Just blogging

Don’t you wanna follow me back?

I guess it’s impossible to run out of topics when you write about online dating, for the better and the worse.

One thing I always found very amusing was the moment when you exchange socials or even a number. When I gave out my number, most of the time I’d be like “Please no dick pic, please no dick pic.” Btw, I don’t understand why guys would send them in the first place. Why not start with other body parts instead? If a pic of your dick is all you have to offer, then I’m just not interested. Or is the dick pic the result of a long time of reflection, where the guy asks himself: What do I have in common with a Greek god? (If you didn’t get that joke, just google Greek god statue and have a look at their penises.)

So, I’m usually not giving out my number very easily. Instead, I like to go with my instagram account. Which is perfect actually, because that way, the dude sees that there’s less of a chance that I’m a 50 yo dude and because that even without adding each other, you can text.

But sometimes I get the feeling that some people aren’t totally easygoing when it comes to staying in touch with someone via instagram. And funnily, the ones who only have like a handful of followers seem to be the thirstiest and the most eager to gain more followers. So what usually happens is that they follow me – which I never asked them to do, I just gave them my handle so that they can stalk me as much as they like, but that doesn’t mean I’m engaging. It’s like doing the starfish in bed, just that it’s on social media. And then, I can honestly just wait for the question: “Don’t you wanna follow me back?” …. And me like:

Seriously, why would you even ask that question? It’s like asking: “But why haven’t you said anything about my new haircut?” Well, it’s ugly af, I’m not to look at that more often than I need to. So sorry, not sorry, I’m not going to follow your shitty insta account. Otherwise, I would have hit that button already. But I didn’t, so just draw your conlusions from that.

But keep sending me nice messages, please.

Standard
Just blogging

What would you do if you died tomorrow?

I know, that’s such a corny question. So corny that it’s close to having a tattoo that says Carpe Diem. So corny that Nicholas Sparks would answer with a poop emoji if you texted him that question. And yet, that question popped into my head yesterday. (Well I guess I have a predisposition for corny stuff, I do love romcoms after all.)

Before I’m getting into details, it’s maybe a good idea to give you some background information first. So for a few weeks know, I’m noticing once again that I probably can’t eat all types of food. I’m sparing you the details, but I think it’s pretty safe to say that my intestins are not reacting well to wheat and/or gluten. And maybe some other stuff, too, since it’s been almost impossible for me to eat anything without some sort of complications. Of course, I’ve already seen a doctor and am currently doing all the exams to know what exactly is causing problems, but so far, there hasn’t been anything conclusive. But I was asked if we there were cases of cancer in my family. My doctor has such great humor.

Now I don’t think that I have cancer or anything severe, but I still asked myself: If that were the case and if I died tomorrow, would I be satisfied with my life so far? Would there be anything I regret? And even though I don’t have any regrets, my answer to the first question would be “It was ok.” Just that, nothing more, nothing less.

Have you heard of the marshmallow experiment? Where kids receive one marshmallow and if they manage to wait for a certain amount of time without eating that marshmallow, they receive another one? The marshmallow experiment supposedly shows who’s going to be successful in life (people who can make sacrifices for now to have a better result later) and who isn’t. I alsways thought I would be part of the latter. Though I would have done pretty well on the marshmallow experiment as I find marshmallows disgusting. But as for everything else, I find it incredibly hard and unnecessary to make sacrifices. My mom would say that’s because of my astrological sign, but I just think, if I can have something right now, why wait? However, I’ve tried to make some responsible choices, and since there’s no one else but me who’s paying for my fancies, holding back on certain things has become rather easy.

I’ve postponed travels because I thought it would be smarter to wait and really plan everything instead of just going somewhere, I’ve partly sacrificed my social life because I want to be successful in my work (and ultimatively earn a shitload of money of course). However, when thinking of the very abstract idea of dying tomorrow, these decisions, as smart as they may be in the moment, don’t seem smart at all. On the contrary.

If I was on my deathbed tomorrow, I would definitely be sad about not having spent enough time with my friends and not having travelled to all the places I wanted to. Also, it would also suck to acknowledge that I haven’t found a person to travel with, yet. I mean it’s awesome to be independent and stuff, but if it means doing stuff alone most of the time, it’s not always that great.

So what’s my verdict from this thought experiment? I sure don’t want to reverse my entire lifestyle. My work and professional success will always be very important to me as will be my independence. So to find a balance between me being somewhat of a workaholic, I will also focus on keeping my friendships strong and building new relationships as well. And I’m also planning my next vacation.

PS: Leave a comment if you recognize the featured image 🙂

Standard
Dating

Sexy talk

Quite recently, I had a conversation with a friend about what makes good sex. And the thing we agreed on – and which is also common knowledge tbh – was that communication is key. So far, so good. But how do you get there?

I couldn’t count the numbers of articles I’ve read on that subject. I mean I’ve been reading women’s magazines for more than a decade now. And though back then, some of them passed on rather outdated views (which they of course later rectified once people reme,bered feminism), there was one general advice: Just be open about what you want and what you don’t. And in theory, that’s great advice. But what do you do if you just have no clue how to address the subject at all? Or if you only know what you don’t like? I guess no one would be happy about hearing “No, not like that.” “Not like that either.” “Stop, that’s too…” and “Well, I’m sore now.”

