Sex, Lies and Dating in the City

Thankful? Sure

Simone Grant — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 06:07:22 -0800

I have a lot to be thankful for. No doubt about that. No list today.

AND I'm single. And 39. And that's one of things I'm thankful for.

Because the life I'm leading right now: starting over in my late 30s with a new career, meeting new people and being more social than I've been in years, that's all connected to my being single. And none of it would be happening if I wasn't right where I am. Single. Living my life. In this time and place.

Frequent readers of this blog have heard me use the phrase, "I don't believe in much", on several occasions. And it's true. I am a firm disbeliever in most things. But here's one big thing I believe in: It all works out in the end. If it hasn't worked out, it's not the end.

My story, the story of me and dating and relationships, it's nowhere near the end. Now, I have no idea how it's going to end. Maybe the end looks a lot like now (me being single). Or maybe it looks a lot different in some way that I can't possibly imagine. But I'm not going to know until I get there.

The point is, I'm thankful for the life I have now. Truly thankful.

We All Make Compromises, But...

Simone Grant — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 11:24:26 -0800

We all make compromises. Well, most of us do. Life isn't perfect. Heck, sometimes it isn't even fair. As adults we learn to make the best of what we have (I'm so not a fan of making lemonade out of lemons. I don't see why I can't appreciate a lemon for what it is.).

That said, there are some compromises that I'm not prepared to make, ever. Not prepared to, nor capable of, quite frankly.

For example, I could never continue in a long-term relationship with a man if the sex wasn't good. I just couldn't. And yes, I've actually tried. Great guy, could've fallen for him. But the sex wasn't there.

And yet plenty of other women do it. Men too, I guess. Take this woman who wrote into the Sex & Love Forum in More Magazine:

"Truthfully, he has never been that great in bed, even before we were married 18 years ago, but I wanted to feel close to him. For me, the best part was afterwards, when we just lay in each other’s arms. I feel like sex was not something at the top of my list. We had 4 kids and now that I’m 42 (husband is 45) I want MORE! It bugs me when he all done and I’m still waiting for my turn that never comes….. What to do?"

She doesn't sound miserable. Unsatisfied, sexually, sure. But not miserable. She loves her husband and the sex wasn't that important to her. Now she wants more. I'm guessing she's not that unusual. That there are plenty of women around her age (my age) who are in sexually unsatisfying relationships and who aren't miserable.

But I couldn't do it. It's not a compromise I could live with.

What about you? Could you enter into a long-term relationship with someone who didn't satisfy you sexually? Could you marry that person?

Long Trip

Simone Grant — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 14:07:21 -0800

I've spent the last 24 hours + in a car with a couple of friends. Long story on why. We've already driven through 3 and 1/2 states, soon to be 4. We're making great time, and having fun (the two giant bags of snack food we bought for the ride have helped to keep us jolly).

I'd just like to state for the record that I've never attempted a trip like this with a guy (one that I was romantically linked to). Nor can I imagine doing so.

Perhaps it's just that I have a limited imagination? Or that I've never had the kind of relationship that was flexible enough to withstand this kind of abuse (3 strong-willed adults in a car speeding across the country, egads). All I know is that just thinking of it makes me giggle.

Nope. I can't imagine it.

On a totally random tangent, I've decided to return to the dating world just as soon as we get back to NYC and I've had time unpack and recover from the trip. I'm kinda over that other stuff.

Expect a return to your regularly scheduled blogposts tomorrow. Promise.

Public/Private: Drawing Lines

Simone Grant — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 08:29:40 -0800

So I'm away this weekend. Well, I'm still away and it's Monday and so it's more of a long weekend. I tweeted about it on Friday as I dealt with airport chaos, delayed flights and screaming children but have been pretty quiet since then.

I'm still not entirely comfortable sharing too many details of my life. Not here, nor on twitter or facebook. And truthfully, not even with most of my friends.

The number of people who I tell everything to is tiny. And I kind of like it that way.

And, in case you're wondering, there's only ever been one guy who's made it into that group. Usually I keep guys at arms length. Not until they earn my trust. Always. Because, honestly, they usually don't earn my trust.

