Looking around the train carriage this morning, I am struck by the realisation that people inevitably get uglier as they get older.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, relationships are not based on looks, bla bla bla. But if physical intimacy is a key to sustaining a relationship how are you supposed to get aroused by the man who looks like the father in law you met 30 years ago and himself now resembles the man in the photograph?
After a while in a relationship sex can be a real effort. So how do you do it when you factor in a ridiculous commute, pressures at work and all the other demands which are an unfortunate consequence of adulthood?
Showing posts with label sociological observations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sociological observations. Show all posts
Tuesday, 22 November 2011
Tuesday, 18 October 2011
Fool for you? No thanks, I'm full
I'm no longer willing to be a fool for love. So why would I date one?
I was asked today by a friend if I felt I was missing out. My answer was an honest 'no'. I really don't. "But what if you miss out on that someone special?" She pressed. My reply was that I just don't have the inclination to be involved right now.
"But he could pass you by!" She seemed really concerned about this possibility. And so I said that I couldn't be bothered to spend all that time sorting the wheat from the chaff. Or in this case, chavs. "So you could have fun dating a whole bunch of unspecial guys. It can be a good way to spend your time".
I did give this some thought. Granted, dating can be fun. But as I said to her, "What's the point in spending all that time geting dressed up, making myself look pretty and allowing myself to become giddy with anticipation, only to try not to fall asleep or not staring at a really unattractive feature?" "But I'm sure we could find someone you'd -" I cut her off. No way am I going on a blind date. I've had enough bad dates where hey have at least been my choosing and I'd had a hint of interest in them. So why on earth would I subject myself to the torture of a blind date? Not only is it awkward and uncomfortable, but if you're having a crappy time how do you get away without being bloody obvious? "Shall we see the dessert menu? How about the Fool for you?" "No thanks, I'm full".
Not to mention how embarassing it would be to see them out again socially. And on the off chance it did work, Cupid (AKA your matchmaking friend) would always be in the middle - perfect for any arguments and disagreements. Your relationship essentially becomes a three-way, and not in a good way. Plus if said relationship were to not work out, the difficulties of the split would be complicated by the disappointment of Cupid. And then who does Cupid stay friends with?
I think what my lovely kind friend was thinking of was the chance of meeting a guy on the street, or the train, and him being the one. I do believe in fate and things happening for a reason. But I'm also realistic enough to know that there is a whopping distinction between movies and real life, and I know most men are not confident enough to approach a woman on the train. Commuters generally do not speak, especially in London. And the truth is, I am not so attractive that I am showered with date offers. Last guy was my ex. Maybe I'm not ugly, but I'm not someone you'd look twice at. So I'd rather abandon unnecessary hope and dreams and focus on what is important to me, and enjoy life instead of throwing "my life away on a dream that won't come true", as Rizzo so famously sang in Grease. Girlfriend got a point.
The fact that I'm not interested in dating right now means i am probably not giving out signals that I am available. And I'm honestly quite content like that.
I was asked today by a friend if I felt I was missing out. My answer was an honest 'no'. I really don't. "But what if you miss out on that someone special?" She pressed. My reply was that I just don't have the inclination to be involved right now.
"But he could pass you by!" She seemed really concerned about this possibility. And so I said that I couldn't be bothered to spend all that time sorting the wheat from the chaff. Or in this case, chavs. "So you could have fun dating a whole bunch of unspecial guys. It can be a good way to spend your time".
I did give this some thought. Granted, dating can be fun. But as I said to her, "What's the point in spending all that time geting dressed up, making myself look pretty and allowing myself to become giddy with anticipation, only to try not to fall asleep or not staring at a really unattractive feature?" "But I'm sure we could find someone you'd -" I cut her off. No way am I going on a blind date. I've had enough bad dates where hey have at least been my choosing and I'd had a hint of interest in them. So why on earth would I subject myself to the torture of a blind date? Not only is it awkward and uncomfortable, but if you're having a crappy time how do you get away without being bloody obvious? "Shall we see the dessert menu? How about the Fool for you?" "No thanks, I'm full".
Not to mention how embarassing it would be to see them out again socially. And on the off chance it did work, Cupid (AKA your matchmaking friend) would always be in the middle - perfect for any arguments and disagreements. Your relationship essentially becomes a three-way, and not in a good way. Plus if said relationship were to not work out, the difficulties of the split would be complicated by the disappointment of Cupid. And then who does Cupid stay friends with?
