guys who were straight up for the sex… much neater and less work to get around their emotional hangups. Her magic charmed them for whatever they were looking for, it was her job to steer them to what she was willing to give. Nobody was going to own her. If someday she decided she wanted something more, she would bring it up on her terms. But she doubted it would be a client, most of them already had somebody waiting at home anyway. Chastity was a fantasy, and she was a damn good one, but when business was done she would always say goodbye. By the end of the night he had champagne delivered to his hotel room. “Nothing is going to happen” he said. Bullshit. She could see he was already trying to hide a raging boner. She unzipped his pants… it took her fourty-five seconds to finish him the first time.

So now the score is two to four in favor of Chastity. But who is the slut? The naive college girl making multiple poor decisions? Or the call girl who is totally in control? They are both having sex, so how do we judge them? Let’s wrap this up.

Monroe:

Naked. They are just laying there, but at least he didn’t push her back out to the party again. Granted the party is dying down. It’s… what? 3 AM now? Where did her friends go anyway? It’s okay though, despite a whirlwind of a night, Monroe isn’t upset or afraid. Nobody has been mean to her and sure, they’ve been forward, but she wasn’t forced at all. They are really hot guys and she enjoyed herself both times. Both times.. wow.. that wasn’t something she was expecting. She turned and felt the wet spot on the bed near her groin.. there’s no way that was all her. “You used a condom… right?” she asked. “Yeah.. yeah I did.” he paused “But you know, sometimes they break or something.. so maybe you should get the morning after pill just in case.” The first twinge of frustration hit Monroe. She wasn’t stupid, this dude lied to her. But before she could say anything, he sat up and let out a deep sigh. “Shit… I’ve been stupid…” At least he admitted it… but he continued “This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was going to hook you up with my little bro and I got greedy.” He seemed genuinely remorseful and for a moment Monroe actually started to feel bad. “I’ll talk to him.” she said before she realized what she was saying. “Maybe he and I can hang out, bring him out of his shell a little.” Sure. What’s the harm in that? “We can keep this between you and I.” she assured him. Thier connection was faded now, and she didn’t think she was going to see Michael like this again. “Alright cool. You know, you’re a pretty cool girl. I mean, you’re hot, but you’re also cool.” He handed her the drink she’d carried in with her “Finish that up and I’ll go grab us some more.” It was three-quarters full. “No no, no more for me.” she said. It was still hitting her and any more would make the world spin out of control. “Alright.” he said “Just finish that and I’ll get you some water.” Well fuck it, it’s the last one anyway. She emptied the cup and laid back down while Michael life for more drinks. For a little while the world went black.

“Holy shit she’s naked…” a voice whispered. Shocked to consciousness Monroe scrambled to cover herself. She looked up to see the shy (but cute!) one… what was his name.. James peering down at her with Michael behind him. “Wait.. did you? Did you already fuck her??” James asked. “No no bro, we were just talking and got into it a little… I just warmed her up man! Look at her! She’s in your bed, ready.” Michael said. His bed. Shit. His room? Thier room. It was harder to think straight after her nap. “Look, I’m sorry…” she started to say… she had no intention of hooking up with James tonight, no matter how cute he was. She started grabbing her clothes and then she heard James say “I can’t do this… she’s not here for me. She doesn’t even like me! Why did you bring me up here? She doesn’t want me, she wants you. I’ll go find somewhere else to crash.” Shit.. she’d let herself go with Michael on this poor guy’s bed and now she was going to ruin his confidence. Michael was looking at her now. He was pleading with his eyes and motioning at her. Fuck. “Hey.. uh.. James!” she said. She wished she wasn’t so fuzzy… damn you vodka. She sat up on his bed and motioned next to her. “Come here, let’s just talk for a little while.” “Are you going to put your clothes on?” he asked. What a gentleman! “Do you want me to?” she asked playfully (she was already naked on his bed after all…) “N-No.” he replied. “You look hot like that.” Well fuck it. She was already here, might as well be naked. But she was absolutely not sleeping with James tonight. No way. Michael left with a smile on his face and James sat and talked to Monroe for a while. She got sleepy and they agreed to lay down and “cuddle”. She was still naked, and before he laid down he was too. It wasn’t long before she felt him hard behind her. He started kissing her neck and in her sleepy haze it tingled a bit. He had been sweet to her and they had talked for nearly half an hour before they laid down… she couldn’t bring herself to reject him now and hurt his feelings. So when his hand made it’s way between her legs, she allowed it… she was still very wet, though some of that might not be from her. Hormones took over and she tried to say something about a condom before he could push his way inside her. He reached over and grabbed at the nightstand drawer. Then he was behind her again, and she felt him. Did he put it on? It seemed too quick but everything was a blur. She told him to be gentle, he was and she enjoyed herself despite a bit of soreness.

Morning came with a headache and more soreness. James was gone. The room was empty. Monroe couldn’t believe she’d had such a night. It was a little exhilarating, but also way out of control. That wasn’t happening again. As she made her way down the hallway she passed by some of the brother’s rooms. She vaguely remembered the faces, but all she got was a few amused smiles. She looked like hell and had to get back to clean up before class. After class she went to get the morning after pill. She felt gross about it, but she knew it was the smart thing to do. Days passed and nobody called, she didn’t see any of those guys again for a while. She thought she saw Michael once, but when she went after him he had vanished. Probably better, what was she going to say? “So, I fucked one of your frat brothers the other night, then I fucked your little after I fucked you. Good times right?” It was tremendously embarrassing and part of her hoped she never saw them again.

Unfortunately, they haunted her anyway. First in the burning sensation when she peed three days later, and then with discharge and something worse than cramps. Her doctor told her she a combination of a UTI and Gonorrhea. She was lucky it wasn’t herpes or HIV. Those assholes!! But it didn’t stop there, she finally ran into her new friends from the sorority that had been courting her. They hadn’t contacted her since, but she approached them and was met with awkward looks. They knew. In fact, they told her “everybody” knew. She was the slut that banged three frat boys in one night. Those guys were high-fiving and telling everyone that came to their house how they passed her from brother to brother. The girls told her they couldn’t have her in their sorority, it wouldn’t look good to have such an openly slutty girl associated with them. Monroe was understandably livid at the boys, but she
was more upset with herself. She was depressed for a while and kept to herself and her studies. Eventually though, she started to feel normal again. Fuck what those people thought. She didn’t want anything to do with greek life anyway.