Which is why it was so hard when the one man who I ever completely trusted turned into a total douchebag. Because it was more than a breakup. More than just another relationship that didn't work out. More than just another case of my poor judgment.

It was a betrayal of my trust. My hard earned trust.

Anyway, I think I might be babbling. I'm horribly undercaffienated right now, so please forgive me. I'm home by Wednesday and then things return to something resembling normal.

Mama's Best Advice

Simone Grant — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 10:24:01 -0800

This week's Guy's Story is by Jackie Summers. I gave his great blog, F*cking in Brooklyn, a shout out earlier this week. You should check it out. Today is Sunday and that means it's time for another Guy's Story. Every Sunday I have posts from male guest authors.

Mama's Best Advice, part 1

'Never love anybody more than they love you.' It's simultaneously the best advice my Mom ever gave me, and the hardest to apply.

Just to clarify, this is meant to apply to romantic involvements alone. I know that in her capacity as a parent, my Mom would have rivaled any mountain lion in ferocity if her cubs were threatened. If you are a parent, please love your kids more than yourself.

I'd also cite exception in any instance where a man has to be a man. I sincerely believe that every woman should have some man in their life who is willing to kill or die for them. Sometimes, to protect those who can't protect themselves, the greatest sacrifices are called for. Mom's number one rule is amended here as well.

Mom gets recognition as an authority on relationships because her marriage flourished for fifty-six years* and bore five children. My parents adored each other; they were best friends who never stopped dating until my Dad's passing six years ago. The simple secret to my parents lasting loving relationship?

Simple. Mama ain't take no mess.

In the six decades she knew my father, Mom demonstrated over and over again that no matter how much she loved him, her love for herself established the terms on which her relationship would be conducted.

Mom spotted the guy who would become my Dad walking through Harlem to church on a bright Sunday morning in 1943. She followed him, and when she realized he was the organist at the church he attended, she switched churches and joined the choir.

Way to go after your man, Mom!

Fast forward three years and my Dad is playing piano for Louis Armstrong. He's got one thing to lock down before he hits the road with the band: make sure your woman is still your woman when you get back from touring. He proposed, Mom said yes, and the wedding planning--and the problems began.

My father's parents, immigrants from the proper Caribbean island of St. Kitts were excited about their eldest son getting married, and began to construct a grand elaborate affair. My mothers parents, equally proud immigrants from Barbados, simply couldn't afford the extravaganza their future in-laws were creating. Seeing tensions rise as the whole thing ballooned out of proportion, my Mom applied her number one rule in a way that would reverberate throughout my parents marriage:

She called the whole thing off.

She refused to see or speak to Dad for weeks. Finally my Dad showed up on her doorstep one morning before work, unannounced. 'Listen' he pleaded, 'we've got rings, we've got the license, we love each other. We don't need a wedding. Let's just go down to city hall.' Mom didn't give him a chance to rethink his position. 'Fine' she said, 'you want to get married, let's go. Right NOW.'

On the morning of November 13, 1947, childhood sweethearts were pronounced man and wife by a civil judge. Mom kissed Dad, fixed her make-up and then went to work, as if nothing had happened. She got home that evening and casually announced 'I got married this morning; I'm packing my things and leaving tonight.'

Is it any wonder I fall so hard for strong women?

My Worst

Simone Grant — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 10:26:21 -0800

A while ago I posted (sorry, I couldn't find the post to reference it) this quote from Marilyn Monroe, "If you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best".

Poor, dear Marilyn.

Anyway, it came to mind yesterday as I was screaming at someone (she earned it) over the phone. I've been at my worst a lot lately. A lot. Lots of bad days. Things keep going wrong. Work stuff, health stuff, family stuff. STRESS has been taking its toll.

My worst is pretty hard to handle. I stop self editting and go a little overboard on the aggression. I get loud and sometimes even cruel. No, I'm not bragging. Just being honest. My worst sucks.

Maybe it's time I realize that only certain types of men can handle that.

8 8 I forget what 8 was for

Simone Grant — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 05:25:45 -0800

How did it get to be the week before Thanksgiving? Seriously?