I think what my lovely kind friend was thinking of was the chance of meeting a guy on the street, or the train, and him being the one. I do believe in fate and things happening for a reason. But I'm also realistic enough to know that there is a whopping distinction between movies and real life, and I know most men are not confident enough to approach a woman on the train. Commuters generally do not speak, especially in London. And the truth is, I am not so attractive that I am showered with date offers. Last guy was my ex. Maybe I'm not ugly, but I'm not someone you'd look twice at. So I'd rather abandon unnecessary hope and dreams and focus on what is important to me, and enjoy life instead of throwing "my life away on a dream that won't come true", as Rizzo so famously sang in Grease. Girlfriend got a point.
The fact that I'm not interested in dating right now means i am probably not giving out signals that I am available. And I'm honestly quite content like that.
Thursday, 13 October 2011
Packaging
Sitting in Starbucks (no judgement please, the sofas are comfy and in the town I am currently temporarily inhabiting there's not a lot of choice for decent coffee). I've just looked around and realised how much packaging they use on their products. A group of 3 girls are drinking coffee and eating sandwiches (I'd kill for a cheese and marmite panini right now, but I can afford neither the money nor the carbs). The rubbish from their purchases is almost covering the table. I'm rather shocked.
No doubt some lovely shiny eco-conscious Starbucks spokeswoman would tell me it's all recyclable, but it does seem excessive. Has the 'War on Germs' (yes I use that expression disparagingly and sarcastically) and PC Health and Safety concerns overtaken the safety of our natural resources? It's all very well preventing people getting sick, but what happens when there are no more trees for said humans to breathe?
I digress - but what's new there. The reason for including this observation is to explain what got me thinking about packaging. Or in this case, the crap / facade / defensive mechanisms all humans hide behind. And also the way we present ourselves - clothes, hair, body - to make the inside seem more attractive.
My weakness is eyes. I'm a real sucker for them. I go nuts for them. A guy can be ugly as hell, but if he has good eyes...... And intellect. I need to be mentally stimulated and made to think about my opinions and beliefs.
I normally find it easy to talk to guys. I have male friends, a reasonably male sense of humour and I like hanging out with guys. Sometimes they are just that bit easier to take than women. Not always though; sometimes I need oestrogen. And some guys can be bitchier and more "typically female" than women. Given the fact that people are real, unique and complicated, I don't ascribe to gender stereotypes. But in general, I do enjoy spending time with men.
Until I like them - and then the whole field changes. I get tongue-tied, nervous and shy, and 'poof!' goes my confident exterior. I find myself wondering what their intentions are, what kind of person they are, what they're like in bed. I try not to show how I feel, which apparently contradicts all female flirting advice and effectively erects a barrier. Whilst simultaneously ensuring the lack of erection of something else. But according to my beloved friends, I am incapable of subtlety and thus when I like a guy it us bloody obvious and the source of much hilarity.
The worst thing is when I start to like a guy I didn't like before, someone I considered a mate and thus was completely myself with; i.e. not trying to be my fabulous self instead of clumsy goofy Phoenix. Given that I actually did not start to like my ex until it hit me like a truck reversing into my stomach, i.e. when we started kissing one night, and I had actually been flirting with another guy for a while in front of him, this scenario causes a whole lot of problems. Plus, how do you act around them once you realise? Do you keep being yourself, as that is what he has obviously fallen for, or do you try to be the glamourous, fabulous woman you want him to see you as? And how do you go from mate to date? If he doesn't like you, can you ever get your friendship back on track once you have revealed your true feelings to him?
Maybe the idea of a relationship is to be able to be yourself and they will love you for all that you are, but how bloody likely is that? Given that we are all flawed, yet judgemental of others and seek perfection in partners, how can we ever be truly happy?
No doubt some lovely shiny eco-conscious Starbucks spokeswoman would tell me it's all recyclable, but it does seem excessive. Has the 'War on Germs' (yes I use that expression disparagingly and sarcastically) and PC Health and Safety concerns overtaken the safety of our natural resources? It's all very well preventing people getting sick, but what happens when there are no more trees for said humans to breathe?
I digress - but what's new there. The reason for including this observation is to explain what got me thinking about packaging. Or in this case, the crap / facade / defensive mechanisms all humans hide behind. And also the way we present ourselves - clothes, hair, body - to make the inside seem more attractive.
My weakness is eyes. I'm a real sucker for them. I go nuts for them. A guy can be ugly as hell, but if he has good eyes...... And intellect. I need to be mentally stimulated and made to think about my opinions and beliefs.
I normally find it easy to talk to guys. I have male friends, a reasonably male sense of humour and I like hanging out with guys. Sometimes they are just that bit easier to take than women. Not always though; sometimes I need oestrogen. And some guys can be bitchier and more "typically female" than women. Given the fact that people are real, unique and complicated, I don't ascribe to gender stereotypes. But in general, I do enjoy spending time with men.
