A field guide to growing up without growing apart

Tag: friends

Heading West

If you’ve read my previous blogs, you know I moved to the Middle East last year with my husband, shortly after we got married. I’ve been somewhat vague about the exact country, but here’s a big hint: It rhymes with “Naughty Labia.” Anyway, after a […]

How I Barely Survived a Czech Wedding

So, a couple of months ago Sleeping Booty posted about her experiences at a Morman wedding.  Now I want to complement that with a post about another wedding- in the Czech Republic!  Percival’s friend Tomas (pronounced To-ma-jzsh) was getting married and he wanted Percival to […]

Condition of the Month – June

Hey, friends! So it is that time of the month again.  You know you’ve been waiting for it, that time when we all post our answers to one tantalizing question.  Well your expectations have finally been met, get ready for: the Condition of the Month.

This month,  I got to choose the question, and I thought it was a fun one.  Bring up issues of modesty, nudity, and individual boundaries, this month all four princesses answered the question: nude beaches, yes or no? 

Please enjoy our thoughts and feel free to add to add a few of your own!

snowwhore tileI love being naked. One of the advantages of being married is that, unlike with a random roommate, I can walk around the house naked whenever I want (like my husband would complain). It’s a freeing feeling. And, of course, I’ve had my share of naked adventures with the naughty princesses. You know, the usual, skinny dipping, tribal dances, etc. I’m very comfortable with my body. I don’t care if I’m naked in front of one of my friends. But that is the key *in front of my friends*.

The problem with the nude beach idea for me is all the people I don’t know. Now, I know that people don’t go to nude beaches just to oogle other people’s bodies (usually), but I would still be uncomfortable. Maybe this makes me a traditionalist, but I think we should at least have a cup of coffee together before we see each other naked. It’s just common courtesy in my opinion.  Now if I were with a group of friends, and we were on our own private stretch of beach and everyone wanted to get naked, that’s fine. I would be all in. I just don’t want to expose myself in front of strangers.  Now there have been times that having a naked experience has been a bonding experience between me and someone else, but we still knew each other beforehand.  I do believe it is a way to deepen a friendship because you are letting down all barriers. But again, you still have to at least know the person on some basic level. Again, the cup of coffee thing—common decency.

As far as other people going to public nude beaches—I have no problem with that.  If that’s your cup of tea, then that’s great.  I just prefer my naked experiences to be a bit more intimate ( and yes I realize how awkward that phrasing is.)

sleeping booty tileIn theory I’m all for nakedness all the time. If seeing bodies wasn’t so forbidden maybe we’d end up seeing the people behind them more clearly. If we were naked more maybe we’d finally start feeling comfortable in our own shapes. If we were more exposed maybe we’d feel closer to each other and be less cruel.

In practice, however, I’m a little less secure about the whole thing. In high school it was common for my friends to skinny dip in hot tubs, cartwheel naked through sprinklers or moon passing vehicles in broad daylight. I, of course, never shied away from a challenge, but for me it was always that, a challenge. I rarely felt comfortable in my body, choosing to step around the corner to change when my friends would talk topless in the locker room or keep my top on when we’d sun tan on our roofs. I was afraid my boobs weren’t big enough, that the stretch marks on my thighs were too visible, that my hair down there wasn’t appropriately groomed, things that seem so superficial now. Now I know that fear I created was only useless insecurities and I’ll only hold myself back if I continue perpetuate them.

A few weeks ago I heard about this experiment where they asked people how much money they’d theoretically walk nude down a catwalk for. If the person answered with a reasonable amount then the organizers would give them the opportunity to collect then and there in front of a live audience. Some people refused, others asked for more money, but some agreed and were asked to explain how they were feeling while they did it. It turned out that the negative parts of the experience were ones the people already felt with their clothes on (wishing for smaller thighs and more defined abs), but overall the people’s responses were overwhelmingly positive. As they walked they felt empowered, becoming more and more in tune with the beauty of their bodies. When they stood stark naked in front of the crowd they realized other opinions didn’t matter, that the only view of their body that mattered was their own.

