Archive for July, 2010
Saturday statement: the brazen black bra
There are 2 kinds of ladies out there – the ones who enjoy flaunting a sexy black bra under her white shirt and the ones who wouldn’t dream of it. Sure, this may look like a “yeah, so what’s your point?” distinction, but my belief is that such a dichotomy exists and says a lot about both camps of women in terms of one’s sexuality and how she uses (or doesn’t use) her feminine wiles to navigate this crazy destination that is life.
I happen to be one of those girls who deigns to let a little black lacy number peek through my ‘beater now and then. Why? Because I find the powerful message behind it to be a a depiction of one’s uninhibited grip on her sexuality and femininity.
Are the ladies who opt out and go for the neutral-colored bra under all things blanca boring old prudes? Not necessarily. Though I would love to know their religious creed and political party. I wonder what style statement makes THEM feel empowered, feminine and sexy?…
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Loins yearnin’ on the road? There’s not an app for that.
I love traveling. And I love my iPhone. In almost every situation, the two go so well together– like chocolate and banana, or handcuffs and bedposts.
So naturally, I’ve ditched the laptop when going on trips. Why, with the built-in Wifi and all the amazing apps, I will never miss a Facebook “like” or NPR’s Fresh Air podcast even for a day. Not to mention the added bonus of Angry Birds, especially at the airport.
It’s amazing, but there’s just one flaw. And that’s porn.
I’ve been on the road for the past three weeks, blazing through Europe from Istanbul to London (still two more destinations to go).
Now porn is one of those things you don’t want to check out at the airport steel computer station, or at the shared computer at a hostel, or your couch-providing friend’s laptop. Imagine how awkward!
So you are pretty much stuck with the iPhone.
Besides dealing with all the Flash limitations and navigation and maneuver issues, the wireless mobile content also proves to suck a big…
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Types of dysfunctional daters: the Pet Proxy
Who they are: single people who are preoccupied with their pet to the point of obsession, much to the annoyance of everyone around them who doesn’t share their four-legged (over)enthusiasm.
Identifying traits: cat/dog/horse fur on clothes and hair; talks about their pet constantly and gets noticeably jittery when conversation veers away from it; discusses their pet’s stools openly.
Why they’re single: like the baby ducks who will follow a human in lieu of a feathered mother, the Pet Proxy projects their innate need for human companionship onto their animal. This puts them in a weird spot. One the one hand they don’t really feel the “need” to be with someone; on the other, they can’t have sexual relations or any other kind of normal communication with their pet, which leaves them vaguely dissatisfied, but often not enough to make them do something about it.
Advantages: intimacy without the baggage (except for the the bags you pick up the dog shit with); gives you a living thing to care for and worry about, thereby…
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Grading the Vows: Conrad, Ferrell
We’re in the middle of wedding season, and with the NY Times Vows section busting at seams with newlyweds, LITD enlisted friend and substitute teacher Denny DelVecchio of Your New Bad Habit to help grade a few. As we know, sub teachers are always lenient to bad students, and Denny is no exception – enjoy it while you can, miscreants. – .ed
Who’s that knocking on Denny’s door at the unholy hour of 11:45 am?
Oh, Denny Dance almost forgot that he owed Love in the Dumps a column this week. Fine. Let me slip into something a little less snug and fishnetty and I’ll get right to it.
There, that’s better.
As a man who once foolishly took a shallow but bitter pull from matrimony’s joyless decanter , I feel uniquely qualified to serve as judge, jury and sexecutioner when it comes to the oft-doomed nuptials of others.
And this week’s installment has a little bit of everything. So slip into the wedding dress your mother…
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Saturday morning funnies: the 1989 Chrystal Light aerobics championship
Try to contain yourself ladies. Note: the song is on 45 rpm. Thanks to LITD VJ Colleen Crumbcake for this gem.
A watched pot eventually boils
You just know it’s gonna end. It’s just got to. Soon. And when it does you’ll be there. You might be a rebound, but Dennis Rodman made a pretty good career pulling 8 of those down a game. Perservere, friend. Persevere.
Baseball terms applied to dating and relationships
Baseball season is in full swing (har har), and even if you don’t like it you can’t help but appreciate our pastime’s terms and sayings. More than any other sport, baseball has such a fun, creative way of putting complicated plays and situations into words. We thought it would be a helpful exercise to apply these terms to another complex, unpredictable facet of life – dating and relationships. A start to the list follows with links that help show term in baseball action. I’m sure we’re missing quite a few; just add ‘em to the comments and soon we’ll have an index to be reckoned with. Play ball!
1. Fielder’s choice - that rare, rare situation in which you can choose between multiple suitors of decent quality. Of course, 99% of the time you end up dropping the ball anyway, resulting in getting charged with an….
2. Error - a blatant mistake that often tips the scales out of your favor, or is a factor in your self-destructive relationship patterns. …
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Are you loving like a Darma or a Greg?
There is an important lesson to be learned from Darma & Greg. If you’re not familiar with the late 90’s TV show, or need a refresher course, the half-hour sitcom was about the marriage of a liberal, yoga-practicing, health-nut hippie (Darma) and a conservative, practical, follow-the-rules lawyer (Greg). Of course drama ensues when Darma and Greg’s different approaches to illness, home decorating, and camping conflict – Darma’s cure for a cold involves herbs and old world mysticism while Greg employs Sudafed and a trained healthcare professional.
All my life, I’ve dated Gregs (cranky intellectuals who need a laugh and my impulsive behavior as a sidekick on the dirt road to F-U-N) – until last year, when I dated Ben.
Ben was living on his own planet, where people only cared about organic vegetable gardening and hiking with friends, where wine flowed like water, where traveling was church and where girlfriends were a burden. There were no rules in Ben’s world and I eagerly stepped in, ready for vacation.
But being around a through and through…
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Why it’s not a good idea to use writing as a pick-up gimmick
I am not a writer, but I often play one in bars. That is to say, sometimes I bring my notebook to drinking establishments and “write” in the hopes of generating interest from a fellow patron (hopefully female), who might inquire into the content of my scribbles.
Scribbles is the key word here – I have practiced the art of illegible chicken scratch lest they see the empty words and discover my fraudulent scheme. Ambiguity is mystery, and that’s what I’m going for. This works better in Los Angeles than in most other cities, because the only writers there are movie writers, and are therefore glamorous and rich as apposed to the lonely, broke, and socially awkward “print” set that resides largely in New York and other depressing cities like Vancouver.
So whenever I’m in L.A. I always bring a notebook fresh stocked with hand crafted scribble and make my way to the singles bar. It’s a crude analogy, but the practice is not unlike fishing.
Yet my most recent trip was a troubling…
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