I would like to say that was the end with a lesson learned, for some people it is… but months later she was invited to another party at a different house. A friend of hers in statistics that was very smart and very handsome invited her along. Some more alcohol, and some very pretty boys happened. They had heard about her from some friends of theirs in another frat house. But that’s another story.

Chastity:

He had asked her to stay the night. She usually didn’t but he offered extra. Money talks. He wouldn’t try to fuck her again, she’d worn him out and she knew it. Sometimes it was nice to not rush off, and the sheets at this hotel were to die for. She woke up to an empty bed and an elaborate gourmet breakfast. He’d left his number on a card on the tray. Very cute. But she knew the game. He wanted her because he couldn’t have her. Prostitutes are looked down at because the perception is that anyone can have them. But a high-class escort knows how to turn that around. They got what she was willing to give, on her terms, and nothing more. No matter how they tried. She sometimes had referrals or friends of previous clients who would tell her that somebody had fallen in love with her or that they would treat her like a queen forever. But Chastity was her own queen, and she liked it that way. She gazed out the marble atrium with it’s floor to ceiling windows on the 72nd floor as she ate breakfast and smiled. Not a bad life.

When she had more than enough money to do so, Chastity enrolled in college. She required no loans and saw some of her regulars as time allowed for spending money. She avoided frat parties and that sort of life because she had zero patience for the ridiculous attempts those young boys made to get in her pants. She tried it once, and all they did was attempt to feed her alcohol and get her alone. One guy even tried to guilt-trip her into sleeping with his “little bro” who was shy with women. Please. One look at the shy boy and she knew that he knew exactly what he was after. He was no stranger. How many stupid girls had fallen for that? After that she kept to her studies and went downtown when she wanted to have fun. Her company was classy and on her terms, just as she liked it.

Chastity graduated with a Masters in Business Management and a minor in Accounting. She went on to become a highly sought after business consultant and developed a reputation for being a no-nonsense problem solver for many fortune five-hundred companies. She eventually hired an assistant, a cute college dropout who desperately needed a job and had a background in finance to help her manage her accounts. She was very bright, and had a pretty good attitude, but you could tell she’d been through some things… she was a little rough around the edges. Chastity hoped she could help her rise above it as she had not so long ago. But that’s another story.

So what’s the point of these long, drawn out stories? Well, for one thing, apparently I like to write semi-fiction. But the other thing is that either of these girls fit classic examples of “sluts”. They are both rather extreme cases, but it brings us back to the question my friend asked me: What is “the difference between a woman who is labeled a slut and a woman who’s comfortable with her sexuality.” The actual answer is: not a damn thing. (Because it depends on the subjective veiwpoint of the person labeling them.) But again, since we’re making an attempt to differentiate anyway, the difference is based on the choices that are made, the process, and the results.

A woman like Chastity can sleep with literally hundreds of men, in control and smart about every encounter. Meanwhile a woman like Monroe can sleep with three in one night, out of control and making bad choices. If somebody put a gun to my head and said “label one a slut or you die”, I would have to go with Monroe. She made poor decisions, and allowed people who’s sole purpose was to have their with her do so without asserting herself. That said I would not fault her, or anyone, personally as I know that some frat houses are a well oiled machines (as I tried to illustrate) designed to take advantage of naive women. But the fact remains that I have personally watched a situation like this happen in a far less understandable way than Monroe’s, with a girl who was not nearly as naive, and that sort of blatant bad decision making and irresponsibility qualifies somebody as “sluttier” in my mind than a woman who has intelligently and cleanly slept with many men.

In closing I want to reiterate what I said in the first place though. The word “slut” is a ridiculous double-standard. The question put to me was specifically in regards to women, so I focused on that angle, but the majority of the time, that word is simply a tool used by men (like those frat guys) to shame women that they previously had no qualms about trying to get with. It’s just another representation of the still-present archaic societal misogyny that would be better off killed with fire and forgotten forever.

High and Cold (brew): A Love Story

Anyone who says they cannot be bribed simply doesn’t understand what their price is. Everyone has something important to them, and therefore would be willing to give up that which is less important in order to obtain the item of utmost importance. I suppose perhaps a person’s integrity might be the most important thing, therefore rendering them physically unbribable, but that would make me question their lack of transcendently important things such as: family, children, coffee, and (of course) love. Point being everyone has a price.

So with all that said, this post has nothing to do with any sort of bribery, (as much as it may sound like it at certain points.)

I discovered cold brew coffee in my hometown of Seattle. Tully’s coffee is more prevalent up there than it is in Florida (where I reside now) and they offer it mixed with some kind of “Madagascar Vanilla” that makes for a really tasty combo. I liked it better than my typical iced coffee at the time, but didn’t realize exactly how special it was. Maybe because of the vanilla, maybe because I wasn’t paying attention. Probably a little of both.

Cold Brew – Looks like science!

For those not yet introduced to cold brew, it’s essentially what it sounds like. It’s coffee, but it’s never introduced to heat. So in essence, the ground coffee beans are steeped in water so that it can absorb the flavor and caffeine. The upside to this is a FAR less acidic and smoother cold coffee. The downside is that in this case heat is replaced with time. So making your own “instant” cold brew is impossible (though it IS easy to buy it instantly… we’ll get to that in a few.) A typical batch of cold brew takes around 20-24 hours to brew, but it’s well worth it. Added benefit to those of us who are caffeine junkies, is that the longer you steep the cold brew, the stronger the caffeine content (to the point where even the adventurous addicts find themselves cutting it with water or some kind of milk.)

