hell for a single woman

Recently, I found myself attending a wedding and not just any wedding but my best friends wedding. Weddings: the pitfall for all single women. Attending an event where the fact that you are single while your friend has found what you hope to be is eternal love, or at least eternal enough that she’ll end up with the vacation house, the dog and the jag before calling it quits, only reminds you of one thing: you definitely won’t be getting the vacation house or the jag anytime soon. Because you don’t even have a potential guy lined up to date let alone marry. Infact, you even had to bring your best friend to the wedding for lack of a real date. So unless your boss suddenly decides to give you an overly inflated, but well-deserved in your opinion, raise you won’t be saying “I do” to that new Jag anytime soon. So while you are incredibly happy for your friend, in an “I hope she chokes on that thousand dollar cake of hers” sort of way, you find yourself becoming and more miserable with every fluke of champagne you toss back. The situation only worsened still by the fact that your date, aka your male best friend who always gets dragged along, is being hit on, non-too-subtly, by the girl whom you and all the other bridesmaids loathe. That and the fact that there are absolutely no available men for you to hit on. Not even ones where you would pull a “coyote ugly” in the morning just to make yourself feel a tinsy bit better. Somehow Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson get to crash weddings and sleep with numerous women and end up with the girl by the end of the movie, yet here I am in a dress that set me back $200, which I sure as hell will never wear again, without even the remotest chance of meeting Mr. Right let alone Mr. Right-now. Not only am I surrounded by my now married best friend, but also by a sea of other friends who are all in happily content relationships. I’m starting to think, I need some new friends. Friends who are single and can wallow in misery by my side. Ones who do not have to call their “significant” other to let them know we got out of the movie late or that they are making a pitstop at a bathroom. And more importantly, ones who will drink all their sorrows away with me at the latest downtown hotspot. If gagging at the ceremony and having to put up with the first half of the reception, where we saw a slideshow of the bride and groom growing up and then meeting one another, wasn’t enough torture, it only gets better. The bouquet toss. Having a beautiful, but deadly, floral arrangement hurled at my head is not my idea of fun. “What’s the point,” I think as I make my way onto the dance floor, keeping myself distanced from the pack of foaming women awaiting the signal for them to release their claws. It’s like looking at a pack of starved wild cats as a single piece of food is about to be tossed into the cage. You can see the greed and hunger in their eyes. Only one thing separates me from them, my unwilling desire to have any part in this. Thanks but I think I’ll starve. I already have to declare my singledom to everyone in the room simply by being up there, I am certainly not about to sink any lower. Shouldn’t there be some kind of rule against this. Against a single woman with no potential husband, no boyfriend, hell not even a potential boyfriend at that, from partaking in this event. The whole point of the bouquet toss tradition is for the catcher to be the next to wed, or at least that’s how the saying goes. Well that definitely isn’t going to be me; so why take the chance of depriving someone else of happiness. This supposedly originated from the bridge chucking the bouquet at the drunken men who were attempting to take her garter off before the groom could get to it. Personally, I believe this little tradition was concocted up by bored married women who wanted to see their single girlfriends in even more misery. Apparently simply receiving the invitation stating “Leslie and guest,” and having your guest be your male best friend isn’t enough punishment. And did I mention, I was the only single person in the wedding party and my date got hit on the entire night by some tramp. Unfortunately we had no crashers at this wedding. Then the toss. The claws are out. Only the most deceiving can be the victor. Standing on the sidelines, alcoholic beverage in hand, I watch them trample over one another until one finally emerges as the clean champion. Luckily after this awful display I was finally allowed to return to sufficiently drowning my sorrows and waiting for the night to end. So I could go up to my empty hotel room, raid the mini-bar and watch a depressing romantic comedy. And this was only my first wedding invite. So it begins, I already have another one scheduled in the not too distant future. Damn.