Until I like them - and then the whole field changes. I get tongue-tied, nervous and shy, and 'poof!' goes my confident exterior. I find myself wondering what their intentions are, what kind of person they are, what they're like in bed. I try not to show how I feel, which apparently contradicts all female flirting advice and effectively erects a barrier. Whilst simultaneously ensuring the lack of erection of something else. But according to my beloved friends, I am incapable of subtlety and thus when I like a guy it us bloody obvious and the source of much hilarity.
The worst thing is when I start to like a guy I didn't like before, someone I considered a mate and thus was completely myself with; i.e. not trying to be my fabulous self instead of clumsy goofy Phoenix. Given that I actually did not start to like my ex until it hit me like a truck reversing into my stomach, i.e. when we started kissing one night, and I had actually been flirting with another guy for a while in front of him, this scenario causes a whole lot of problems. Plus, how do you act around them once you realise? Do you keep being yourself, as that is what he has obviously fallen for, or do you try to be the glamourous, fabulous woman you want him to see you as? And how do you go from mate to date? If he doesn't like you, can you ever get your friendship back on track once you have revealed your true feelings to him?
Maybe the idea of a relationship is to be able to be yourself and they will love you for all that you are, but how bloody likely is that? Given that we are all flawed, yet judgemental of others and seek perfection in partners, how can we ever be truly happy?
Actions, intentions, and a whole lot more besides
They say that actions speak louder than words. But what about when actions speak louder than intentions?
We are judged on what we do, not what we think. So far, Kafka's thought police remains merely a nasty idea in this country. So only our actions can be known. Unless we decide to discuss what we are thinking - in which case we open ourselves up to criticism of our thought processes.
But we are seen by others through the lens of our behaviours. This has led me to realise that what I think and feel are secondary to what I do.
Everyone has thoughts, feelings and urges. This is human nature. Human nature has been debated by religious scholars for thousands of years with a lot of different theories and arguments in existence. The extent to which we can control or suppress our urges is a topic under increasingly intense scrutiny since the growth of globalisation - the more we learn about other cultures and beliefs, the more we question our own. That questioning can then lead to a renewed sense of faith in our beliefs, or a crisis in which we question what we know and what we believe to be true.
Religious devotees choose to reject the pleasures of the flesh in order to commune with their deity. Buddhist monks, Catholic nuns.... As I've said before I have the utmost respect for this practise, and of course I do not cast aspersions on their devotion.
But I do wonder - do they really never have any sexual thoughts? Is that even possible, to train the mind to focus only on religion? Can you talk yourself out of human instinct? Of course it's possible to never express any such urges. It's even possible to never say that you have these thoughts. But can you ever really lie to yourself and convince yourself? Do such sexual thoughts disappear over time? I know a lot of older people don't have sex. They may not even talk about it. But it doesn't mean they don't want it, or remember how good it was.
Maybe when shielded from the world and its pressures, living a life removed from what so many of us call reality, electing to be in a single-sex grouping and not leaving the confines of the monastery / convent, it is easier to circumnavigate sexual urges. But when out in the world, continuing to work and live and socialise with others who do have sex, it is a much harder thing to do to give up sex. Quite a few of the responses I have recieved to this piece of information have been shock, disbelief, and refusal to accept that I will maintain it. Maybe I will, maybe I won't, but I'm determined to give it a damn good try.
And if the Whirling Dervishes of Konya can see their dizziness as communion with God, when there is a physiological reason for their heightened emotional state, surely an orgasm constitutes a direct link to God, especially when so many people say "Oh my God" as they come?
Not trying to be controversial or disrespectful, I'm just thinking.
We are judged on what we do, not what we think. So far, Kafka's thought police remains merely a nasty idea in this country. So only our actions can be known. Unless we decide to discuss what we are thinking - in which case we open ourselves up to criticism of our thought processes.
But we are seen by others through the lens of our behaviours. This has led me to realise that what I think and feel are secondary to what I do.
Everyone has thoughts, feelings and urges. This is human nature. Human nature has been debated by religious scholars for thousands of years with a lot of different theories and arguments in existence. The extent to which we can control or suppress our urges is a topic under increasingly intense scrutiny since the growth of globalisation - the more we learn about other cultures and beliefs, the more we question our own. That questioning can then lead to a renewed sense of faith in our beliefs, or a crisis in which we question what we know and what we believe to be true.
Religious devotees choose to reject the pleasures of the flesh in order to commune with their deity. Buddhist monks, Catholic nuns.... As I've said before I have the utmost respect for this practise, and of course I do not cast aspersions on their devotion.