Even a couple of years ago, cold brew was nowhere to be found in Florida (at least, not that I and the general population here was aware of.) I figured it was a Northwest/Seattle thing since coffee is a cultural obsession there. But then I heard that Starbucks was test-marketing cold brew in it’s stores and I became very, very excited. Of all places, surely Florida, the only state that competes with Hell for total heat and humidity was deserving of this cold brew! Naturally, I was wrong. Of all places, primarily the northern territories (including New York, Boston, and Seattle) were the test markets. Why? Who knows? Population maybe? Regardless a friend of mine working for Starbucks told me there was no sign we would see it in Florida anytime soon, and every other barista I asked agreed or didn’t even know what cold brew was. So my enthusiasm was curbed, but I kept asking from time to time.

Finally, I was in Miami for a job interview last year and I randomly decided to ask the barista in Starbucks about cold brew… the answer was pure hope: “Oh yeah, we’ve already got some of the materials in, we’re just waiting for the next shipment. Probably have it next week.” Wait.. WHAT? I asked again and was assured it was true. Cold Brew had finally made it to Florida.

Starbucks Trenta Cold Brew: Sleep is not an option.

What followed was months of extreme caffeine and discovery. I learned that I didn’t need
to mix anything with cold brew and it was far more potent than an equal amount of iced coffee. Then another friend who manages Starbucks clued me in on the potency of cold brew. It was so strong that Starbucks HQ gave them strict orders to cut it in half with water. So what I had been drinking and buzzing off of was only half strength! As a regular I eventually convinced the folks at my Starbucks to serve me full strength for my overnight Uber runs. The taste obviously took some getting used to (it is VERY potent stuff) but it kept me buzzing all the way through an overnight Uber run with some to spare for the next night. It was my go-to for many months until I returned to fulltime work and found my caffeine needs reduced.

Regular coffee has been so easy to come by now that I had only sought regular, cut cold brew on days I needed that extra pick me up. That was, until, I found High Brew brand cold brewed coffee. I randomly saw High Brew on sale at Target one day when I was searching for a companion to my lunch sandwich. It was on sale, and I was intrigued by the idea of canned, single-serve cold brew, so I thought I would give it a try. As is typical of me, I snapped a picture of this experience, and a member of the Highbrew marketing team commented on my photo. My one lament was that the Mocha flavor I tried had dairy milk, and I prefer my coffee either black, or with an alternative milk such as coconut or almond milk. Fortunately they responded that they did, in fact, have a “Black and Bold” version and would happily send me a sample if I dropped them a line via e-mail. Of course I jumped on the opportunity.

Social marketing at it’s best!

Weeks later my “sample” arrived, and let me tell you, the folks at Highbrew know their social marketing. They sent me several cans of the “Black and Bold” version to try, along with several more certificates good for a free can, along with a personalized note from the girl who commented on my instagram (Thank You April!) Also, High Brew gets a ton of points for originating in Austin, TX (the coolest city in Texas and one of the coolest in the country.)

So naturally I did three things with my samples: 1. I searched for places I could use my free coupons (target doesn’t carry the black and bold I like!) 2. I tried the other flavors (all are good, but the milk kills it for me.) and 3. I did a taste test between a can of Highbrew black and bold and fresh Starbucks cold brew with a comparable amount of sweetener (Three pumps of classic, to be fair.) Here’s how it went:

Taste: High Brew

At first High Brew seems almost a little watered down, but that’s a part of it’s consistent drinkability and flavor. Starbucks suffers from an inconsistency depending on the brew, and often has a funky sort of aftertaste (as this one did.) Lately I’ve been ordering my Starbucks with coconut milk, which would give them a boost, but to keep it fair I’m comparing the same style. High Brew would benefit from a dairy alternative flavor I think.

Smoothness: High Brew

As I mentioned above, High brew is SO easy to drink. It’s best chilled, but it doesn’t have to be. On ice as served, Starbucks is sometimes pretty close, but it tends to have more bite along with an occasional aftertaste.

Caffeine Content: Starbucks

In roughly 6 oz of Starbucks I feel more energetic than I do from the 8 oz can of High Brew. There’s a good possibility that Starbucks is steeped longer resulting in both the stronger taste and higher caffeine content. It certainly gets you through the day on it’s own while it (happily) takes at least two High Brew to get me through a long day (when I need this sort of intake.)

Price: Starbucks

High Brew ranges from $2.00 – $2.99 / can. (8 oz) A similar amount of Starbucks will run you about $1.62. (based on $3.25 for a 16 oz Grande) The $2.00 price point I found for High Brew is the four-pack from my local Fresh Market where it’s been on special. But even with that close race, you get more caffeine for your money via Starbucks.

Convenience: Tie

SO. MUCH. COFFEE.

Starbucks is everywhere, and High Brew is mostly in Whole Foods and similar stores.
(Target appears to be phasing some of it out, and doesn’t have Black and Bold.) However, if you can find a local distributor on their website like I did, you can get and STORE the cold brew in your fridge for first thing in the morning, backpacking, etc. So more portable and convenient form factor, which is why lately it’s been my go-to for the office. (It just so happens my boss sends me to shop for him at the Fresh Market that sells these.)

(And… After this review.. having drank both… I can see sound.)

What’s awesome about all this is that cold brew is catching on to the point that Starbucks and High Brew are only two of many options showing up on the market (including a tasty one made with almond milk!) But even more awesome was the personalized effort by High Brew to demonstrate to a potential customer and share their brand. I can easily say I’m sold as I buy a minimum of two four-packs a week and show no signs of slowing down.

If you’re an iced coffee drinker, I strongly recommend you try cold brew. And if you haven’t checked out High Brew, give it a shot. Besides the Black and Bold that I prefer, they also offer Vanilla, Mocha, Espresso and Caramel flavors with milk that are quite good. If you decide to try it out, drop me a line and let me know what you think!

I’m shameless, I know.

The Fading Magic Of Love

Admittedly the following thoughts are my own (somewhat emo) individual observations and feelings, so take them with a grain of salt, this has not be researched by any means. In fact, hopefully I’m very off-base overall… but it occurs to me that a great deal of what traditionally considered “romantic” or proactive in terms of somebody pursuing another person romantically is now considered “creepy”, “stalker-ish”, or “harassment”. (Which, in many cases it actually is, I’m in no way disputing that, and nobody should be harassed regardless.)