So to answer your question, yes. I’m all for nude beaches as long as you’re there for yourself, not to say you did it or to show off or compare yourself to the others but because you and the people around you are making the conscious choice to believe that your body doesn’t define who you are.

cinderslut tileSince Merskank asked, here’s what I think: Nude beaches for single genders, okey-dokey. Nude beaches for everybody, sketch-fest.

Although I am not a huge fan of nudity, over the years I have enjoyed certain all-female nude experiences, such as skinny-dipping, topless hot-tubbing, or the time we burned our bras and danced topless around the fire. These are all awesome memories—I do think being a little vulnerable and being willing to bare it all helped us bond and gain confidence. You know, love our bodies and all that stuff.

But, what normally comes to mind when you hear “nude beach,” or “clothing optional beach” is a mixed gender environment where everybody from kids to grandpas are letting it all hang out. Well, to be honest, I’m not down with that. I’ve had enough locker room experiences in my life to know that I will not actually enjoy the beach more if I have to stare at saggy skin and unfortunate crops of body hair the whole time. I know one day my boobs will sag like that too, but does that mean I want to peer into the future and behold the harsh realities of aging now? No. I’d prefer if Great-Grandma Helen just enjoyed the beach in a nice, tasteful vintage swim suit or flowy cover-up, thank-you very much.

Perhaps the ultra-conservative gender policies of the place I currently live have influenced me some, but I have to say being seen in the nude by a bunch of strange men is NOT an appetizing prospect. I have a husband, and my body is for him. Not for any other man, ever. At a nude beach, I know I wouldn’t exactly be a novelty. Heck, probably no one would even stare, like they do here just because they can see my hair. But that doesn’t change the fact that among those men there very well could be someone who is there to please himself by looking at naked women. There could even be someone who is on the prowl for someone to harm. And there’s just no way to know who those people are when you step onto a nude beach.

Let me tell you a story about the time Sleeping Booty and I visited a naked hot springs in the middle of the woods in deep hippie-land, Oregon. We wore bathing suits, but rubbing shoulders with us in that little pool were multiple old, wrinkly, hairy, naked men, including one with arguably the world’s smallest penis. Mr. Tiny Penis was friendly, and no one tried to molest us. But now, when I remember that trip to Oregon, I’ll also always have the image of Mr. Tiny Penis’s tiny penis permanently stamped in my brain. And I personally think I’d be better off without that.

little merskank tileOkay, so I wrote the question this month.   The idea of nude beaches has been floating around in the back of my mind ever since I read an article a couple of weeks ago that referenced the nude beaches in the South of France.  I remember at the time being puzzled by the question: would I visit a nude beach if I were in the South of France?  Now for the other princesses this might seem a pretty theoretical question, but I actually live in Europe- France is right there, across the water.   This theoretical question could become a reality at any time.

So: what’s the answer?  The answer is, I don’t know.  I actually like the idea of nude beaches for some reason.  It sounds liberating.  The idea of lying there, on the white sand, enjoying the sun, free from all confines…  Also, I agree with Sleeping Booty when she says that a lot of body issues in our society stem from a lack of exposure to real bodies, not those of airbrushed celebrities or models.

However, I think my real answer about nude beaches is: it depends.  Why are going?  Are you going to show off your body and illicit the attention of the opposite sex?  Or are you going to enjoy the sun, no tan lines involved?  For instance, when thinking about this question, I realized that I would never go to a nude beach with a guy I was seeing.  All of a sudden, having him there would change the tenor of the visit.  It would cross the line into something personal, rather than anonymous and liberating.  So for me, nude beaches are still an open question.  Maybe one day when I am in the South of France, I will decide.

