Because Sex Sells

As an avid PostSecret fan and community member, I naturally gravitate toward similar projects. I’ve been playing around with the Whisper app on my phone for a few months now thanks to Alyza telling me about it. It’s basically the alternative to the once upon a time alive PostSecret app, which got killed because apparently Frank Warren wasn’t down for all the negativity that was happening on it.

Anyway, last night I posted a Whisper (secret) that was slightly sexual in nature. I’ve thought about divulging the exact contents of it, but that’s not entirely relevant. What is relevant, however, is the amount of attention I got from it. Within seconds of it going live, my inbox was flooded, and I mean flooded, with messages from men. About 80% of them were perverted in nature, begging to see and what not. The other 20% were more conversational and seemed rather concerned. Those were the ones I answered.

At any rate, I thought this was an interesting subject to talk about tonight. I’ve posted a nice handful of Whispers and none of them have ever gotten me any private messages, much less so many so quickly. I find it interesting that the minute I post one that’s even vaguely sexual, I’m still drowning in messages I can’t even get to because there’s 15 more coming in. I feel like this says something about our society. Maybe that we’re sexually deprived…or depraved.

I can’t deny that sex interests me. I deeply considered going into sexual therapy as my major in college while I was in high school. That said, I understand where these people were coming from, sending me these messages. Apparently it doesn’t take a lot to spark just a tiny bit of interest in people when it comes to sex. Truly. I’m genuinely still in awe.

Moral of the story? If you want attention, talk about sex. Because sex sells. Really.

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Personality Traits

Day 23: 10 personality traits you look for in a partner

1. Humor. You’ve gotta be able to make me laugh. I can’t be around people who can’t take and give jokes, you know?

2. Trustworthiness. I want to know I can go to bed trusting you not to sleep around with others or blabbing my secrets and shit.

3. Communication. If I don’t know what you want, I can’t give it to you. I can’t fix anything. This is the key in any kind of relationship. Plus, if you can talk to me for hours and I’m not bored, you’ve probably hooked me line and sinker.

4. Responsibility. I think this comes with a certain level of maturity. Like, own up to your faults, do what you need to do, don’t rely on me to do shit for you like a child, etc.

5. Nerdy/Geeky factor. I like my men to be knowledgeable in shit like Star Trek and science and Tron and all of that. You like The Big Bang Theory partly because you totally get the nerdy jokes in that!? You wanna buy me a Pokemon bra because it’s kinda really awesome!? LET’S DO THIS.

6. Sweetness/romanticism. I love that mushy stuff. Letters, notes, cute little goodbyes, hand-holding, little messages throughout the day to remind me you like me, offering to do something for me, etc? Sign me up, right now.

7. Similar taste in music/movies/other entertainment. No horror movies. Plenty of alternative rock. Let’s watch some FIFA.

8. Artistic. I often tend to get along with people “of my kind”. As in, artists. If you can appreciate art as much as me, we’re pretty golden.

9. Open-minded/liberal. Sorry, I try not to associate with homophobes, bible humpers, conservatives, misogynists, anti-abortionists, and the like. Don’t like it? Don’t care.

10. Healthy sexual appetite. I mean, really. It’s an integral part of a relationship.

How Love/Lust Goggles Work

You know how sometimes you sit there knowing what you want to say but not entirely sure whether or not you should say it? It’s not even necessarily something important or controversial or anything like that, but rather just passing (or not so passing) thoughts you feel you want to share with people and at the same time don’t. That’s what I’ve been doing for the past hour or so. Surfing the internet, avoiding writing a post for these reasons:
1. I wasn’t exactly sure what to write about. Sometimes the topic well dries up.
2. I was hoping for a stroke of brilliance. Not sure this is it, but at least I’m writing something?

Also, do you ever notice when you’re in love/lust with someone you kinda get your head stuck in a bubble…or rather you have perma-love/lust goggles on? I always found that fascinating throughout my life. It’s kind of like, no matter what the person who you’re love/lusting for does or says, etc., you think it’s the greatest shit in the world. Now, that’s a little exaggerated, but it’s the basic idea I’m trying to get at.

For example, they could be spouting off all kinds of things that perhaps generally you’d be a little offended by or otherwise, but because you hold this certain special spot for them in your little heart, you let it slide. But the whole time, in the back of your mind you know you’d probably be annoyed if you didn’t have just a huge boner for them.

Furthermore, ever noticed how when you’ve got the love goggles on, whoever that respective person is, they’re like, 100x more attractive than they’d be if you didn’t have a raging erection for them? They could be your average person walking down the street, but because your brain decided to, oh I don’t know, glorify this person, you find them to be God’s gift to Earth. And it gets better. If you get close enough, they start to smell good too. Regardless of whether or not they’re sprayin’ Axe all over themselves – pheromones are a-waftin’ in your direction and they smell like 37 pounds of pure, unadulterated sexual tension. 

I didn’t mention Cupid & Psyche in this post whatsoever, but look at them. They’re so into each other, you could serve the tension in an ice cube tray.