Thus is the plight of modern romance. Unless the stars align and you cross paths and are introduced organically through social situations, folks are more or less forced to use social media style apps like Tinder or various dating sites to create a pre-existing context to meeting a stranger.

Ahh… romance (though points for the HP reference.)

There is no more “love at first sight” for a stranger or acquaintance because nine times out of ten (especially, but not always, if it’s a man pursuing a woman) randomly approaching or attempting to talk to / get to know somebody that you have no (or very limited) preexisting context with will be met with suspicion, scorn and a label of one of the above terms.

Further, even if met with courtesy, attempting to pursue the matter usually breeds discomfort and is quickly reclassified into one of the above categories.

But that said, it’s true that such things (when unwanted, which initially, before people get to know each other, they almost always will be…) ARE in fact harassment and a lot of the tactics that folks in the “old days” used to employ to get a potential partner’s attention ARE in fact a form of stalking. And it’s absolutely correct that nobody should have to put up with harassment or stalking on any level, even with good intentions.

Stalker!

So I wonder then what the fix is? What if everyone you come across organically isn’t the right one for you? What if you come across a relative stranger and feel the magical pull of what was once love at first sight, but there’s no real way to pursue it? What if all the “dating” apps yield a few great friends but then mostly contribute to losing your faith in humanity?

More and more people are staying single, and that’s okay because we need to be our own strong, independent people… but I feel like romance and whatever magic that love once held is becoming more and more scarce because the rules have changed and people either don’t want to play the game any more, or don’t really know how to operate in the new rule set. Or maybe the new rule set just doesn’t lend itself well to spark of a real, long-term love.

It’s a social evolution in that people’s rights are being respected on equal levels (ideally anyway), but in doing away with the archaic misogyny and religion – based social constructs, we may have also discarded some of the attached old-school charm and courtship that led to a small percentage (among many failed…) of happy, long-term, adorable couples/families. These days I see families and couples, but a large majority of them have settled, I don’t see the love. Some admit it, others don’t and in some cases my observation is wrong… but in others it has been proven to me, through action, confession or simply watching it fall apart.

I suppose it’s too early to tell, and I can only speak for my immediate bubble, but I see even less potential for those true, long-term connections now than I did with the old ways. We reduced the suffering of millions, and there’s no question that it’s worth it, but I think that the increasing rarity of classic, old-school style love actually makes me sad. It’s as easy as it has ever been to find somebody to hook-up with, but the problem is some part of me always wanted the idealized classic, stable, happy family with the “picket fence” or some version of it and I’m beginning to think that for somebody like me in a world like this, I can’t build it. I can build me, but everything else is like playing the social lottery, and the odds are very much not in my favor.

(Note: This wasn’t supposed to be a blog post, it started out as a facebook post… I guess I just had a lot to say.)

Now Begins 2016

As I write this it is only a moment after midnight, bringing the first day of 2016 to a close. I recognize that I’ve been writing more personal stuff lately and less… “lifestyle” articles but the truth is that I write what I’m feeling or thinking, and I suppose lately (especially around the holidays) it’s been more along the lines of a journal than a blog. You get to deal with it.

So, with that said, happy new year! For me 2015 was more of a struggle than I have had in a long time. Actually, that may not be completely true, but it was a very different kind of struggle, one that (with the exception of a few positive introductions) basically defined the year as shit. Yes, 2015 was a shit year with shit-filling coated in shit. It started out with some promise and was garbage within three months. My stress level went through the roof, my income plummeted, my finances when to hell, and my self-confidence took a major hit (okay, fine.. maybe it’s a good thing to get my ego in check from time to time.)

See? Relaxed.

Fortunately in the last couple of months of the year, my struggles and efforts bore fruit in the form of new and different opportunities, and by mid-December I was already beginning my recovery to start 2016 strong.

So here I sit on the first day. My stress level is minimal (in fact, sometimes I feel too relaxed.) My work situation has me situated in a literal paradise, and my boss might be the only person on earth who has experienced a greater variety of life than I have (relatively speaking and possibly slightly exaggerated in regards to my life experience.) Perhaps most importantly, he is very patient and laid back… which I’m honestly still getting used to after my previous bosses. My income is not exceptional, but slightly better than it was at the height of my financial stability around two years ago (I’ve made more since then, but the situation was much more difficult essentially negating the addition income.) All in all, the foundation is being reset after it was nearly destroyed in 2015. It’s a mix of the old and the new (and unfortunately, it seems, not without a few social casualties…) but it feels like it’s strong and fully capable of supporting the next chapter the is 2016.

Note: I passed out while writing this, so the following is a continuation authored the next day (told you I was relaxed.)

So what is the next chapter. Or rather, what is my intention? We all know that we picture one thing, and even if we reach that goal it will look different than we pictured and take us on a path we couldn’t have imagined, so scrutinizing that is useless. Rather, I guess the questions are; What are your intentions for the year? What will you focus on?

The elephant understands.

First and foremost: Balance. Always balance. If there’s anything that has been obvious to me time and time again, it’s that taking anything to an extreme, even if it’s a seemingly good thing, almost always ends badly. Obviously this is a very general philosophy that can be broken down to very specific situations, but in general I believe the more you put effort into keeping yourself and your life balanced, that happier and better adjusted you will be. I could write and entire post on this alone (and have if you go way back to the “Philosophy of Moderation” posts.) Short term, or extreme situations with defined deadlines are important and potentially very productive, but as a general life philosophy I suggest you strive for balance. It’s an easy google search to find many testimonials from people who took things to extremes and regretted it later on some level.

So with that overtone in mind, I want to get back to personal development. Much of 2015 was dedicated to the trap of “getting by” that I know a lot of people are still in. But since it appears I’ll have a little breathing room, I want to get back to hobbies that I enjoy and are productive (no, I’m not talking about Final Fantasy XIV… but that will happen too… in moderation.)

