Sunday, June 21, 2009
Sure, I know it's kind of shallow to judge a man by what his height is, but I can't help it. I'm only 5'5'', and I'm attracted to men who are close to my height. I don't think there is anything wrong with it. There are all kinds of equally superficial reasons people are turned on and off by people. My friend Jess will only date a man if he has a full head of hair. My other homegirl Gab insists he atleast have a six pack. Measuring a man's attractiveness in vertical inches may be superficial, but at least it's a feature that lasts a lifetime.
I've always wondered about women who want their men to be ball player height, at least 6'2''. Maybe they dont feel uncomfortable looking their guy in the eye? Do they feel too big and want to feel smaller? Maybe it's some kind of daddy fixation. Or maybe they are just like, fuck it, the dude doesn't listen anyway, so why not just talk to his chest?
Perhaps some women can't handle the male physique. They are only capable of dealing with one body part at a time. Personally, I like to have everything within easy reach. Kissing is a lot more fun when you're not getting a cramp in your neck. And for a the ultimate sexual experience, you just can't beat having lips, nips and hips all match up at once. There's a special intimacy that comes with being the same height as your lover. Visually, your perspective is the same. You truly see each other eye to eye. And with lips so close to ears, you can easily whisper sweet nothings to him, even in public places.
There's a sense of exhibitionism that comes into play, too. You and your boo are always so perfectly aligned, so perfectly matched up, so its easy access. Clothes are all that keep your bodies from touching in all the right places.
There is a special youthfulness about short men. Most retain their boyish looks well beyond boyhood. The aging back problems that plague their taller brothers aren't as common among short men. Gravity is kinder to them. And, of course, sex just fits better. Being the same height makes it possible to do complicated positions without being super flexible. Standing sex is easier when your legs are the same length.
Depending on which study you believe, the average penis size is somewhere between 5 and 6 inches. But the difference in average penis size for a 5'4'' man and a 6'4 ''one is only half an inch!
Perception makes all the difference. Does he pull out six inches or is he packing some 9 inch heat? Is size predictable? Not really. At least I don't think it is. Sure you can look at feet and fingers. Big thick fingers will almost guarantee that you'll get something big and thick. Short, tall, fat or thin doesn't seem to make a reliable difference in predicting penis size. Tight pants make for nice packaging visual, but make most men look kinda gay(Ie:Kanye West).
With the family jewels, like fine jewels, the setting is key. A man's body is sort of a background display for his dick. And it works like an optical illusion. Big body + average penis =Ehh..Okay. Average body + average penis = average. Really short guy + average penis = Hot Damn! This is the guy who looks like he's got a third leg.
You can't stereotype penis size. Personality size, however, is something else. There is some truth to short guys being loud, obnoxious and more aggressive. Since childhood, they've had to speak up to be noticed. What they lack in height, they make up for in might and wit. Little boys who are small for their age are usually the biggest troublemakers and smartasses. They may not beat up on other kids, but they're the ones they stay instigating shit. The smart ones become champions at verbal ether. Some even manipulate the larger boys into causing trouble.
As short boys grow (hopefully not too much), they can use those people skills to get ahead in the world. Some will appear taller as they develop a bigger bank account.
I've always believed that all men can be masculine. But short men have their masculinity in a stronger, more concentrated form. Yes, they can sometimes be extra explosive -- it's a matter of contents under pressure. Napoleon is a perfect example. Short dude with a high-testosterone, full-of-fight personality. And he had a reputation for being one very horny mofo. That picture of him standing with his hand tucked into his coat? My guess:he was actually grabbing his dick. It reached all the way up there.
My friend, who wanted to hook me up with dude, finally admitted that the man was 6'2''. He had seen me at a party a while back. I, not looking in his direction (up), hadn't even noticed him. "But he sure noticed you," she said. "He's been going on and on about your how gorgeous you are. He told me he dreams of taking you out and sweeping you off your feet. Stop being a bitch, Please, he's been begging and begging me to introduce you."
Begging? I thought. Oh, fuck it. All men are short when they're on their knees.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Recently, I was on the phone complaining to my old lover after another disastrous date.
Okay, wait, maybe I’m being a little dramatic.
He’s not my old lover AT ALL and the date wasn’t that bad. Old Lover is an "old friend" and the date? Turns out Mr.Perfect has three kids and he hadn't seen them in three years even though they live one borough away. Can you say DEADBEAT? SMDH.
So old lover asks if this is the same guy who I met at my friends b-day party(Second Date Syndrome dude). It’s not. SDS fell by the wayside too. Good dude, but he was only appealing to me with a few drinks in my system and since I'm trying to cut down on the alcohol, it just wouldn't have worked.