Opposites Don’t Attach

So I Went To California. Oh man. Where to start? A list of course! Old friends know different things about you than you know yourself. Airports/Airplanes are awesome. (So is leaving notes for your friends to find behind vending machines months later). This trip I […]

California Dreamin’

I’m on Vacation in California! Hello friendship and happiness! Okay so that isn’t really true. I’m actually sitting in my bedroom the day before I’m supposed to leave for California doing my best to avoid packing until the last possible second. Turns out there is […]

Forget Polygamy, the new Mormon P-word is Pinterest.

imagesOn Saturday I went to a Mormon Wedding.

Okay so that is a lie. I’m not a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints so I am not physically allowed in the temple to watch the secret ‘sealing’ service that magically binds a man and a woman together for all eternity. I have no idea what goes on inside that room, and for all the secrecy that surrounds it, I think I’m content for it to stay that way. But though I made it to the reception, I do feel like I’ve missed out on seeing a part of my friend, of seeing a glimpse of how she is when she’s alone with her love. Watching a couple walk down the aisle and look into each other’s eyes as they promise their love is a way for me to really feel like I know someone. I’m not saying it isn’t possible to understand a person if you haven’t seen her get married, but I do think I makes a difference. And besides, it’s awesome to celebrate love, who doesn’t love a wedding?

That being said, I cry every time I attend one of these celebratory occasions, and not purely out of happiness. Usually there is some loneliness or jealousy mixed in along with a panic attack about growing up too fast and realizing that nothing will ever be the same. Sometimes there’s no dancing or the awkward mother in law takes over the mike and makes the couple promise to have kids immediately. I’ve been to weddings where the groom drank so much he started crying because he thought his new family didn’t like him and the caterers ran out of food before three tables had been served. Playlists go bad, decorations clash, arch enemies are reunited, women put on their crazy eyes; the list goes on. So as theoretically awesome as weddings should be, weddings can also suck, I get that.

And according to my parents, Mormon wedding receptions are the WORST. The ones they’ve been to entail a receiving line and not much else. Apparently they’re hosted in the poorly decorated gym of a small Mormon church (a ward) and guests are provided a cup of water or lemonade while they wait to hand the couple their gift and shake their hands in congrats. There’s no flower toss, no dancing, no mingling. Little-to-no decorations, sub-par cookies and definitely no toasts. So needless to say when my old friend from high school posted on Facebook: “Anyone who wants an invitation to my wedding should send me their address!” I was less than enthused at the prospect. But still it was a wedding and when our mutual friend (and fellow non-Mormon) insisted I attend as moral support I wasn’t about to say no.lizza-lds-weddings

But guess what?! It was AWESOME. When we arrived there was a guest book surrounded by pretty framed pictures and gorgeous paper flowers. We colorfully inked our thumbs to stamp balloons onto a picture of empty strings and walked by tables of cake and cookies and mini pies to arrive at the dance floor where a live jazz band was playing catchy tunes. There was food everywhere and tables you could mingle amongst to talk with other guests or take a load off to watch the band. The main room was circular with large windows overlooking the mountains and the patio was open for guests to explore. Tissue paper crafts hung from the ceiling and walls, twig and lace centerpieces dotted the tables. It was breathtaking and I’ve been to a lot of weddings. Forget Polygamy, the new Mormon P-word is Pinterest.

Her husband introduced himself to us before we could even take it all in. We’d never met in person but he won me over in two seconds flat when he said, “So you went to high school with my wife? Oh wow, sorry, it’s just that is the first time I’ve said that, my wife.” He gave me the best smile ever before I died of happiness then and there. She came over for a hug and though I haven’t seen her in years it was like we’d never parted. Have I told you that her dress was short yet? It was tiered and landed just below her knee, and they’d sewn the typical short sleeve covering to the strapless top to make it more modest. She glowed. Seriously glowed.