First, I want to write more and more consistently. The surprising number of you that have hung in there when I got down to one post a month on average during parts of the year should find that you see a lot more from me. Initially my goal is one a week, we’ll see where I go from there. Along the same lines I’m considering a second blog / website dedicated to fictional writing. The “Kaska-Ta” entries are a bit of an outlet using a metaphorical world to discuss actual dilemmas and thought processes, but I’ve got a lot of other stuff that is quite a ways farther out there running around in my head. So I’ll keep you posted on that development. I most certainly won’t be starting that until I feel confident I’m giving you enough attention here.

This is a raw shot I took yesterday. It might end up being my favorite of the set. Feel special.

Second, I’ve got access to semi-professional camera now (Canon 70D, not the 6D that is my goal, but I like it a lot better than I thought I would.) As such I will be spending more time on my photography. This one is a little addictive, so I have to watch my time spent, but it’s something I really enjoy. I’ll probably have a dedicated site for my “professional” photos (no, I’m not putting them in Instagram.. thats for my iPhone.) and while I don’t have any intention of collecting money for my services anytime soon, I’ll be trying a lot of things creatively, entering photography contests, and seeing what I can do to get my name out a bit as a legit taker of pretty pictures. Since I showed off the camera in social media, a few people have pinged me about potential projects that I’m already excited about.

Third, and while this is nothing new it remains important: I need to get active again. The nocturnal, all-encompassing Uber life and the stress that came from the greatly reduced income destroyed my routine and left me with little motivation to try and get it back together. But if anything is essential to maintaining mental balance, it’s making sure your physical body is on the level with your mind. The running especially is a sort of meditation for me, and one I will not be neglecting much longer. As expensive as they are, I will probably try to get back into the Disney races as they are both magical and give me goals to train for. Hopefully I can swing the Marathon this year… and survive it. I’m a long way away from where I was when I successfully ran that a couple years ago.

The intentions above come with the obvious condition that I don’t neglect

Work it.

other aspects of my life to do so. Socially I’ve been recluse and I intend to improve that now that I have the resources to indeed be social. And arguably more importantly (since it is a large part of my foundation) I need to be sure my focus on work is proactive and diligent. As I said my boss is very laid back, but that needs to be an excuse to stay sharp and exceed expectations so that I have to basis to continue to improve said foundation.

There are also more tangible carry-over goals from last year:

1. Japan. I made the promise last year and while she’s been very gracious about my situation causing that to not happen, I hate not keeping my promises. Besides, I need to get back over there, it’s been way too long.

2. Canon 6D (or possibly a 1Dx should they come up with the rumored upgrade.) The camera I have access to now will work great in the meantime, but it’s not full-frame, and it’s not mine. Two things I need to remedy if I really want to be considered “pro”.

3. Cruise (this is a strong optional.) It’s been three years now (I think…) since I was last on a cruise ship. It’s been too long. I don’t know what it is about being on these marvels of engineering out on the open sea, but it’s fantastic and I need to get out there again.

So, obviously, it’s going to be a busy year. But busy is good when it’s the kinds of things you’re excited to do. Last year I had a few moments where I lost hope and was very close to rock-bottom again, but thanks to my friends reminding me what was important, a lot of hours spent in my car, and a little bit of help here and there from the universe, this year has a great deal of potential that I’m determined to make sure isn’t wasted.

Happy New Year!

You Don’t Have To “Follow Your Dreams”

“What do you want to do?” “What do you want to be?” “What’s your passion?” “What do you want to be when you grow up?” “What do you dream of being?”

Rich. And Happy. With Kids.

Oh, you want to know how? Well fuck off, I don’t know. Except I do, and that is: whatever I can do that will get me there while keeping me happy, letting me live my life, and allowing me to keep my dignity intact/stay true to myself.

I suppose that’s awfully specific for somebody that doesn’t know, but as a thirty-six year old single male that achieved “full yuppie”, and then spent months unemployed until just recently, I’ve had a lot of experience and a fair amount of time to mull this over. What I figured out is that all those questions above seem encouraging and productive, but they can, in fact, be exactly the opposite. They can demotivate and even create insecurity where there doesn’t need to be any.

Obviously they had different priorities…

The thing is, some people have dreams when they are little, but as we grow, we change and (hopefully) so do our priorities. When we’re kids, a lot of us really hate taking naps. Sleep is so boring! But years later, as an adult, nap time is a close second (and let’s face it, depending on the person, it’s possibly not second) to the horizontal mambo. We grow, we learn, priorities change, and so does what we dream of.

When I was a young boy, I wanted to be a fighter pilot so badly that I studied different aircraft, their capabilities, their combat roles, and even the engines that powered them and who made them. I thought the SR-71 Blackbird was the coolest thing in the world. I grew up, took the ASVAB, aced it, and made the Marines love me (yes, I know I should’ve talked to the Air Force first, but that Staff Sergeant talked a good game.) They told me I could take my pick of assignments between the AV-8B Harrier II (the jet that can take off vertically and hover) or the F-18 Hornet (The fastest and most maneuverable mainstream fighter the US produced at the time.) I was sold on the F-18 and made a soft commitment to enlist I trained with Staff Sergeant Johnson to prepare for boot camp while learning more and more about the program. It would entail military “basic” school, the Naval Academy, and then Flight School specializing (in my case) in fixed-wing aviation. The long and the short of this was a minimum of a fourteen year commitment once I signed on the dotted line. And when that day came, my eighteen-year-old self thought about my friends, my girlfriend, and the person I thought I would become, and I walked away (Sorry Staff Sergeant Johnson.) Once I got realistic about my childhood dream, I didn’t want it any more, and that as okay.

Most dreams seem to involve mountains and sunsets…

But especially in recent years, society has moved to this obsession with goals/dreams. People who don’t have a specific one are in danger of being labeled as unfocused, distracted, lacking direction, drifters, or any number of relatively negative terms. This, in turn, can make people who don’t really have a specific dream feel insecure about the lack of that dream. They can begin to think there might be something wrong with them and feel like they need to invent a “passion” to define themselves. This can have the opposite effect, and lead to an abundance of wasted time pretending to care about something that is ultimately unfulfilling. Such a situation is much more common that we might think and can easily lead to a number of psychological issues. Ironically, inventing your passion is a very effective way of stifling a real passion you may not know you have yet.