But I do wonder - do they really never have any sexual thoughts? Is that even possible, to train the mind to focus only on religion? Can you talk yourself out of human instinct? Of course it's possible to never express any such urges. It's even possible to never say that you have these thoughts. But can you ever really lie to yourself and convince yourself? Do such sexual thoughts disappear over time? I know a lot of older people don't have sex. They may not even talk about it. But it doesn't mean they don't want it, or remember how good it was.
Maybe when shielded from the world and its pressures, living a life removed from what so many of us call reality, electing to be in a single-sex grouping and not leaving the confines of the monastery / convent, it is easier to circumnavigate sexual urges. But when out in the world, continuing to work and live and socialise with others who do have sex, it is a much harder thing to do to give up sex. Quite a few of the responses I have recieved to this piece of information have been shock, disbelief, and refusal to accept that I will maintain it. Maybe I will, maybe I won't, but I'm determined to give it a damn good try.
And if the Whirling Dervishes of Konya can see their dizziness as communion with God, when there is a physiological reason for their heightened emotional state, surely an orgasm constitutes a direct link to God, especially when so many people say "Oh my God" as they come?
Not trying to be controversial or disrespectful, I'm just thinking.
Flirting becomes boring
It's been a while since I've flirted with anyone. Day by day, my attraction to my colleague has been decreasing. Nothing he's done especially, but more of an "actually I'm alright thanks" attitude on my part. So this time spent not doing what I was used to has instead been dedicated to thinking. And observing the world around me.
It has struck me just how much confusion and chaos is caused by the simple act of flirting. For both sexes. But I've been thinking about male behaviours recently and so it is to those I am referring now.
Women tend to see a guy who flirts as in to her. Or maybe as a bit of a lad. Possibly just trying to get involved and not be too obvious about it. Maybe he uses it to cover up his insecurities and be seen as fun and exciting. But my conclusions are a tad more simple. Who knows, I could be wrong. But it's amazing how much easier it is to be objective when you remove yourself from a situation and look at it as though a passer-by.
Maybe some guys like to flirt. Maybe some of them just want the attention. But it would be helpful if they were more fucking explicit in their intentions.
I'm glad I'm not flirting with guys I work with anymore. But I am a bit bored here. Everyone here is coupled up, living here and working permanently. Homes, hobbies, husbands. I, by contrast, feel as though I am still at summer camp and thus miss being hedonistic. I am glad I have applied the brakes and slowed down a gear, but slowing down does give me more time to think. Which I don't like so much.
I'm glad I'm doing this, sorting out who I am and what I'm about. Sorting out my relationship behaviours so I can get back to being me again. Single really is the best way for me to be free. But right now starvation and total self-deprivation is so not fun.
Will I really manage to keep this going for another 47 weeks? It will be interesting to see where this voyage of self-discovery takes me. I cannot envisage what will happen, but hopefully in a year I'll be stronger, independent and wiser.
Or not. But I'm sure it will be an interesting journey. Just gotta stick to it. Thank god for cigarettes.
It has struck me just how much confusion and chaos is caused by the simple act of flirting. For both sexes. But I've been thinking about male behaviours recently and so it is to those I am referring now.
Women tend to see a guy who flirts as in to her. Or maybe as a bit of a lad. Possibly just trying to get involved and not be too obvious about it. Maybe he uses it to cover up his insecurities and be seen as fun and exciting. But my conclusions are a tad more simple. Who knows, I could be wrong. But it's amazing how much easier it is to be objective when you remove yourself from a situation and look at it as though a passer-by.
Maybe some guys like to flirt. Maybe some of them just want the attention. But it would be helpful if they were more fucking explicit in their intentions.
I'm glad I'm not flirting with guys I work with anymore. But I am a bit bored here. Everyone here is coupled up, living here and working permanently. Homes, hobbies, husbands. I, by contrast, feel as though I am still at summer camp and thus miss being hedonistic. I am glad I have applied the brakes and slowed down a gear, but slowing down does give me more time to think. Which I don't like so much.
I'm glad I'm doing this, sorting out who I am and what I'm about. Sorting out my relationship behaviours so I can get back to being me again. Single really is the best way for me to be free. But right now starvation and total self-deprivation is so not fun.
Will I really manage to keep this going for another 47 weeks? It will be interesting to see where this voyage of self-discovery takes me. I cannot envisage what will happen, but hopefully in a year I'll be stronger, independent and wiser.
Or not. But I'm sure it will be an interesting journey. Just gotta stick to it. Thank god for cigarettes.
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