the life of a singleton

i have often been asked on here, "why are you single?" first of all, i HATE that question. why does being single have such a negative connotation. has anyone ever thought about all the advantages of being single or are we all so brainwashed that we can only think of ourselves as being whole or happy when we are with someone else, even if that person isn't the right one for us or, worse, if we are in some type of abusive relationship. guys ask me this question making it seem like i NEED to be with someone. why do we make being single sound like some deadly disease? why don't we ever ask, "why are you in a relationship?" i think that question would be far harder to answer, at least truthfully. frankly, i haven't had anyone banging down my door lately. it's funny, everyone asks me this question yet there really aren't that many offers coming in which is a bit confusing. apparently guys make it seem like i am a catch since they ask that question yet nothing ever happens as a result. why is it that we look at our value as being directly proportionate to whether or not we are currently in a relationship? why can't we be complete alone? as the saying goes, "no man is an island," but i do believe man can be self-sustaining and whole without relying on someone else to make him happy. why do we look to others to make our lives seem meaningful? why don't we just dig deeper within ourselves and find true happiness with who we are rather than who we are with. we define ourselves, we are not defined by our "significant" other. let the chips fall where they may because until you can make yourself happy, no one else can do it for you. there's NOTHING wrong with being single. there is however, something wrong with being in a meaningless relationship just for the sake of feeling complete.
ultimately, i have come to the conclusion that guys don't actually want girls who are intelligent, sophisticated, funny, talented, ambitious, etc what they want is an arm piece or a trophy girl. essentially they want barbie. not someone with substance, although they claim that they do. what they really want is simply a hot girl. if they truly wanted someone with substance there would be a line outside my door.
i'm not saying women don't have their vices when choosing men; however, i do believe they look for more sensible qualities.

the ethical slut

the ethical slut

In this day in age, when everyone seems to be cheating on everyone else and the amount of sexual partners one has seems to be an ever increasing number, can we reprogram our inbred values and core of ethics to incorporate a new set of ideologies?

I began reading a new book today titled The Ethical Slut by Dossie Easton and Catherine A. Liszt. The opening chapter of the book discusses the new definition they would like to introduce on the term "slut." We're all aware of the present offensive definition of the term used to define women who are "voracious, indiscriminate, and shameful." Interestingly enough, the analogous word "stud" means quite the opposite. A stud describes a highly sexual man who recieves approval and envy from his sexual conquests. So how is it that men are esteemed for many sexual conquests when women are berated and demeaned by the exact same thing?

The book proposes we redefine the term "slut" to mean: "a person of any gender who has the courage to lead life according to the radical proposition that sex is nice and pleasure is good for you." A slut in this instance may choose to have sex with themself or with multiple people and not be worsened by it because they believe sex and sexual love are fundamental forces for good. It is a place for communal living with many lovers who are all aware of the situation. No lying, no cheating, no unfaithfulness because there's no commitment. A deep understanding and appreciation of the goodness that can originate from a sexual bond where new lovers are welcomed as additions to the community instead of as competition.

Can human nature truly allow this type of society to exist peacefully? Can we redefine not only our definitions but ourselves to go against everything we were taught to accept this evolving lifestyle? We're already halfway there. We are having more sexual partners but still feeling the guilt and remorse from our upbringing. How do you rearrange your ethical center when everything you've been taught goes against it? Growing up we were taught to value sex as more than just pleasure.

I had a discussion with my mother this past Saturday with regards to threesomes. For her, she can not understand how you can share yourself with two people at the same time because sex to her is still an intimate bonding that does not occur outside of a relationship. Not just any type of relationship but the particular relationship we have had ingrained in us since our first waking breath. From the moment we are born, we are taught that sex is something to be shared between two people who love each other a great deal. But what is wrong with sex for sex's sake? I'm sure for the majority of us, our upbringing and cultural standards significantly conflict with our sexual desires.

So if there were no sexually transmitted diseases to worry about or unwanted pregnancies, if all sex was consentual and pleasurable, how would you feel about sex? Would you still feel shame, remorse, regret or guilt or would you simply enjoy it for what it is? Is it possible to throw out all our ingrained notions to simply have guilt-free, positive and pleasurable sex?