For instance, I remember looking at characters in movies that weren’t the good or bad guy, but were the “right-hand man” and thinking “That would be neat… I could totally be THAT guy rather than the main good/bad guy.” It wasn’t a dream, it was just a respect for that sort of person that I identified with passively. A couple of decades later that’s the majority of my recent professional experience. Even better is that I (generally) like it and have made as much, or more than most of the people I know who are “following their passions”. I never thought to myself “Someday I’m going to be this awesome Executive Assistant!” but by being open to it and accepting the natural evolution of my career in that direction, I realized that I was, in fact, actualizing something I had passively envisioned more than a few times.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not hating on people who have and follow their dreams. I have a ton of respect for them. Many of my very close friends have pursued their dreams and passions and are reaping the rewards of their dedication over the years. They worked hard, put in their time, (most) suffered to some degree, and are rewarded by the option of doing what they always wanted to do. But that’s not everyone, and more importantly it doesn’t have to be everyone. We have to dispel the idea that dreams = life success. They can most certainly create motivation to succeed, but they are not a requirement. There are a number of other ways to motivate yourself.

And that’s OKAY!

Achievement and/or success often breeds motivation, and sometimes it takes a whole lot of trying things and failing to find it. Further, you may very well find that what you succeed at is something you never even considered before. That’s where business roles that I call “tool” types come from. They aren’t what you typically think of when you dream of what you want to become. Therefore they often aren’t “visionaries” or well-known business leaders. But instead of having their own dream, they enable/assist the dreamers in order to grow and take their visions to whole new levels.

Maybe you never dreamed of being an accountant, but you find you’re naturally good at it, and it rewards you well leading to job satisfaction and general financial success. That process can make people pretty happy. The same can be said for what I do as an Executive Assistant. I get to live vicariously through extremely successful CEOs, Inventors, Celebrities and other notable dreamers. I am compensated well and often enjoy a number of (expensive) fringe benefits without the drawbacks of being imbalanced as said visionaries often are (out of necessity really.) I stay balanced and I help to balance them, leading to a great deal of personal and job satisfaction.

There are countless roles that can lead to professional success as an “enabler” or “tool”. So I’m not saying don’t dream, I’m just saying that if you don’t have a specific dream, don’t stress it. Provide for yourself (and those you need to provide for) and take pride in that accomplishment. Just keep trying to improve yourself. Try things, fail (more than) a few times if you need to, and focus on what you want for yourself. You don’t have to have a direction as long as you keep yourself moving forward in some way. Keep making your own path, cutting through the jungle of life and you might just find that you look up and discover something that you or nobody else had thought of yet. Accidents like that have made a lot of people both rich and happy.

Always Be Honest With Yourself (And Others.)

“To thine own self be true…” – Shakespeare

“Being entirely honest with oneself is a good exercise.” -Freud

“If you want to be successful, you must respect one rule – Never lie to yourself.” – Coelho

This reoccurring theme throughout the ages is simple, but they don’t tell you have fucking difficult it actually is. I say this with no bitterness as I’ve been focused on keeping myself honest for almost a decade now. Though I feel like I’ve shared a bit of that backstory with you already… for those of you just joining us, long story short, I was a lying, manipulative asshole from my teenage years all the way up past the quarter-century mark of my life. I paid for it, learned from it and the one shining lesson above all else that I embraced was as stated above: Be honest with yourself first.

At first it was easy. My lies exposed, my life had shattered and come crumbling down around me. So many lies over so many years meant I didn’t even actually know who I was. Through all the attempts to be whatever I thought people wanted me to be, I actually began to buy into my own bullshit. And so, when said bullshit was cleared away, there was simply nothing. A husk, an empty shell stripped bare, an empty barrel with any trace of identity laying somewhere in the bottom of it. The easy part of this phase was that I had nothing to lose.

When you don’t care about anything, there is no reason to lie.

You always know where he’s coming from.

So I went on for a while as a non-filtered, brutally honest asshole. Abrasive, uncaring, broken. I severed ties with people whom had similar habits in lying that I had. In fairness I did try to educate them in the futility of that lifestyle, but like any drug it’s an ugly and destructive habit that is not so easily escaped. But I absolutely could not stand to be around it any more, so I left. After a while on my own I found those that respected and had the resilience for my abrasive honesty, but only some of them could actually handle it. The others felt they needed to change me, to fix me. The truth is I did need fixing, but not the way they thought. In the end it backfired on them because everything I represented came straight from the source, and when you’re in touch with your core like that – a direct link – nothing gets skewed.

But although that sounds ideal, it was miserable. Brutal, abrasive honesty with nothing to lose is lonely and broken and mostly incapable of operating in our society. Eventually I began to value things and people in various ways. Not (to this day) on an ideal level of love, but they became important nonetheless, and I was able to at least partially convey that to them (admittedly, some attempts went better than others.) I began to develop a filter. I still would not lie, and to this day I keep that tenant. But I began to withhold things for the sake of others, and maybe (without realizing it) for the sake of myself.

Many say that withholding is the same as lying, but I can’t quite get behind that. It’s situational, it depends on what you withhold from who, and why. It’s a grey area. Obviously if you are withholding relevant information from somebody that trusts you, then it is probably as destructive and deceptive as lying. So yes, in that case it’s along the same lines. This also includes “protecting” somebody from being hurt when they have every right to the information you have.

On the other hand, withholding information that falls into the lines of gossip about another, or exposes the secrets of somebody that trusts you is a virtuous thing. You have the information perhaps because you were involved or because they confided in you, but their secret is not yours to tell, even if that means that you must also withhold something about yourself that you might not normally.

But like all grey areas, all of those rationalizations are a delicate balance… sometimes only a step away from falling back into the habits of lying and deceit for the sake of self. This balance must be carefully maintained, and in every case it must start with you.

Situational… but clever.

