Day 9: Vibrators and Vanity Couplings

"Save Me Some Sand, Jamaica" is today's ensemble. As the weather gets colder and the job hunt fiercer, my thoughts turn to 80-degree days where my only responsibility is to keep my tan even. I'll take another mojito, please.

I think the SATC writers came up with the title of the episode, "The Turtle and the Hare," before actually figuring it out. This is the only rational explanation for this installment, which casually throws together two completely different issues--vibrators and settling for mates we don't love. After ten minutes of being mildly confused about how these two things are even loosely related (and I had already seen it--imagine Hank), I was laughing so hard at the dialogue that I no longer cared.

The Rabbit--a high-tech pleasure device to which "the Hare" in the title refers--takes center stage. Miranda is hooked and encourages the women to buy this marvel of sexual exploration. Charlotte, fearful of the toy until she sees that it's pink, gets hooked until her friends stage an intervention that forces her back into the dating world. As usual, Carrie doesn't have much interest and remains a skeptical bystander, aloofly gathering info for her column. Samantha has no need for a toy when she has the real thing--and lots of it.

I don't have much to say about vibrators. Boring, I know. I've never used one, but I can see why women do. If I were single, I'd definitely buy one. Maybe I still will one day. They could be quite fun even within a relationship. But I'm not at the point of needing one yet. Nuff said. Be jealous if you must.

Now, the issue of settling. We've probably all been in unions where it seems our mate loves us more than we love him. Often it's the other way around. In the dating quest to find equality in love, there's a lot of teeter-tottering that goes on. Somebody always has the higher ground. Even within long-term, vibrant relationships, equal love between partners at all times seems like a tall order. Besides, how can there ever be an exact equality of something that can't be measured?

That said, when things are really uneven, you feel it. I was once in a relationship with a man who seemed to adore me. We'll call him Travis. Travis addressed me as "La mia princepessa" (he was learning Italian and very proud of it) and travelled to China with me on my independent study just so I wouldn't be alone. For whatever reason, I was always lukewarm and couldn't figure myself out. We had a lot of similar interests and studied the same thing at school. He was funny, smart, and kind of cute. But I just wasn't in love with him. In fact, when he put his hand on my leg, I always had to suppress my impulse to cringe.

When I expressed my doubts to my mother, she suggested I marry him and quit analyzing everything so much. I thought maybe she was right, so I kept dating him. After two and a half years, he wanted to ask me to marry him. I kept telling him to wait. I wasn't ready. That Christmas with my family, he pulled out a jewelry box in the middle of unwrapping presents. Everyone got quiet. Dad had just opened an oxygen machine, and, in a desperate grab for humor, I asked if I could borrow it. I knew I couldn't say yes. What the hell was I going to do? In the end, it was just a pair of earrings, and my heart resumed its normal pace.

That summer I went to visit my sister in Peru and cheated on Travis with a local artist. I decided to move to South America to be with him. It was terrible for Travis. While I felt angry at myself for hurting him, I knew that my biggest mistake was that I didn't break up with him sooner. I should have trusted myself and my doubts. The artist and I didn't work out (in a fair dose of karma, he broke up with me in an equally painful manner), but I'm thankful now for what happened. I needed to learn a lesson about myself and don't know that I could have learned it any other way. The lesson was simple: I needed to feel butterflies for someone for it to last.

I realize I'm not everyone. In some relationships, imbalance seems to work. Some people don't mind being the one who "loves more," and it's awful hard for the adored one to give up being adored. One woman in the episode says to Carrie, "Always marry a man who loves you more than you love him." Later, a startled Carry watches as Samantha turns to an investment banker with bad breath (nickname: "The Turtle"...ah, at last the title becomes clear) to satisfy her need to feel loved. Carrie herself contemplates an open marriage to Stanford, her best gay friend, not out of love but so they can share his inheritance. Things are all messed up, and it's all because of a vibrator. No wait, it's because of marrying for money.... No, unrequited love. No, well, anyway, they're messed up.

Carrie finally decides that she wants kids, so marrying the gay guy won't work. Besides, she loves Big. But is it reciprocated? That's her big worry. I guess the best we all can do is be responsible for ourselves. We can find someone we love and hope they love us back--just as much, a little less sometimes, a little more at others. Whatever as long as there's love.

I hope you'll be back. I will.