Anyway, this is a leading up to Thanksgiving post. When I think of Thanksgiving, I think of sharing and I think of friends (yeah, and being thankful, too). But really, for me it's more about the sharing and the friends. So today I wanted to share some of the blogs that I've been reading lately. Some of these I've mentioned already. Most I haven't.

Kiss & Blog: from a post last week called Friday Fluffer - Rock Her World; "One advantage of writing a blog vaguely about sex is that people send me interesting things." We go on to learn all about porn arithmatic.
I Hate the Way You Eat Cereal: A group blog that takes a comedic look at dating. A recent post that had me laughing out loud was Little Willy. Just click and read. And laugh.
30-F-London which bills itself as the "(sex) life and (kinky) times of a 30 year old nymphet in London. From her recent post, The things I love about men - the-not-so-tall, "... I mean, we're all the same lying down!"
The blogs of Bitch Magazine have been making me very happy lately. Very, very happy. Even when they're writing about things that I find extremely frustating (read - Douchebag Decree: Robert Rector Hopes You're Hungry for an example of a great but frustrating post).
F*cking in Brooklyn: I just tripped over this blog last week (or so) and I can't believe it took me so long to fine it (the tag line is, "Love as a life or death experience"). No sneak preview here, as the very talented author is going to be this Sunday's guest author.
The Daily What. There are no words. I'm not sure I can be friends with you if you don't read this.
First Person Singular calls itself "an online gathering place, resource guide (and yes, venting booth) for single women". Whatever. It's well-written and the author, Wendy Braitman, drinks Makers Mark Manhattans and so she's clearly an awesome person.
Lastly, there are over a dozen blogs on this list. I kinda put the group together and so they reflect who I like and respect (in other words, there isn't a crappy site on the list). I strongly suggest you taking a few minutes to read browse through them, maybe add them to your bookmarks...

Oh, and about that title. I'm incapable of making a list without hearing Kiss Off by the Violent Femmes, loudly, in my head. So I figured I'd share that, too. Oh, and if you're unfamiliar with the song you'll catch on at about the 2:41 mark.

People Change

Simone Grant — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 05:22:42 -0800

People change, but not always the way we want them to. I'm just going to throw that out there as a starting point.

I apologize if I've already told this story, or parts of this story. A long, long time ago I was a young college student. Not a young, naive college student. I don't, actually, remember ever being naive. But I was young. And for a while I had this boyfriend who I'll call D. D was very, very cute. And kinda not very bright. But very, very cute. He was a few years older than me and claimed to have graduated from college a couple of years earlier (not the same school I went to) but I never entirely believed him because, as I already mentioned, he was kinda not very bright. I'd like to also mention that he was a really great guy, in a lot of ways. He volunteered at a local nursing home and was good to his family (babysat for his sister's kids, for example). And the sex was great.

Anyway, we split up for a fairly mundane reason, but I never really regretted it. I didn't see us having a future. Just lots of fun while it lasted.

Skip to a few years after I graduated when I get a call from my mom. D had called her and told her that he never stopped thinking about me and really wanted to get in touch with me (which translated in my mind to, he just got out of a relationship and was dreaming of gfs past). My mom didn't give him my number, but she did take his for me. And I was curious (read - not seeing anyone special) and so I called him.

He was still living in the same place, doing an even crappier job than the one he had when I was seeing him (at this point I was finishing up grad school), a few hours outside of NYC. His brother, however, happened to live just around the corner from me. So we made plans for him to spend the next weekend with his brother. I agreed to have dinner with him on Friday night. Nothing more.

A good friend of mine from college happened to work at a fairly swanky french restaurant. And I knew that if I asked nicely he could comp us our dinners/drinks. I barely ever went anywhere really nice, being a grad student, and I figured it would make the night extra-special. BAD MOVE. When it came time to order, D got all panicky(he was intimidated by the restaurant and the menu) and just ordered the same thing I did. I can't recall exactly what it was, other than it was seafood. And it turns out that D despised seafood. So he spent the dinner pushing his food around his plate like a child. It seems that, while I had grown and developed some more sophisticated tastes, D was still living off of beer and wings (which I love, btw) and pizza. Add to that that we had nothing to talk about anymore. Absolutely nothing. I kept trying to think of things to say, but his answers were all either monosyllabic or ridiculous. My swanky dinner was a total disaster.