It is easy to say “I’m honest with myself, and I’ve proven it so I can relax.” But that’s a trap, and one I believe I may be falling into. Don’t get me wrong, I still abhor lying outwardly and choose to be (at times) uncomfortably forthcoming. But inwardly I think it’s easy to become careless and I might very well be experiencing the results of that.

You see, the key to remember when endeavoring to be honest with yourself is to remember who you are. But the complicated aspect of that, is that who you are changes. Often. Sometimes gradually, sometimes near-instantly (and with an abundance of cosmic energy if you’re especially cool.) Being honest with yourself is a constant exercise in checking yourself against who you are, and in order to do that, you have to be ready to consistently accept some really unpleasant truths about yourself. Then, once you’ve pinpointed where you’re weak and ugly, you have to be willing to accept and then be outwardly honest about those faults through both words and action. This is the process of improving those things and therefore making yourself a more balanced, ultimately happier person.

On the same turn, you need to be really honest about what you like about yourself and what your strengths are. You would think this would be easy, but insecurity has a way of diminishing these attributes to you. It’s a defense mechanism that your mind puts in place when society starts teaching you that it’s bad to be different, or to like certain things depending on who you are, or any of the five billion other idiotic standards society tries to program into you from a young age.

So what’s the point? Why put so much effort into checking yourself when you could just act naturally and let that be who you are? Well, as I’ve been finding out through a number of difficult situations lately, if you don’t pay attention to who you are and what you’re about right now. You fall into the trap of personal rationalization. Instead of rationalizing your thoughts or actions outwardly, you do it inwardly and in regards to who you actually are. So you create this ideal image of who you are in your mind without the gut check. Instead of paying attention to how you feel about a particular situation or action you take, you create a persona and begin to check yourself against that as if it’s who you are. This is the lie, and one that many people intentionally fall into.

But the problem with believing your own persona, is that who you really are deep down doesn’t go away. If you’re really, really lucky it might adapt itself to your persona, but the vast majority of the time, it will instead sabotage it. If you don’t face it, the person you really are will sabotage you. Have you seen when seemingly powerful people have massive breakdowns? What about celebrities that have it all and then abruptly crack or even die? This list of causes is endless: Drugs, depression, anxiety, alcoholism, or general crazed, reckless behavior but it all comes down to the fact that those suffering in those cases were lying to themselves. About who they were, where they were weak, how they felt or what they needed help with. Celebrities are extreme cases because they live in extreme circumstances, but none of us (not even me) are immune.

So, for your sake, take some time to get to know you. Explore how you feel about things, people and the world completely separate of what anyone else thinks is best for you. Once you’ve done that, make sure you keep doing that as you change and grow and feel differently about things. Don’t lose touch with who you are and absolutely do not fall into the trap of rationalizing who you are – to yourself first – and then to anyone else. There is no rationalizing who and what you are at your core, you simply are. Though it takes some balance to know what to allow to the surface for others to see, you must accept yourself within raw and unfiltered. When you have a foundation of honesty such as that, it is both liberating and empowering. You know who you are, and nobody can take that from you.

What Exactly Is It About #911 You Plan To #NeverForget?

This is not a happy, fluffy post. This is not a thoughtful and peaceful post. This post will piss some of you off. In fact, I might even lose a couple friends over this, but that’s okay because if I do, fundamentally we wouldn’t have worked out anyway. But if you do plan to run off at some point, I ask that in the name of whatever our relationship up to this point has meant, you finish reading because I can’t promise all of this will come out coherently and in the order I intend, and maybe something, at some point will resonate with you a little. Maybe.

So today is the anniversary of a tragic natural disaster. Yep. Natural. I say this because you, and all those around you, are the single worst disaster that nature has ever come up with. Worse than earthquakes, category five hurricanes and the black plague put together. Your kind has murdered more life on this planet than any other force. Period.

What’s worse is that your general level of accountability (as a species) for being said disaster is proportionately microscopic compared to the damage you’ve done and continue to do. Now I say “you” because I’m talking to you. But I’m not excluding myself. I do plenty of things on a daily basis that cause harm to my environment and the living things around me. Some of it is necessary for my own continued survival (such as cooking food and destroying living bacteria) and some of it is not (such as producing waste from my consumption that ultimately damages the environment.) So I’m no innocent, at all, in fact I’m the first to tell many people close to me that I’m a relatively evil creature. But at least I know it.

What prompted me to write this… what grates at me like an itch I just had to scratch is the sheer amount of pompous mindlessness and ridiculous American elitism that stems from the anniversary of this disaster. The divide that is celebrated by people that weren’t even born or able to comprehend what was happening when this happened by using trendy hashtags.

Never forget? Never forget what!? That your brother’s, uncle’s dog was friends with somebody who knew somebody that died that day? And because of that you feel cool wearing your patriotic colors, openly hating on billions of people, and tossing up hashtags on social media so people can see how like Captain America you are? This shit is the problem. If that’s you, you’re part of the problem, and you will play a part in CREATING more of these disasters. And it’s not even your fault if you’re that young, because you’ve been taught that by those around you who validate themselves and whatever they feel (fear, hate, pride, whatever…) about this disaster by spouting off bullshit regarding the evil people in whatever flavor of the week it is.

On this day fourteen years ago, some ignorant, extremist humans that falsely represented a particular religion gave a huge amount of other ignorant humans what they falsely feel is justification to hate an entire culture. That is what happened, and that is only what happened. Everything else was done by those who had nothing to do with the original actions. Countless more terror and harm was caused by those claiming to be the good guys… to help, by bringing forth divine retribution for these horrible actions no matter the cost. They all succeeded. Those evil men on that plane succeeded and continue to because you people want an excuse to hate, and by god it’s your right as an American to take it. Further, your own people have used that same rationale against you to repress you and further their own agendas. How easily you are manipulated by hate and fear.

The faces of duty.

