One of my Dad’s favorite expressions was “Youth is wasted on the young.” So, I see now, is lube. Teenage boys have been using it for years. Lube. Olive Oil. Banana peels. Or anything else Portnoy could think up. And they used it unapologetically. And in copious amounts. They used it because it felt good. Full stop. So what happened? Did they think the girl wouldn’t like it? Were they embarrassed to bring it out? Unfortunately for us girls, the closest thing we got to lube was KY-Jelly at the gynocologists office.  And you know what? We could have used lube then, and we can certainly use it now.8c741e45-65b8-bd7b-dd8a-bda07faad7c3

Lube has this strange stigma attached to it for women. Like if we aren’t self lubricating then somethings wrong with us. We’re not turned on. Or we’re post-menopausal. None of which are true. Sometimes, sports fans, we’re just dry. And sometimes, even if we are wet, poking something dry inside can still be painful. Lube has not gender. Lube has no age. Lube is a all round player in the world of pleasure. So pour it on!

For teenage girls it would certainly make self pleasuring a lot less painful. We girls all know what I’m talking about. And for lovemaking, it’s always a plus. It doesn’t make things too slippery. It doesn’t effect intensity for the man. It just smooths everything out. For everyone. If there’s pain, let there be lube. Even if you’re pouring like Niagara.

And for my menopausal ladies — you should have this on your bedside stand like you do your lotion. Dryness is a big issue post-menopause. And sex can be painful — for lots of different reasons. But a good lubricant can take care of a good 75% of the issues. Really. And, it enhances his pleasure as well. There is no need for pain in pleasure (unless you so desire it).

Besides, lube is fun in other ways, too! Great for hand jobs. And is a great way to get your man to soften his touch. Try it on your nipples, for a little massaging. Though not a substitute for massage oil as it absorbs more quickly and differently, it is fun to try on different erogenous zones to create a smooth, soft touch. Just for a minute. And then no messy, oily residue to deal with! My favorite is Kamastra’s Love Potion. It’s silicone. I know. But it’s light and it lasts a long time. And, yes, you could use olive oil, but it doesn’t absorb the same way and you wind up smelling like a salad.

So why the diatribe on lube? Because 75% of the people that walk into my store don’t use it. And at least half of them again, return to thank me and buy more. So go ahead. Buy it. At the very least, it’ll bring up some fun high school memories to get your evening off to a memorable start.

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I’m here, hanging at the shop, getting ready for a first date. I love first dates. They’re bursting with possibility…. like spring. And, well, it’s far from spring-like out. Or what I like to think of as spring. You know, the days like yesterday where it’s so beautiful you can taste summer. But not today.

  • It’s a cold — 50 degrees.
  • It’s rainy. Nasty Spring rain. Wet. Cold. Drizzly. (My hair doesn’t stand a chance for this date, let me tell you.)
  • It’s dark and gloomy. Not inviting. Not warm. Just dreary.
  • However…. pansies are the flower box. Crocuses are flooding front lawns all over Fairfield County. Daffodils are bursting themselves with the first early bloomers — big and bright. Robins are afield, looking for food.

But I did think about, given the circumstances, what would a perfect date look like on a night like tonight? Not my date tonight — mine will be one of those slightly uncomfortable ones, sitting at the bar, hoping we get along as well as we did on email and phone. But if I flashed forward to a year from now — providing things went well (no pressure) — what would my date tonight look like then. It looks like this:

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It’s Spring. April is the month of possibilities. Everything has potential in April. Everything is new and fresh and bright and filled with the urge to be bigger, more beautiful. Even on this cold dark day, I’ve only to walk to the front of the boutique, catch a glimpse of my purple and yellow pansies and I’m a happy girl. It’s a sensual month to be sure. And a month were everything, despite itself, continues to grow. Through the cold, the wet and the dark.

So I can think the date above, but I can’t quite have it yet. So I’m giving it to you.

Build the fire. Dim the lights. Put on J’ai Deux Amours by Madeleine Peroux. Pour some Fourplay wine (it’s all in the name). Listen to the rain. Savor your partner. And see what blossoms.

So what is the line? When have you crossed it?

Is it the daily emails? Is it that first phone conversation? Is it the anticipation of your phone pinging you to tell you that you have a text?

Is it that first not so innocent touch at the bottom of your back? The first time you realize you shiver when you see him? Is it that first kiss? I don’t know. But my question is — whose boundary are you crossing? Yours. His. Or one that has been defined by our Puritanical history? What are you doing with the information? What does it mean?