Also, not all people are cool and open-minded, and not everyone has had the luxury of having people appreciate when you tell them what you like/dislike or even how you feel – not even if it’s in both of your interest. I was actually surprised how much shame people can feel about what turns them on: they’re afraid of being seen as perverts or gay or simply weirdos. (Somehow I thought only women have this problem of being super self-conscious, sometimes. Which is BS of course.) Also, I have a real question here: Since most of our sexual desires somewhat stem from childhood, aren’t we all weirdos? I mean what makes one thing weird and not another?

Anyway, when we talk about sex, I think that most of us believe that unless if it’s a random hookup, it should feel special and intimate. And as clichĂ© as it sounds, maybe sex should be something you only have with a very special someone. But then again I’m sure everyone likes to think of themselves as special – though that doesn’t mean that they’re special for you. You might just find them meeehhh, and that’s ok, too.

However, it doesn’t matter if it’s just a hookup or something more serious, I always thought that saying what you want in bed can be a little daunting. Especially when it’s more serious. (If you already know that you’re never going to see that person again, who cares?) But tbh, I find it just as daunting even if I already know it’s nothing serious and nothing that’ll last. Have you ever found in the situation where you wonder “Is pulling hair ok?”, “How rough or gentle should I be?”, Is it ok if I don’t engage in oral sex immediately?” without really daring to ask a single one of these questions? Or am I the only neurotic person here?

We only learn about sex in theory. And though everything else would be super weird (hello ancient Greece), the fact that we don’t get any practice before actually practizing it is very annoying. There’s no chance to learn how it’s done but try and error. How frustrating is that? Especially since everything you thought you knew can change completely with a different partner. Besides, all of that kinda means you also have to know what you like yourself.

Some of the articles I read gave the advice to just “show your partner” what gets you going and just masturbate in front of them. In theory, that’s no bad advice. But in reality, how many people find it creepy if you watch them sleep? So what makes watching someone masturbate any better? Besides, I would feel like something private is being turned into a show where I need to perform. And guess what, it would do absolutely nothing for me. Instead, I’d think “Can he please cum from watching me so that I can be done with this?”

Btw, while I’m writing all this, well aware that I sound like the prudest prude who hates sex, I’m actually wondering how it’s possible that my subconscious seems to focus on the guy getting off. I mean with feminism being trending, there’s also a bunch of media which state that society focusses on the desires of hetero men / male ejaculation. And I never thought that I would fall into this pattern, but apparently I do. Or otherwise I wouldn’t have this “let’s get this over with”-mentality.

Though one important point is that I’m really tired of explaining things to people. Until recently, I worked as a tutor. The last thing I wanna do after finishing work is explaining to someone how to do stuff.

So, as a solution to all this, I guess I’ll just do some name dropping and mention Kenneth Play to everyone I’m getting involved with. (As for finding out about the guys preferences, their shyness never really lastet longer than the two minutes of saying “I don’t know, maybe you’ll find that weird/gay/perverse..”) And I will continue to listen to The Prude and the Pornstar and This is Why You’re Single.

Standard
Just blogging

“Being drunk adds value to everything else in life.”

That is by far my most favorite quote from KUWTK! You cannot imagine how much I love KhloĂ© for saying that. As soon as I heard it, I decided: “That’s going to be my motto.” Though tbh, it’s already been my motto, I just never put it in these words.

Funnily, I started drinking kinda late. When I was 17, it was a very good year… No, I was 18, actually. But since I didn’t do the whole take shots-drink-alcopops-and-use-funnels-thing (except for 1,2 occasions), I actually learned how to appreciate wine. Especially because I lived in France during that time.

Not that we don’t appreciate drinking in Germany, we mainly just use less sophisticated beverages. Think about it: Drinking beer at 10 AM is trashy AF. But having mimosas for breakfast is perfectly acceptable. Same goes for wine vs beer at noon.

Besides learning how to appreciate wine, I also noticed that it makes everyone’s company so much more enjoyable. Therefore, I wasn’t surprised when a former boyfriend told me that his family would pretty much empty an entire cellar during one family meeting. And I could totally relate – my family does exactly the same. But it’s not only your family that gets nicer with a few more glasses. I always find myself in way more interesting conversations or situations. After all, alcohol is a social lubricant, why else would they offer it en masse on The Bachelor? Though maybe I should add that I’m very friendly when drunk, I don’t get aggressive, unless there’s a chair I can fight over. (There was one funny incident in a bar. A good friend and I were sitting at a table with 3 chairs and since the bar was still empty at that time, I just put my bag on the third chair. One bottle of wine later, some dude came over and just wanted to grab the chair without asking. So I made this huge fight out of it and ended up yelling at him. I also think my friend was terrified.)

And I rarely get sad, either. On the contrary, I’m usually a little funnier and even wittier, or maybe it just seems like it because my senses are dulled, but I think that I’m at least a little more entertaining in one way or another. I also think that wine makes me more creative. It shuts up the inner critic. That’s why I barely ever write without a glass or two. (Or three, or four, or five…) Also, even though I would never consider me a writer, I’d love to be one. And the great ones, Ernest Hemingway, Edgar Allan Poe, Truman Capote, Hunter S. Thompson weren’t known for their healthy lifestyle and their addiction to juice cleanses. Well, except grape juice.

And aren’t the crazy things you think, feel, say, do while being drunk what makes a great story?

Standard