Now that I’m sure you’re suitably pissed off at how ignorant I am, or how narrow-minded I am being, let me clarify a few things. This is not about the soldiers. Soldiers sign up to do a job, a necessary job, and they follow orders. Without them, legions of evil and murderous people from all over the world, both within and outside our country would indeed invade and subjugate, murder or otherwise destroy us. Soldiers have to exist because hateful, animalistic humans exist and societies need to protect themselves from them. It’s a dirty job and they have to do it, end of story. I understand that, I support that, and I support them regardless of the many ridiculous and evil decisions their associates and superiors may make at times. And I know that many of them suffered themselves as a result of this tragedy and the decisions made as a result of it.

I am also most certainly not speaking of the actual victims of this tragedy. Not just those that lost somebody dear to them in the attack, or the live witnesses, or the brave responders, but those whose families suffered as a result of the circumstances that have followed. There are very few things more dangerous than a scared, cornered animal, and that’s how 9/11 made a lot of people, possibly most of our country, feel. Thus prompting them to do some very stupid, hateful things to very innocent people.

Most importantly, I am absolutely not speaking to the little girl who is probably not even Muslim, but looks like she could be and has her head covered in a similar manner. Today perhaps more likely than any other day this year, she might be struck in the head by a rock, brick or bottle thrown by somebody who thinks it’s okay to #NeverForget that he hates people, even though he lives thousands of miles away from what happened. In truth, both of those people are victims, one who has been taught to hate by the rallying call of “Merica’!” and the other, an innocent who is afraid that people will think that she is like the evil men on those planes when nothing could be farther from the truth.

Pass it down to the next generation…

The people I’m speaking to are those who perpetuate this hate and teach it to those who know no different. I’m speaking to those who make this tragedy so much more important than so many other tragedies because, let’s face it, it’s popular and of course “oh my god how dare this happen here! In the promised land of America instead of some other part of the world where it’s much more common… and still happening.” The irony, of course being that the men on those planes were also taught to hate, that’s what got them on those planes to begin with, the rallying cry was (falsely) for “Allah” instead of “Merica’ ” but in truth the difference ends there and the people here who are filled with that hate for them are far closer to the men on those planes than the little girl who looks like she could be, and isn’t.

That’s right, some of you that are far removed from this disaster but still use #911 to #NeverForget and promote mindless patriotism are dangerously close to the thinking of the men who caused this tragedy. It doesn’t end there, because that same hate is rampant towards everything that you believe is against you, your people, or your god. And when it comes down to that, there is very little difference. Because I’ve seen beneath your cool, civilized exterior, and I know what you would do to some of the people you are afraid of if you thought you could get away with it. Maybe you’ve risen above generalizing a primarily peaceful religion as full of terrorists. Maybe your flavor of hate is against black people, white people, gay people, straight people, female people, male people, little people or big people. But no matter your flavor, the moment you hate any particular group of people for simply being what they are, especially if it’s because you believe your god says you should, you are resonating with the men who caused and participated in the tragedy fourteen years ago.

Speaking of your god… Like many ideal concepts, religion can be a wonderful and amazing thing full of light. But let’s face it, humans suck at ideal concepts. For every one person who understands and does it right, there will be two more manipulative or just plain ignorant fucks who will twist it to their own flawed vision. Because of this, they fail. They fail the people who rely on them, and they fail the people outside of them. Instead of light, they breed hate. Instead of enlightenment, they breed ignorance. Instead of truth, they breed deceit and manipulation. This is not the fault of any god, this is the fault of ignorant people who are given free will and fail at it. It leaves the people who do it right outnumbered and powerless. Those people, who instinctively understand the true purpose of religion is to lift people, all people, up and try to bring them together are left struggling to not drown in the sea of those vying for power and pushing their (in)human agendas. That, my friends is exactly what caused this natural, human disaster fourteen years ago. And by the way, this wasn’t even close to the first time slaughter and senseless death has occurred in the name of religion… but of course you already know that. Where are those hashtags? I guess it’s not trendy or American enough.

So you won’t find me posting pictures of the twin towers, or firefighters that may or may not have even been there (but it’s a cool dramatic photo anyway.) And you won’t find me using #911 (seriously how confusing is that?!) or #NeverForget past this case because I wasn’t anywhere near the disaster and it’s had very little effect on my day-to-day life outside of giving some of the asshats that used to run my country the liberty to make bad decisions. I’m not going to tell you to #NeverForget what happened fourteen years ago today, because if you care that much you should be paying attention to this shit every day. And it’s not about reminding others to not forget, it’s about reminding yourself.

As I said above, I’m not trying to play holier than thou. I’ll be the first to admit there is an evil thing inside of me. It hates, it wants to hurt/kill people it thinks are wrong and it is lazy, apathetic and unmotivated when it comes to helping the community as a whole. But my saving grace is that I know better, and I try to do the three things I would ask any of you to do: Be aware, control it, and try to be a better person.

You want something to #NeverForget?

#NeverForget that to some people you are only a couple of steps away from being the men on that plane.
#NeverForget that hate and ignorance caused this and it continues to cause countless deaths and tragedies every day. #NeverForget that just because we live in a country that spends more on defense then the next sixteen countries on the list combined, we are not any more special than the people who do not, and who suffer tragedies like this yearly, monthly, weekly or daily.
#NeverForget that instead of posting empty, inspiring images and hashtagging them all over social media, you could be looking within yourself and tending to that part of you that is afraid of something different.
#NeverForget that when your fear produces hate as a reflex, you can fight that, and think, and do the one thing that humans are capable of that sets them apart from the animals they also recklessly destroy.
#NeverForget that you can reason past your emotions and knee-jerk reactions in order to try to be a better person. #NeverForget that you can support victims of tragedies and disasters quietly and consistently in your own way without needing an event to spur you to action. And…
#NeverForget that the first and most important step to solving any problem is being aware that you might be a part of it, and if so doing your best to minimize that.

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The Grey Area

Moderate. Libertine. Hedonist.

Lifestyle

About the Vagina: 25 Facts You Probably Don’t Know

9 Months Later…

2016 Retrospective and 2017: 希望

A Story Of Sluts

The Fading Magic Of Love

Now Begins 2016

You Don’t Have To “Follow Your Dreams”

Always Be Honest With Yourself (And Others.)

What Exactly Is It About #911 You Plan To #NeverForget?