Day 8: Threesomes

This is an exercise I like to call "An outfit a day keeps the blues away." Here's my first ensemble; we'll call it "Night at Bolero," because that's obviously so much more interesting than "Night at the Opera." All of the pieces are pulled from a mix of websites--modcloth.com (Thanks, B!), Aldo, Neiman Marcus, Victoria's Secret, etc., and that's just the beginning. What's more, nothing--except for a pair of shoes here and there--is over $200. When putting things together, I imagine I am Cher on Clueless and have a virtual closet at my fingertips. Of course, these clothes don't correspond to real pieces in my closet. Nevermind. It's almost just as fun this way. Let the dreaming begin. Now threesomes....

"How well do we ever know the people we sleep with?" says Charlotte.

I like this episode. It deals with the issue of human fantasies--well humanity, period--very honestly. All of the women have different takes on the threesome. Samantha is, of course, highly experienced. Carrie's never had time to consider it amidst her relationship struggles. She can't even stand the thought of Big's exes, much less someone else in their bed. Charlotte doesn't think blow jobs are proper, but she's suddenly willing to consider a threesome to please her new boyfriend. As for Miranda, she just wants the sexual validation of being attractive enough to be asked to participate in one.

I think it's safe to say that threesomes are one of the most common human fantasies. In some parts of the world, sharing partners, adding a guest, and other sexual combinations are quite normal activities. For example, there are over 20 clubs for swingers in Montreal, Canada. About every other guy whom I've dated has either had a threesome or fantasized about it. So what's the allure?

Proponents have their theories, and so does SATC. It adds spice to a relationship. It's a fantasy, and it's healthy to explore fantasies to keep them from growing into full-blown sexual obsessions. Heck, even Socrates would contribute some argument in favor of a threesome every now and then, just as long as Eros wasn't allowed to take over the person's life. As for the show, Samantha, not inhibited by morality nor sentimentality (at least that's what she would have us believe), just does it for fun.

But are these arguments enough? Is there an underlying draw toward a threesome that expresses some deeper, unhealthy psychological desire within us all? This is Carrie's central preoccupation. By the end of the episode, she decides that the threesome is actually what keeps two people from nurturing intimacy between themselves. It provides an 'out,' a way to keep from fully putting one's heart and mind into the relationship. As she says, "The real allure of the threesome? That's easy. It's intimacy that's the bitch."

I've never had a threesome, and I never will. I consider myself a mature sexual adult and very much okay with my sexuality, desires, and fantasies in all their complexity. And a threesome has always been on an internal list of sexual escapades I think would be interesting. But that's all. Interesting. For me, a threesome is on par with sky diving and eating cow testicles. Sure, I could do them given the right circumstances. They might even be exhilarating in the moment. However, that doesn't mean I think they're good ideas.

What's more, like Carrie, I've always been in relationships. One relationship at a time has always been enough of a mystery and responsibility. Maybe if I had been single for most of my life, a manage a trois would have come up. But I wasn't, and it didn't. See, if you're in a relationship, threesomes are only okay if you're fine with the consequences, because there are always consequences. That's the part the fantasy doesn't take into account. If there is a deep love between two partners, the consequences could be disastrous. If I love someone, why would I really want to take a chance on f-ing that up? I prefer to spend energy trying to get closer to my mate. Sometimes I wish life were longer just for that.

I knew a couple once that had an open marriage. Maybe that's different than a threesome, but it's still sharing your guy or gal. One day, I was talking (okay, gossiping) with my hairdresser about the couple's lifestyle. She immediately said, "It will never last." I asked why and said that it seemed to work for them quite nicely. She said that humans aren't meant to share partners and that something was bound to happen to make the couple drift apart. For example, one of the two would meet and fall in love with someone else. Not two months later, that very thing happened. The girl left her husband for another man, one with whom she just had a "better connection." Go figure. How can you have a good connection with your partner if you're actively working to destroy it or keep it weak?

I'm not saying being curious about threesomes is bad. In fact, I think it's completely normal. After all, human sexuality is a very powerful thing, and thank heavens for that. But we have a choice about where to direct that sexuality. For me at least, I want a threesome to be something that remains an oddity. I want to wake up each morning knowing that I'm doing what I can to further my knowledge of my partner, enjoying and appreciating him for everything he is.

I hope you'll be back. I will.

Day 7: Monogamy. Marriage. Misunderstandings.