I get asked about other people I’ve mentioned to the old lover in passing since we became "just" friends late last year. The lovely specimen who had worse grammar than my 6 yr old cousin, the white boy, the industry guy who... Hold up. Actually, there’s nothing wrong with him… except the fact that he’s in the industry.
Old lover listens intently, pointing out more flaws that I seem to have forgotten about these dudes. Then he goes into how he still has my ring and my watch and I need to come through to his new spot to get them.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m outside his new apartment. The first thing he says when I walk in: "My baby's home."
I roll my eyes at him and take off my blazer and hold it in my arm, still holding my bag around my shoulder. I'm not staying long.
"You know I don’t like when you be going out with these other lames." He had this smirk on his face when he said it, so I couldn’t tell if he was serious or joking.
He’s acting real wierd. I roll my eyes again.
I watch him as he sits down the couch and starts flipping through channels.
"Can I get my jewelry?"
He just looks at me. "Sit down for a sec. You want some iced tea or something? "
"Err-So you think I'm staying?"
"You shouldn’t have left in the first place."
I sit down on the couch and snatch the remote from him, and start flicking through the channels.
"Babes, why aren’t we together?" He asks like it's a question I should have been expecting.
I stop flipping channels for a second, but still don't look him in the face. "What?"
"You heard what I said. I know I didn't stutter."
"Umm..'Cause your the homie." HBO, MTV, Oxygen...
He snickers. "Stop lying to yourself."
Um? "So what the hell do you think we are then?"
"When you need something, who do you call?"
Yay! Family Guy re-runs on TBS. "Not always, it depends on what I need."
"Stop being like that."
"I don't know what you are talking about."
Then he takes the remote and turns off the TV. Oh lawd! I give in and finally look at him, giving him the undivided attention he clearly wants.
"When you need something, you call me. When someone else f*cks up, you call me to fix it."
I quickly grab a magazine from the side table. Oooh Michael Jordan on SLAM! "What do you want me to say?"
"No, just listen to me." He snatches the magazine out of my hand and puts it back on the table. And once again I give him my full attention.
"You need someone to talk to? You always call me. You feel lonely? I’m here. You got a problem? I always get it fixed, you hear me?"
I nod in agreement. "I hear you but,where are you going with this?"
"If I’m the one you always run to, why did you even break up with me? Now I live 20 minutes away from you, you can't make that "inconvenience" BS excuse either."
I thought, What the hell?! but I didn’t mean to blurt it out.
"Think about it. It makes so much sense." Damn, now this mofo is staring at the table like it's going to talk back to him. "We chill, we talk, we make eachother smile, we never argue. I have really intense feelings for you. And you can front, but I know you're feeling me too."
"You think I'm feeling you huh?" I ask jokingly, trying to pretend like it wasn't a serious conversation.
"Would you be here if you didn’t?" He is not playing.
POW! IN MY FU%*IN FACE!
"So what do you think?" He takes my hand and I look at our fingers intertwined, then look up at him. For the first time in a long time, I think about us. He makes valid points. He’s dependable, convenient, sweet, sexy. I’m definitely attracted to him. We don’t really argue like we used to and he is pretty damn sexy. (My bad, Did I already tell you that?)
"Yea, I don't know. You just come at me out of the blue with that sh%t."
"Out of the blue?" He nods, presses his lips together and does the LL. "So I just want you to think about it? I’m so serious."
He reaches for the remote, leans back and puts on a movie. The opening scene to 'A Bronx Tale' comes on.
"A Bronx Tale, Word?" I looked up at him and smiled.
"Don't you love this movie?"
"I never told you that."
He laughs. "You told me your dvd was scratched and to look for it that time I was at best buy, so I just figured it was."
He signals for me to lean on his shoulder. I get us some iced tea, cut the light and then I snuggle into him. Why the hell haven't I thought of dating him before? It makes a lot of sense. But real talk, it never even crossed my mind since we agreed to be nothing more than just friends from the get go.
Could I date him though? How is it any different than what we already have?
I couldn't stop smiling for some reason, I turned to him and, look up at his face.
He looks down at me, kisses my forehead. "Keep thinking about it. No rush."
Thursday, June 4, 2009
On some level, I was dating who I was at the time.
It is kinda hard to imagine that, given the parade of losers that have made pit stops in and out of my life.Sad, but true.When I met my ex aka “Jerk”, I was a mess. I was a broken, irresponsible, lost person who would seek comfort not from my friends, but from liquor. I was also pretty damn selfish not giving a shit what anyone thought or how I made them feel. And the only real difference between me and “Jerk” was the degree to which we were both drinking, broken, irresponsible, lost and selfish.