From there the night went much like any other wedding. They did a father daughter dance, then  a mother son, they even had a mood-lightening choreographed ballroom dance routine they broke into right after the always slightly awkward first dance. Still no toasts, but she threw the bouquet which broke apart into pieces as it flew threw the air, conveniently bestowing more than one member of the crowd with a promise of future love. And while us non-believers huddled fearfully in the corner, trying our best to doge the flowers of commitment, it was sweet to see her show such a kindness to her more zealous friends.

Speaking of zealous friends, here is the best part. Seeing as the temple ceremony is super special secret and only other married Mormons are allowed in, Mormons tend not to have traditional bridesmaids or groomsmen. Instead they ask their friends to wear the wedding color in support, usually allowing for more than just a few friends to feel included. Well guess who didn’t get that memo.

twilightcover
The Mormons are all about weddings. And the night after. You know you read that scene by Stephanie Meyer.

I swear guys, every female in the place was wearing peach or salmon or red or pink or some sort of spring orange that made the whole room match in beauty perfection. And then there was me and my friend, both of us wearing dark blue that signaled us out as not only outsiders but non-believers who didn’t know to call ahead and ask for the wedding colors.

But all was well because we’re talking about Mormons here, who couldn’t be rude if they tried. And besides, it’s fun to feel like a harlot every once in a while. Not to mention how happy I was just to be at this wonderful girl’s wedding. In high school we made her promise to hold out as long as she could and she made good, she turns 24 in a few weeks and she is the last of our Mormon friends to tie the knot.

The whole reception only lasted about two hours and I didn’t feel the need to sneak out a flask once (though we did consider how entertaining it would be to spike the punch). I love Mormons and I love weddings. It makes sense that the two coming together would be a match made in the 3 levels of Heaven.

 

P.s. I didn’t talk about the sex thing! A friend of mine pointed out that Mormon wedding ceremonies are generally held mid morning with the reception following much later (this one started at 6:30). She asserted that the newlyweds rush hotel/home/car to consummate their union before cleaning themselves up and heading over to their guests. I hadn’t considered that series of events and seeing as the thought of sex in general makes me blush I may or may not have slightly embarrassed myself while talking to this particular couple with that knowledge in mind. I made ridiculous faces as my rambling face said things that went a little something like this, “Congrats friends! How’s your day been so far? Get some good stuff done? Not too tired from all the activity I hope… I mean all the activities not anything in particular, you know cause wedding days are busy with more than just.. I mean you must be so excited! Not that you’re too excited…”

Back Off and Leave my Otium Alone!

Lately, several people have mentioned to me that I need to ‘get involved’ with different activities, and it has really started to bug me.  To give just one example, about a week ago, another graduate student I know was pressuring me to join the organizing […]

My Mom and Me

I love my mom. She is a wonderful, strong person and I think she did a pretty decent job raising me and my brothers. However, despite the awesome person she is, we have never been extraordinarily close. When I went through my angsty, hormone ridden, […]

All Your Stressing is Stressing Me Out!