So you'd imagine that I gave him a hug goodnight and never saw him again. No, don't be silly. I brought him back to my place and had really, really bad sex with him.

Not only didn't we get along as people anymore, but the sex also went bad. Whatever it was that made the sex amazing just a few years earlier was gone. And what we were left with was awful. Really, really awful.

I guess it just comes down to this - people change. Not because we want them to. And not in ways you'd expect. But they do. We all do. A little bit everyday. No one stays the same. Not for long. The bond that D and I had, it wasn't that deep to begin with, and so we didn't stand a chance. We'd both changed too much, become too different. So much so that even the flicker of chemistry we still shared wasn't enough to give us one night of good sex.

Can Anyone Have It All?

Simone Grant — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 06:23:25 -0800

I have a very distinct memory of, when I was in elementary school, my family having Chinese food every Friday night for dinner. It was the only night of the week that we all sat around the table and ate as a family.

Most other nights my mom just gave us what we were having to eat in front of the television (there were lots of these TV dinners for kids that had fried chichen and tater tots - mmm tater tots). Mom would eat sometime after that, alone in the kitchen and then, hours later, she would serve my dad his dinner when he got home. He worked long hours and had a long commute and so he ate alone. Except for Fridays, when we were young. That tradition ended by the time I hit junior high school.

He couldn't have it all. A good job, a house, two cars, kids that he spent quality time with. He had the family and the stuff, but he had to live without the quality time. As did many men of his generation. And they did it without thinking too much about it because that was the way things were. My mom quit her job when she got married. That was also the way things were.

Anyway, this is what came to mind as I read Broadsheet's post, Girls, forget "having it all", about the British headmistress who pointed out that maybe it's time that girls were told that having it all wasn't as easy as it seemed.

I happen to think she made some sensible points. Encouraging blind optimism in the face of potentially overwhelming challenges isn't helpful. I can think of more than one woman I know who was driven to despair because her attempt to have it all didn't quite work out the way she thought it would.

But then, and I'll admit that my perspective on this can't possibly be fair because I never tried to "have it all" and spent my 20s and early 30s married to my job, maybe the probem isnt' that girls can't have it all but rather that no one can. Again, I look to my dad and the men of his generation who, quite frankly, barely saw their kids during the workweek. Perhaps it's impossible for any person to work more than 40 hours a week (plus commuting time) and spend quality time with their family?

I'm not suggesting that women (and men) have to choose between career and family. Rather that we be more realistic about what can and can't be done in a single day or week.

Anyway, that's my question: Is it possible for a person - MAN OR WOMAN - to work more than 40 hours a week and spend quality time with their family?

Pretty Please With Sugar On Top

Simone Grant — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 05:34:57 -0800

Recently, The Frisky did a post/poll called What Would Get You To Take Your Ex Back? I found it interesting for all of the obvious reasons. Here were the options they gave readers to vote for:

The way back to my heart is through my stomach. Candies, wining and dining, a special home-cooked meal, etc. Yep, that does the trick.
Candy is nice, but I'm into jewelry and fancy cars. You think Kim from "The Real Housewives of Atlanta" takes Big Poppa back for less?
It's hard to admit when I'm wrong. If he wants to talk it out, I know he cares and that's the only reason to stay together.
I'm in it for the make-up sex. If he says sorry and flashes those puppy dog eyes, that's good enough for me!
Nothing. If I take him back, I'm lying down and giving up when I just need to move on.
He has to do something super romantic, something so brag-worthy that Jennifer Aniston would want to star in the movie version of our love story.

And then this week they posted the results. They were a bit, um, disturbing (on their list of things that work - #6. Get way hotter. Shallow? Yes. Effective? Yes.). Maybe it's just that I'm too old for this particular mag? Quite possibly.

Anyway, it's a topic I've been giving a lot of thought to (for all of those obvious reasons). Once something is over, and you've decided it's over because the person is not treating you well, or they have characteristics you can't live with in a partner, why would you take them back? How could any gesture be grand enough? Any talk be honest and heartfelt enough? Isn't this whole topic just a little bit masochistic?

Or maybe I need to get in touch with my inner romantic and (re)learn to believe in love and stuff?