And then all you can think about is all kinds of various scenarios with this person in your head. From the obvious sexual ones to the “holy crap am I really planning a wedding, kids, and home life with this person in my mind right now?” thoughts. Don’t forget the meeting the parents, showering together, cooking adventures, back to sex, witty banter conversations, what it might be like to sleep in the same bed, more sexualness, traveling together, etc etc etc – all rushing through your mind in a mere split second the moment you see them walk in a room or catch yourself getting a whiff of their pheromones. And all you want to do is cut that sexual tension with a knife and spatulate (YEAH I MADE THAT WORD UP) that shit on a plate with some whipped cream and a bing cherry on top and serve it.

But you have to sit there and bite your tongue and endure not entirely knowing whether or not you’re imagining the sexual tension because you can’t just ask, that’s awkward. You have to beat around the bush and play stupid little games and worry yourself a little sick wondering whether or not they reciprocate your feelings, hoping and praying and really wanting to believe that your brain isn’t tricking you into believing they like you back because you like them so much that you’re starting to lull yourself into seeing what you want to see.

Yes, love/lust is interesting. But it’s worse not knowing whether that person reciprocates your feelings because you feel like you’re constantly being pulled along this fish line with no definite answer. At least then you can grieve about it and move on if they don’t. Right? It hurts, but it’s true.

ETA: I completely forgot to add what happens after the love/lust goggles come off. Are you ready for this? You come to your damn senses and realize that person isn’t actually that hot, they’re not actually that smart or witty, and you wonder to yourself, what the hell was I thinking? AND THEN YOU DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN!

April Fool’s Eve.

Cheers to another boring day. I spent about 3 hours on Skype with my best friend today. We, or rather I, beat my head looking for our small black carry-on luggage (because I had another ‘nightmare’ last night about packing an hour before my flight was supposed to take off) only to find out that my grandma took it back to Romania with her last year. So I really do need to buy a new carry-on. Although I’m trying to find a bag that isn’t as small as a small carry-on and not as big as a mid-sized bag.

I also watched Religulous on Netflix, which was a fantastic documentary that Bill Maher did in 2008. It really brought to light just how vast the Christian faith stretches across America, as well as how incredibly fucking brain-washed people are. Along with other religions too. I’m not going to begin to explain the entirety of this movie, so I’ll just highly encourage you all to see it for yourselves. I personally thought it was bloody brilliant and it made me want to be Bill Maher’s bff.

And then I went to Target. Not because I needed anything, but because it’s conveniently right by my house and I was extremely bored. I ended up buying hair dye because I remembered while I was trying on dresses that I actually do need that desperately, and I found these cute orange ombre “dipping bowls.” They’re more like ice cream bowls in my opinion. I ended up buying those too with the thought of my mom yelling at me for buying more bowls. I don’t know what it is about them, but I have a sort of subconscious attraction or obsession with bowls. I think they’re cute. We have entirely too many in our house because of me. Oops?

I’ve spent the last two and a half hours (I totally did Zumba inbetween episodes)  indulging myself in Felicity. Started watching season 4 finally! At the end of episode one, FELICITY AND NOEL FINALLY HAD SEX. I was like =O FUCKING FINALLY! I THOUGHT THAT WAS NEVER GONNA HAPPEN. But of course, now she’s facing the repercussions because she was still with Ben when she decided it would be a good idea to have carnal knowledge of Noel’s willy. Anyway, SPOILER ALERT DON’T READ FURTHER IF YOU DON’T WANNA KNOW MORE, but after episode two, I read the descriptions for the remaining episodes and found out Elena dies in a car crash. WHAT THE FUCK. I mean, I ruined the whole series for myself by finding out what happens in the very last episode when I read descriptions back in season 1, but damn J.J. Abrams and Matt Reeves, way to kill off err’body!

Hypothetically Tap That Ass.

You know how sometimes you have an instructor who you would totally bang if it was okay? I know this is common because I’ve had plenty of conversations with people about it before, so don’t look at your computer screen so disapprovingly cause you’re probably one of them anyway. Well, there may or may not be one or two in my life that I’d definitely say yes to.

I’ll start off with the newest one. I thought he was a student today when I met him because of the was he was dressed and how young he looks. But apparently he’s a teacher. And wow, what a hot tamale of a teacher he is. And a good conversationalist. And a good dresser. And quite nice in general. I thoroughly enjoyed our interaction. And yes, I would hypothetically tap that ass.

Then there’s the one I’ve had a many month long crush on. We just click. It’s easy to talk with him about anything because he’s so knowledgeable and I really enjoy that in a person. Not having conversational bumps is a great thing. Also, he’s pretty good looking, although his personality acts as a booster shot.

The good thing about both of these guys is that I will never have them as instructors because they do not teach in my major. So for any of you reading this out there, you can quit peeing your pants and biting your nails cause the reality of ever getting anything on is probably never going to come to fruition. But that doesn’t mean a girl can’t hold a fantasy!