As you know if you follow our blog at least a little bit, I go to graduate school— why, because I post about it all the time, that’s why.  Well, as a matter of course, many of my friends (excepting three of naughty princesses, obviously!) are also graduate students.  And although I love my friends, if I were to attempt to characterize my fellow advanced-degree-seeking comrades in one word that word would have to be ‘stressed’.
 stress1
 Now, it might be that my experience is slightly skewed due to the particularly competitive nature of my university  (aside: new Times university rankings  are out, by the way.  Can I get a number one in Europe?  Holla!).    So yes, school is hard.  I know.  But I feel like the people around me are stressed, all the time.  As sad as this might sound, I sometimes avoid even asking my friends how things are going because I have learned that little question invites an in-depth discussion on what needs to be done, how it can’t be done, how little time there is, and how the world in general is conspiring against them getting their work done.
But really, as I’ve learned, things do get done.  Generally assignments get turned in, no one gets kicked out, and although your supervisor may or may not be impressed with your work, in the end everything will be fine.  Perhaps I have some sort of preternatural gift, but I really don’t find my work that stressful.  Now maybe that is because I do work—a lot—and thus rarely feel  the weight of impending deadlines as much as some of my compkeep-calmatriots who are more likely to procrastinate.  But still, even then, stressing never got anyone further ahead.
skaioansaion
It just makes me sad to see the people around me so constantly frantic or bogged-down under stress.   It seems to me that if you are constantly stressing, you never get the opportunity to enjoy what you are doing.   For me at least, the whole point of being a scholar is to get to read and ruminate over ideas—to enjoy the slow pleasure of learning.  But  looking around me, I don’t really see people enjoying themselves at all.    Everyone around me is competing to move up the ladder- to get into good programs, to get funding, to get teaching positions- but sometimes I wonder: why?  If graduate school makes you stressed and unhappy, what is to say that being a professor who has to balance research, teaching, and administration, will be any better?   Maybe I am being negative, I don’t know, but Cinderslut wrote a post a while ago about how college might not always be the best choice financially, but I also feel like graduate work in particular isn’t right for everyone.
akaionas
I love graduate school.  I love that I get to spend my days reading and thinking.   But it’s not for everyone.   I sometimes feel like the people around me need to learn to chill out more and enjoy their experience, many of them are, after all, paying thousands of pounds to be here.  And, if at the end  of the day they don’t enjoy what they’re doing, they should find something else.  Now is the best moment and it shouldn’t be spent being stressed.

March Condition of the Month – We are Princesses

Naughty Princesses Assemble! We’ve been at this whole blogging thing for a few months now (so far so good??) and I figured it was time you folks learned a bit more about the four of us and why we go by the pseudonyms we do! […]

The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I do not have many friends. And I am absolutely OK with that. Part of moving to a new place halfway across the world is that you know you’ll have to start over and make all new friends. And, being a person who does not […]

Feeling SAD on V-Day

It’s that time of the year again…the time when the stores are full of pink and red candies, heart-shaped balloons, and musical greeting cards (well, except where I live). The time of the year when single girls everywhere eat too much chocolate and wish they had boyfriends to treat them special on Valentine’s Day. For most of my life, I was one of those girls, perennially single, frequently bitter, and increasingly pessimistic about my love life. Even the year I actually had a boyfriend on V-Day, we had dinner with friends, not at some fancy restaurant alone.

For this reason, February 14th was always Singles’ Awareness Day for me, never a day of romance and love. In middle school, I wore my cutest glittery sweater on the day of our Valentine’s Day social, hoping to get asked to dance, but I never was. In college, I remember making homemade valentines with Snow Whore and attending the Vagina Monologues with friends, celebrating our singleness as best we could. Then, when I finally started dating my husband, he was inconveniently living abroad, so Valentine’s Day was celebrated with a Skype date not much different from any other daily chat we had. And, then, last year, I worked the evening shift at the tutoring center, listening to the V-Day drama of my students. On all these V-Days that passed me by, a dose of girl-time and a box of chocolates for myself was enough to keep me reasonably content, but it didn’t mean I wasn’t wishing for more.

And now, I am married, and the rules of the game have surely changed. What do married people do on Valentine’s Day? Share a bottle of wine at a nice restaurant? Write each other poetry? Buy each other frivolous gifts? I feel like I have finally arrived at a place I have been trying to reach for years, only to find that it’s a bit of a let-down.married v day

To be honest, February 14th just makes me miss my friends. I feel utterly unmotivated to display my love for my valentine in any grandiose way. All the cute crafts on Pinterest require supplies I don’t have, and going out to a Valentine’s dinner just isn’t the same when you’re wearing a black abaya instead of a little black dress. In fact, I have half a mind to take after some friends of mine who refuse to acknowledge V-Day at all.

Has our romance died after only 10 months of marriage? I don’t think so…last weekend we had sex three times, and we rack up quite the bill with our daily cutesy texts. But maybe I just need another year to let my inner melancholy single out before I can show V-Day some love.