The Wait.

It’s almost as if our generation is as screwed up as everyone says we are.

If a bloke fails to attempt to get into our knickers on the first or second date, we worry that we’re not attractive. Equally, if a girl doesn’t try and unzip your Levi’s early doors, she’s not keen. I’m wondering where along the line we disregarded the third date rule and adopted a far more “ready” approach?

For me, I think university had something to do with it. Had I resided in London to study English for three years, I probably would’ve lived at home. With this in mind, there would have been far fewer opportunities to bring people home after nights out, but also, my Catholic extraction would have been less likely uprooted by alcohol and debauchery. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been that religious. I did however undertake a purely Catholic education, leading me to think of sex as something of a sin until sixth form. Even then I thought I would only ever sleep with my boyfriend of the time, get married and give birth to would-be-angels.

But on arriving in Exeter, after an interesting year out, I realised that not everyone felt the same. People here had sex. WITH PEOPLE THEY DIDN’T KNOW. However bewildered and excited by this however, I still didn’t really partake in this past-time, and managed to hold down a relationship for the best part of three years. But I looked up to these people! I wanted to be more like them. Now, on returning to the homeland, I’m not so sure- it’s almost as if people trust the Mayan predictions, but instead of gathering rations and loved ones, we’re reaching for the Durex. Boots; watch your back.

Despite this, I can’t blame everyone for this outlet. In a time of uncertainty, a lack of permanent jobs for graduates and a hell of a lot of rain, we’re all living in limbo, where feelings rarely, if ever, come to the fore. We’re searching for a different sort of buzz from success. This means that more of us are heading out, doing lots of drugs that will probably cripple us in later life, downing gin and bonking because there’s nothing else to do. It’s almost like we’re bored and living in Hull in 1962.

But what is it actually doing for everyone?

With the increase of people logging into these ghastly dating sites, we’re clearly quite keen to settle down. But how often do you hear of people striking up a relationship with someone these days? Having casual sex is far more “normal”. Imagine for example sleeping with someone for the first time (even if you really like them), sober. I bet the thought of that makes around 70% of you wince. There’s Dutch courage and then there’s that.

What I’m trying to say is, is that waiting is underrated. And there’s something to be said for not being so easy. For example, when a male friend was questioned why he wouldn’t have sex with the girl he was getting with, he replied, “because I actually think I might like her”.

I’m not saying lock up your pants and throw away the key, but if you’re more than simply attracted to a person, then sex can still really mean something. Even in 2012.

So whatever the reason for doing it, I can almost guarantee that waiting will turn up the heat…

But as with most things, I guess only time will tell.

 

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The Blowjob.

Most people with half a brain remember to wrap it up during sex. But it doesn’t even cross these intelligent minds to put something on the end of it before going down on their partner, which to most people, seems very normal. In fact, many would find it strange to put something between them and their saucy snack. It would be like eating a lolly with the wrapper on. Tasteless and a little bit silly.

However, the joke’s on them.

I’ve been hearing so much about this new-found HPV virus (which commonly converts into cervical and throat cancer) that I really do think that it’s worth thirty seconds of your time. Although the bug isn’t solely transferred via oral sex, it can add to the risk of being HPV-positive. In fact, a shocking statistic shows that men and women who reported having six or more oral-sex partners during their lifetime had a nearly ninefold increased risk of developing cancer of the tonsils or at the base of the tongue. Mental isn’t it?

Most people think of oral sex as the safer alternative to having full on hanky panky. But it’s most definitely, not. Many would even rather delve down under purely to preserve their virginity. But aren’t we taking the subject of fellatio a little too lightly? In fact aren’t we taking the subject of putting anything into our mouths a little too lightly these days? Willies, cancer sticks, pills, alcohol… cheeseburgers?

If at all possible, I think it’s time people starting thinking a little more about the subject of oral sex. Luckily for us, it’s become apparent that between the increasing awarness of this ghastly virus and the British public being distracted from Tulisa’s shame by her bad tekkers in that video, oral sex has never been so prevalent. But the safety behind it isn’t.

So now that the weekend’s here, you’ll probably desire to (for want of a better phrase) get down on it. But if you do decide to crack on, play safe.

Have a good one.

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The Cinema.

Not being able to concentrate for longer than an episode of Eastenders means that the cinema is most certainly not my first choice of date location. But it isn’t solely down to my short attention span that I opt for sushi over screenplay. The cinema is a scary place. A place of awkward shuffles and popcorn crunching. A realm of uncertainty and self-doubt. And sometimes I think it’s best to go it alone.

Take my first ever date for example. It was indeed, a trip to the cinema. I was thirteen; ridiculously self-conscious and for some reason finding it appropriate to rock denim on denim (including a fetching cap which read “babe” in pink). It was a time when I thought the film wasn’t the main attraction and the cinema was a magical place. Instead, this disastrous “double date” showed me just how bad it could be. My best friend and her boyfriend snogged the whole way through, whilst me and some boy sat on either side, unsure of where to look. This is not how I thought cinema dates were supposed to go. I thought I was supposed to sit next to my date? Maybe even hold hands? Instead, I actually watched the film.

Over the next few years came a flurry of lateness, munching, lost tickets, mice ridden theatres, popcorn throwing, bust ups and tears so I took a little sabbatical from movie dates until I left school and a guy insisted on taking me back to that dark place. He bought Nachos and he eats like a rhino. Enough said.

I thought my movie days were over until I went on a sort of date with a sort of friend who perched his hand comfortably on my knee. This all felt pretty ideal until I realised my leg was basically numb from sitting in the same position for about forty-five minutes. I remained in this position until I thought I would never walk again and then made an excuse about getting some water. As I stood up, I realized that in actual fact, I couldn’t walk. So with every step I took, I stumbled. The whole way down the stairs.  And to make matters worse, we haven’t mentioned it since. Until now, obviously.

So although it’s taken me around ten years, what I’ve realised, much like sitting on the loo, is that the cinema seat is made for one person, popcorn is the poorest choice of silent snack and lateness is a buzz killer to those who enjoy watching the trailers. But a picture perfect date is boring and sometimes it’s worth taking that risk.

Anything can happen in those 90 minutes, and most of the action happens in your seat, so hold on tight and enjoy the ride.

Seatbelt anyone?

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