under Date Night
As your date comes to an end and you’re saying goodbye you may start getting nervous about what to do… handshake, hug, kiss, full-on make-out session? What should you do (or not do) to make sure you’re sending the right message?
Let’s operate on the assumption that the date went well — you’ve enjoyed each other’s company, so before bidding adieu: discuss plans to see each other again, thank each other for a nice time, and express how nice the date was. Then… go in for a hug while being open for a kiss without seeming to eager. That means having open body language and leaning towards your date with a smile and making eye contact. If your date returns those same signals then a short, closed-mouth kiss held for a few seconds is likely welcomed and will be reciprocated.
And if your date didn’t go so hot, well, there are even a few different scenarios within that area. If there wasn’t chemistry, but you still had fun, then give the hips-out hug. If it was just not-so-great, then a handshake will do. And, if it was awful, then a wave while saying thank you will suffice.
(And of course, I must address the dates where there’s lots of chemistry, but you don’t see a future… in that case, go in for the full-on make-out session and have fun!)
under Date Night
For some reason there’s this new trend of not kissing at the end of a great first date. Why? I have no clue! Perhaps it’s to leave them wanting more, or to be perceived as demure — either way it make no sense.
If you’ve enjoyed the date then seal it with a kiss. Let them know that you are interested in them, and in seeing them again. And, of course, to see if there’s any chemistry. I’m not saying you need to engage in a full-blown make-out session; a sweet lingering kiss goodnight will suffice!
Spring is here (finally!) and while the flowers are abloomin’, people are asufferin’ from allergies. Alas, this post has nothing to do with spring succulents, but rather with the other succulent — your pucker (not your pecker, get your head out of the gutter!) — that is, your lips. Lips are important but it’s not how thick or thin they are but how moisturized they are. So I guess this does tie back in to allergies after all as most people with a stuffy nose or blocked sinuses right now have dry lips as well.
No one wants to kiss dry lips. You could have pencil-line thin, barely-there lips or you could have Lisa Rinna plump and juicy lips, but if they are dry and cracked and you have that yucky white film building up in the corners of your lips, then no one is going to want to kiss you.
Carry chapstick with you at all times, particularly on the first few dates. Ladies — I strongly advise that you find a tinted chapstick or something non-sticky to put on your lips. Wet lips draw a man to your lips and almost compel him to kiss you. Men — I don’t care if it’s strawberry flavored, make sure you moisturize your lips. Even if your lips don’t feel dry you should roll on a layer in an undercover way prior to puckering up.
I think that all of my tastes stopped evolving at age fourteen. Though 1997 was great and it certainly had its highs (Los Del Rio, seeing Titanic for the first time, my first kiss), it also had unfathomable lows (Heaven’s Gate, my parents’ divorce, seeing Titanic for the second and all subsequent times). I don’t know why I see it as a cultural or personal milestone that I had to preserve in my mind as a beacon of unequalled excellence.
Nevertheless, I don’t think that my likes or dislikes have changed since then, the Year of the Macarena. My favorite food, in almost every cultural category, has been the same. My dislike for cheese has remained deep-seated. My dance skills are still awesome. I still hope to one day ride in a spaceship. I still like all the same music, movies, and television shows though new bands, movies, and programs have built on my tastes. I still dislike coffee, and often ponder the existence of all hot drinks. I still like girls.
I guess that once I started liking girls in more than just a procreative way, everything else sort of froze. I have been stuck in a limbo-like youth state. Maybe my life can continue maturing past age thirteen once I finally find someone that I want to spend the rest of my psychologically-stunted forever pre-teen life with. Until then, I’ll be here, listening to The Nixons, chewing gum and drinking soda pop.