The mess in the living room

I recently realized something. A little blip of recognition.

If you're a breeder: Between your parents' house, your dorm, your roommates, and then kids of your own, a retirement community, maybe a nursing home ... there are very few -- precious few -- years when you can wake up on a Sunday morning and stagger out to your living room to find you'd left a pile of underwear on the floor, empty bottles stacked up on bookshelves, and lube and toys on the coffee table. Enjoy them.

I know I plan to.

Miss Manners Neglected to Talk About...

You have a Good One: nice, considerate, sweet. Only thing is, you have the sex drive of a blue-assed baboon and they have the sex drive of... well, do they even have a sex drive? A few of my friends are having this problem, and it's not limited to guys or limited to girls. So I'm asking you: is there a loving way to tell someone that you care about that they need to put out or ship out? I mean, I'm a woman in her 30's... and it's true what they say about women in their 30's. I think sex is healthy and demand a healthy amount of it right now. Maybe we can get some guy advice: has ANYONE ever come up with a tactful way of having this conversation with someone?

Dear Serial: Is this legal?

Dear Serial,

I attended my cousin's wedding. Yes, the reception was open bar. There was a guy there and... truth be told, I knew he was on the Bride's side too because he managed to sit next to me at the wedding proper. We exchanged pleasantries and photos of the wedding.

Later, we ended up running away from the celebration and mindlessly making out on streetcorners throughout downtown Major Midwestern City. We have since done the other rather more naked things that people tend to do.

He is my father's brother's widow's great-nephew. There is no real blood connection so we think we might be okay (despite the fact that we are both the black sheep of our families). Oh, yeah, and I don't really look my age and he's 12 years younger than me. Still, is this illegal? He's 23... so it's probably legal in most states.

Help me,
"Sophia"

Dear Sophia,

I had to draw a picture to get this one straight in my head.



OK, so I'm not really great at drawing family trees (And I totally gave him Justin Beiber hair). Basically, it looks like while you guys are of the same generation. I'd go so far as to say you're family, but I'm not pulling the incest card. I googled family relationships and looked at some charts written by people who understand this shit, and I don't think you're actually any kind of cousin, not even a cousin 14 times removed.

As for the age, yes. You're cool.

So, legally, we're all good.

The real question is whether it's OK, morally. And I say, yes. Not only is it OK, morally speaking, but it's pretty hot. Forbidden fruit, but without the yucky concerns of arrest or babies with arms growing out of their foreheads.

Fact is, people are supposed to hook up at weddings. That's what weddings are for. It's not about the couple. Weddings exist for the purpose of making old ladies cry, giving people the opportunity to dress up, and giving all of us an excuse to get wasted and get laid. Even if you're humping a way younger, almost-relative. Or, maybe especially if you're humping a way younger, almost-relative.

Rowr.

Love,

Serial



Got a question for Serial Monogamist? Oh, sure you do. Send them to seriallymonogamous[at]gmail[dot]com

Ooooh Girl, an honest R&B song

Thanks Dave for the video heads up!

Messy First Impressions

I met my steady beau's parents for the first time over the holidays this year. Everything was great. They loved me, I loved them, presents were exchanged, etc.

So I was feeling pretty solid when a few days into the visit, beau and I have sex in the spare bedroom. I'm on my period, so we put a towel down. At one point in the whole romp I feel a bit more wetness than normal but I think whatever, there's a towel..

Oops.

When we're done doing the deed, I get up to examine the towel and sheets. And there are three bright red spots on the top sheet. Three more bright red spots on the under sheet. And three more bright red spots on the down comforter thinger on top of the mattress. Thankfully there weren't any on the actual mattress.

Mortified. Absolutely mortified at not only the three bright red spots but also the fact that beau has to tell his mother that I started my period and had an accident. (No fucking way are we telling her what it was actually from.)

I can overhear their conversation, in which he actually says "______ had her period last night and it got on the sheets. She's mortified." and somehow the level of embarrassment increases ten-fold.

Beau's mom handles it like a champ. She's nice and says its no big deal, gives me a hug and sends us on our way for the day. When we return, the sheets are all clean with no sign of last night's mess.

Ok, great. No problem. Handled that. But then the next morning, I wake up to find black spots all over the pillow case.

My fucking hair dye from three weeks ago stained the pillow case. I had gone to bed with my hair wet and apparently there was still dye left all these weeks later.

Fucking hell. No way am I taking the fall on this one so I insist that beau take responsibility and say it's his dirty working man's hands that caused the spots.

Whether or not beau's mother believed him, I wasn't around to find out.

Arm twisting

Last night, I had a newish squeeze over for a movie. I succumbed to a frantic week, and passed out about 20 minutes in. I woke to the credits, and a large hand pinching my thigh.

"Hmf," I said, in my best imitation of myself from Jr. High, "Can't I just sleep here?"

"You can sleep wherever you want," he said. "I'm gonna go get naked and get in your bed."

And that, boys, is how you convince a lady.