My Sophomore Year of Celibacy

Mlley Cyrus says "Fuck."

It’s a drink, and a trashy magazine.

Miley Cyrus is on the cover of the March issue of Cosmopolitan magazine.*  She gave an interview, which you can read here, in which she says “fuck” a lot.  That’s ok with me.  I say “fuck” a lot, too, and I probably said it a lot more back when I was twenty and trying to prove—hmm, well, I don’t know what I was trying to prove.  I don’t think Miley Cyrus knows what she’s trying to prove, either.

So the reports of Hannah Montana Miley Cyrus saying “fuck” brought my attention to Cosmopolitan, a magazine I hadn’t thought much about in the past ten years, but one I used to sneak-read every chance I got when I worked third shift at a Sunoco Mini Mart the summer between my freshman and sophomore years in college.  Back then, Cosmopolitan offered advice on fashion and make up, but mostly I read it for the information it gave me on sex, and the promise it made that I could have Great Sex.

But, damn, he was gorgeous.

Checking out another girl on the other side of pool.

Up until then, I had not had Great Sex.  In fact, I had not even had Good Sex. I had lost my virginity during my senior year in high school, and I remember lying there afterwards and wondering, “Is that it?”  I continued to wonder about sex as I strung along my high school boyfriend, Keith (you can read more about the whole sorry episode in this post, Remind Me Not to Date Taylor Swift) and through my freshman year in college, when I had sex with dated a very serious poli sci major who wanted to talk about ethnic cleansing (the Bosnian War was raging at the time) after sex.  I guess I don’t have to explain why that didn’t work out.  Then, I had sex with  dated a swimmer who I met while playing the drinking game Quarters.  He kept singling me out to drink as he plopped quarter after quarter into the shot glass.  I think that’s what they call a  “meet-cute” nowadays.  Or maybe not.  He broke my heart when I found out that all those calls he was getting weren’t from his mother after all.  Regardless, the sex with him wasn’t anything special, perhaps because he was exhausted from all the other girls he was fucking swimming.

Meanwhile, Cosmopolitan was out there promising me that there was Great Sex to be had.  “Ten Dazzling Bedroom Moves to Drive Him Wild!” or “Learn the New Technique to Achieve Multiple Orgasms!” I wasn’t sure if I had even had one orgasm yet (I hadn’t) and yet Cosmo told me there were women out there who knew the secret to having lots of them.

Who would eat a candy bar after it's been down your pants?

Melts in your mouth. And also down the leg of your pants if you stuff it there.

So there I was, behind the counter of the Sunoco, reading that month’s copy of Cosmopolitan instead of restocking the cigarettes, waiting for some overweight guy to hurry up and decide what candy to buy.  I was thinking about everything that was wrong with my love life when I looked up and wondered if the fat guy had a girlfriend and if they had Great Sex.  Just then, two Hershey bars clattered to the floor from out of the left leg of his baggy pants.  Without making eye contact with me, he turned and exited the store.  I looked after him with the copy of Cosmo still in my hands and decided then and there that I would just stop having sex.

Thus began my Sophomore Year of Celibacy.

*If you decide to head over and check out the cover of the new issue of Cosmo, you’ll catch more than a glimpse of Ms. Cyrus’s magnificent breasts; you’ll even find an article (surprise!) promising “Your Best Sex Ever!”

 

Royalty free stock photos including the images in this post can be found at Stock.XCHNG 
and at freedigitalphotos.net.

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5 thoughts on “My Sophomore Year of Celibacy

  1. Ralph says:

    Hi (I haven’t a clue what you name is so I’ll call you Sister of the Order of the Melting Chocolate) Hi Sister. I’ve been celibate for 20 years or so mainly because I have not been in a sexual relationship but was a companion to the lady I lived with for those years. I am now having to reconsider my options as she died 6 months ago, whether to give up chocolate and start practicing lines such as ” I’ll phone you” or “was that okay”. No. I think I will stick to chocolate!! Big hug. Ralph xox

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    • Karen says:

      Hi Ralph,

      I dunno. If I had to do it, I think it would be easier to give up chocolate than to give up sex (thankfully, I have to give up neither)

      Like

  2. Dave says:

    I used to read my moms old issues of Cosmo when I was a little kid. I kind of figured that all women care about is Max Factor and clitoral stimulation.
    Then I hit puberty and all I cared about was where I could put my pecker, and like punk rock and stuff.
    Now I’m all old and shit. Been with the love of my life for sixteen years, though we’ve only been married for five now. Needless to say Cosmo was full of shit, as were all those 1970’s back issues of Hustler I was “reading” when I was thirteen.
    Sex, in the final analysis, is just sex. Orgasms are just orgasms. It aint like nobody never had one by the time they hit middle age and aint like they aren’t gonna ever have another. I didn’t get laid for eight years while I was in the joint. I thought it was a big deal, like I REALLY needed to get a shot of ass when I hit the bricks or I would simply perish. It wasn’t that big of a deal it turned out, at all.
    Love, however, that shit is a big deal. Empires have fallen on account of it, people have killed and died over it. Some days I’m like, well, I really don’t have shit…but me and her, we’re still in love so everything is fucking rad.
    Ad driven consumerist publications aint gonna be able to market gadgets, gee-gaws, pills, powders and creams on account of that though. They’ll hyper sexualize everything else in our raunch culture to make a buck, but they just can’t target the demographic for what makes people stay together through hell or high water.
    Probably nobody ever says this on your blog, but I think it’s awesome that you did settle down with a great guy (I’m assuming he’s great-I know at the least he must have a fabulous sense of humor) and you make no bones about being married and enjoying such a life. I don’t know, I just think that’s cool. It’s one of the reasons I like your blog so much.

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    • Karen says:

      Thanks for the colorful and thoughtful reply! And thanks for the compliment about my blog.

      Hmmmm. I don’t think women can separate sex and love the way men seem to be able to, so when sex is less than the fireworks that Cosmopolitan promised me for years (for years!) it caused me (and a lot of other women, I’m sure) to wonder just what was wrong. In your comment here, you say, “Sex is just sex” and I think that is a view that is shared by a lot of men, and I think most women, whether they actually believe it or just convince themselves to believe it, equate sex with love.

      I’m sure I’ll write more about this later–

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