When someone announces their engagement, I always have mixed feelings. Part of me wants to give the couple a bear hug, share in the craziness of wedding plans and nerves, and buy a bunch of kitchen stuff. And part of me wants to get the hell out of there. Good luck. Bon voyage. Hope you buck the trend of divorce.

There is something about a wedding that is very scary. I'm just going to say it. Maybe that way, it will seem less scary. I think it scares Bela too, because he just growled.

Let me clarify. Monogamy is great. It seems easy to be committed to one person at a time--even more so if you really love him. It's like Carry said: "Seeing another man would be like trying to fit another outfit into an already over-stuffed suitcase." Exactly, except I always find room for another outfit. I have never understood the folks who can date multiple people with equal levels of intimacy--cuddling and kissing, sharing dreams, etc. Conversely, if they don't feel much for the people, why are they seeing them at all?

Granted I've dove in way too fast with the wrong kind of guys without acknowledging that the alert level was sitting steadily at orange. There was a depressed Russian guy. After him, an alcoholic Peruvian artist. Most recently was a fellow with a chronic wandering eye, whom I thought it would be a good idea to re-date (bad idea, surprise). He somehow managed to give off just enough affection to keep me coming back for more. Believe you me, I did not go looking for these classic Prince Charmings; they just found me. But in each instance I gave it my all. My all or nothing, that's my motto. It's gotten me into a lot of trouble, but it's also gotten me Hank.

But even with my two-feet-in-and-soaking philosophy, whenever I watch this episode (probably about 5 times now), I feel sad when I should feel happy. When Big and Carrie get together at the end (Mr. Big implies he'll "stand still" with her, which, not to be spoiler for the non-SATC-obsessed, goes awry in a big way, no pun intended), that conflicting emotion thing happens. I think it's called confusion.

Engagements bring the same sensation. One side of me wants to shout, "Hurray!" It's what the two people want, and they seem so happy in their best moments. I just know it will all work out. The other side wants to kick (some of) them and shout, "What the hell is wrong with you? Don't you see that there are some big problems here?" (Dichotomies. They are so two-faced.) And I do it with my own relationships, always have. I see the good and the bad, the love and the struggle. Love always wins. And I think it should. But it makes for a hard road. And how do you know when it's too hard? (I think all romantics should be born with the answer to this question. It's our right.) How can relationships that are right be so flawed, and how ones that are flawed be so right?

But sometimes they are, even the really good ones. When I used to read relationship books (gave them up, like a person gives up cigarettes), they would always state, "No relationship is perfect." And it's true. What's perfect anyway? However, the hardest part--why the idea of marriage and of trusting one person for the rest of your life is so scary--is that it's so very hard to tell between the good eggs and the ones that are just a little too sour, between the people who will hopefully enhance your life and the ones who will make you want to die early, even if you have to ingest fire. And probably these opposing emotions comprise every relationship. And it makes the relationship alive. Could we even enjoy the peaceful times without the conflicts, however small? Some days it seems perfect, some days a bit lacking, and others a complete disaster. Heck sometimes it's the difference between a few hours.

That's what makes me sad about this episode. There are NO ANSWERS. And I like answers. Carrie is just doing her best with the information she has and the love she feels. Been there done that. It's not a guarantee for happiness or that anything will work out, but it's the best any of us can do. That's the bitch about being in love. We can only do our best.

In non-SATC news, I had another interview yesterday. My mom sent me this article about how difficult the job market is right now. I have to say I nearly cried reading it, because it's everything I'm going through. It felt good to know I'm not alone. Thanks, Mom. I'll send you a picture of me in my McDonald's uniform soon. Just kidding (sometimes you gotta clarify).

And I have thought of a brilliant, no BRILLIANT, plan to overcome my shopping tendencies. Whenever I feel like shopping online, I'm going to browse the selection and pick out my favorite things. Then, get ready for this. Don't wet your pants, though. Instead of adding them to my "shopping bag," I am immediately going to post them here! "Wow!" you are probably saying. And I don't blame you. Would you expect any less from the History Graduate of the Year? Now I just have to figure out how to post them...and I will have created the perfect antidote to accumulating massive credit card debt (oh wait, it's too late for that).

I am going to go grocery shopping, because we have no food. Then I will take Bela for a walk. My days are like crazy busy. I barely have time to shower and get dressed, much less write on this blog. So I have to get going. But stay tuned for Carrie and the girls discussing threesomes!

Hope you'll be back. I will.