I hear women are having affairs in record numbers these days. Is that different than before? No. I don’t think so. Women are just better at keeping those kinds of secrets, so we don’t hear about them. And in the land of anonymous Internet polling a new voice is being heard. Because our affairs (the ‘us’ of women) are coming from a place of deep wounds and healing. We’re discriminate. We’re honest with our feelings. We’re not pretending to be something we’re not. We are finding a healing. And that’s not bar talk. Our affairs aren’t bragging rights to be “understood” by our female cohort. It’s a dark hurt. That’s not a pass, it’s a truth.

To paraphrase a good friend, ‘the line of vulnerability gets thinner with each glass of wine.’ What’s a ‘girl’s night out’ after all? It’s a night to get shit out on the table. It might be shrouded in drink and revelry, but it’s all very raw. Very real. And you go home wondering.

So what is vulnerabililty for us? The need to be championed. The need to attended to. The need to feel again. The need to be appreciated. Is that different for men? On the outside yes. On the inside maybe not.

So what do I think? Men have affairs to get caught. Women have affairs to get found.

My answer — it’s your line. Cross it if you must. But make sure you like what (and who) is on the other side.

Can we talk about dating for a minute? It’s quite pertinent to me today as I enter into the Memorial Day Weekend, the start of summer fun, single. Now, to be clear, I don’t have an issue being single. I don’t feel “alone” or “unlovable.” I’m just not seeing anyone right now. But it does make me think I need to try harder to find my mate.

This conversation is doubled by the fact that I’m being filmed this evening for a documentary about single women and dating. During the pre-shoot interview they asked about my dating regimen (my word, not theirs) and I outlined all the usual suspects. Bars, online dating, and pressuring married friends, I mean, they “must know someone.”

All have been employed with similar success, or lack thereof. And here is my POV on what’s going on out there. It’s the land of the better deal. And we single folk are ALL guilty of it. There is no male of female skew here, as far as I know.

The Bar: What I find interesting about the bar scene these days is anyone will talk to anyone. People will join your conversation regardless of invitation. And this makes for a fun evening, and, depending on the make up of the conversation clutch, can increase your chances, or — better yet — give you options. However, no matter how great the person(s) you meet at the bar is — a cuter, sexier, blonder, richer (c’mon, be honest, this is Fairfield County) prospect could walk in at any moment. And they will be immediately added to the conversation if available. It’s fascinating. I’ve watched amazing feats of “joining” and “inviting.” However, this enmasse strategy can seriously backfire as everyone is having fun as a group, but can’t necessarily support the one-on-one. I feel, gravitate towards the one your most attracted to and stick. See if you handle :30 minutes at the bar alone. Better chances for success in my book. But, hey, I’m still single.

Online Dating: Don’t get me started here. eharmony delivered me 6 “perfect matches” PER DAY for over a year. Are you kidding me? And I don’t want to be unkind, but these were far from my perfect match, trust me. And I’m pretty open. And the rigor of getting to open communication is enough to make anyone go limp. And Match.com (or sex.com as many people now call it) is pretty much in full rotation mode if you’ve been on it for more than a year. I haven’t seen anyone new for over a year. (And God help you if you are new — fresh meat is an understatement.) I finally quit. I was just done. Men whom I had already written, letting them know I’m was not interested, came back. Do they think I’ve forgotten? Or do they think I’ve just gotten more desperate?

And what is up with people getting back online within minutes of getting back from a date? I’m guilty of this as well, but I’m checking to see if the guy is online — like this is some barometer of how well our date went. And, people, I’m not exaggerating, 95% of the time they’re there –at least have the courtesy to look under a pseudo-profile (like I did).

One more question, are there any manners left in the world? Why do people find it appropriate to go on a date or three and then disappear? Not EVEN an email. Again, please, I dated a guy 3 months from Match.com who broke up with me by email. Shocking. I don’t think this is a Match.com issue per say, but the online dating medium has created a whole new communications channel to hide behind. But email is only marginally better than texting as it relates to dating etiquette in my book. Be a man for heaven’s sake. What’s the worse that can happen? Really.

Married friends: Let’s face it. They’ll set you up with anyone. I’m convinced this is either to shut you up so you wont’ ask again or because they think you’re blind. Those are really the only two excuses I can imagine for what has shown up on my doorstep. Do they honestly believe the sole criteria of being single makes you compatible?

Maybe the rules of dating haven’t changed, maybe they’ve just become more transparent in the digital age. Maybe bars have become over crowded with singles and divorcees and the marrieds simply don’t have the time or energy to find you a perfect mate. But I guess all I’m asking for are some manners. Some common courtesy. Don’t look over my shoulder at every woman that passes, maybe just half. And at least email me a ‘thanks but not sure we’re a match.’ I can take rejection. I can’t take rudeness. And it’s not because the other person is a bad person, he’s just forgotten the rules of proper dating etiquette. Because people think they’re no longer required. God knows it’s easier to disappear, but be a stand up person. Who knows, even though we didn’t work out, I might know the perfect girl for you!