There is just this one wish I have for man who ever is going to propose me. I don’t mind how he does it (but might have notice that my taste is not for romantic cliches…) but please would you not propose me at Valentines. It is so old and corny.

My parents got engages at Valentines day in fact. The Valentines day at that time was not really known in my country and my father must have picked up the idea in Germany, where he had lived and worked as an engineer for couple of years (yes my family is kind of a travelling one).

One can see there was a novelty factor there, because as I said the day and its celebration was not well known yet and it was something fresh still. Today it is different even here. I would much prefer 2.2 (February second) for example or new years eve or midsummer or preferably any other day in calender – even if it would not have any great meaning, but I wish he would skip the Valentines.

Yet this might not be very important posting as I am likely never to be proposed. It just came to my mind in the after Valentine feeling.  Maybe I need to try my luck at some leap day some year (not this year tough because I would not know who to propose). At least I can get new gloves or dress cloth (depends on tradition which one).

This is a booked posting. So:

Although most of us consider kissing part of common romantic behaviour, it isn’t so in all cultures. It is not long since Japanese considered kissing strange and exotic erotic technique professed by the wordly women.

In my own culture kissing is kind of private thing and kissing in public a statement of a kind. Usually people don’t kiss openly on the streets. When I was a little girl I used to hide my head in the pillows while there was a kissing scene in the telly. Still it makes me uncomfortable to see people to kiss in live, even if I am used to seeing it on the screen. You would not easily catch me kissing either.  While we are a bit inhibited in this sense, nobody in my culture considers kissing itself immoral or unnatural. It is just private.

Anthropology doesn’t offer clear answer to the question, whether kissing is learned or instinctive. Yet many primates kiss in their own ways. Bonobos (Congo Chimpanzees or so called Pygmy Chimpanzees) use kissing to soothing tension among them. On the other hand many Eastern Asian cultures have traditionally found kissing repulsive practice.

“A surprising number of Asian (and African and South American) groups have learned to view mouth-to-mouth kissing as dirty, dangerous, and disgusting, something akin to sticking one’s tongue in another’s nose and wiggling it around. It turned off [an Asian woman, married to an American, Caucasian man] to imagine, anticipate, or experience it, and she felt confused and unhappy when she saw how much her husband enjoyed it.” [From "The Kiss," A 50th Anniversary Lecture -- The Kinsey Institute; October 24, 1998.]

You don’t see open kissing in the Bollywood (Indian Hindi) movies. Not because it would be considered disgusting, but because good girls don’t go around kissing strange men and actresses need to take care of their reputation. You may remember the fuss about Richard Gere kissing actress Shilpa Shettyin AIDS awareness rally. And he just kissed her face. Many Indians considered this incident vulgar. Some of the protesters shouted “death to Shilpa Shetty.”

When attitudes are this serious, one understands why kissing is not popular as it is not cultural norm to kiss others than family members. Yet kissing itself is known in Hindu tradition and it acknowledges at least 40 different ways of kissing, but as Prakash Javadekar, the spokesman of the nationalist Hindu party said: “Such a public display is not part of Indian tradition.”

The question comes even more difficult, when one reads about Pakistani religious leaders getting anoyed not about a kissing(which by the way cannot be shown in local television), but because one of the Pakistani Muslim actresses had kissed a Hindu actor in a Bollywood film. Suddenly what was a question of propriety turns to question of religion. Yet kissing is not prohibited in Islam and I’ve understood the Prophet Muhammad kissed his wives. Yet again as any other part of romantic behaviour this is not allowed in public.

Man kisses woman in the altar after western wedding ceremony. Many don’t see that the origin of the ritual was less romantic and more religious. Traditionally man first kissed religious object and then forward its blessing to his wife whit the kiss. Also southern European greeting kiss relates to catholic kiss of peace between parishioners.

Yet somewhere on the way this religious kissing turned more romantic. Gentlemen started to kiss hands of the ladies, because open kissing was not propriet among couples in love. This maybe due to idea of dangerousness of kissing. Unlike in the East we don’t find kisses repulsive, but instead dangerously tempting. I just red some one to blog about, what leads to cheating and (s)he agreed that kissing starts it.

Tiefer also talked about the dangerous kiss in his lecture. He described the western lore about the kisses that made wrong people to fall in love together (like Romeo and Juliet) or were a vessels of betrayal. Kisses were seen potent in messing people’s sensibilities. He saw kissing as a bonding instrument, just like most women do. It is modern folklore that prostitutes don’t kiss because of this; kissing would make them more emotionally vulnerable and used.

Few Links:

Kissing Explained (for teens)

How Kissing Works

One evening I got a call from a short of cousin of mine I’d not seen for some years, He was in the city and wanted to drink one bear. It did not feel comfortable from the beginning. It was strangest meeting ever.

I think he was not sober when I met him. I kept saying that I have early start next day and must go to home soon. He kept telling me about, how he had problems with his boss. We used to play as kids and he used to tease me and scare me. I sensed there was some kind of problem, but we are not that close that I’d dared to ask. I did not know what he wanted. I still don’t.

I left before midnight and even that was far too late for me. I don’t know what guardian angel told me to time my phone for the silent mode for the night. He had called three times. I don’t really know what to do. Should I tell her sister or should I just keep silent. There is nobody else I could tell, as I don’t want to tell tales to his wife. I wonder if they had some problem in the marriage.

He asked me if I had a boyfriend. I just smiled little embarrassed about being spinster. He made conclusion that I had and I did not deny it. I was kind of relieved as I could not have lied intentionally. He has never before been interested. I felt very uncomfortable. I felt I should never have gone out with him. By part of me considered him as my childhood pal. Yet I should learn I cannot no more think so. I have too blue eyes with men sometimes.

At the end I cant believe it was not as innocent I’d wanted. I promised myself it was the last time… Part of me wants to think that he was just lonely and wanted to talk with some one, part think that evening as a huge mistake on my part. I feel myself as too free lady.

To continue yesterdays theme: there are several rather immature things both women and men do in relationships. I don’t grant neither sex freedom of fault in this field. I don’t mean everybody are immature – I mean only that far too many of us are. (I have learned lately to include myself in this category).

I had just arrived Italy first time and had probably the first real conversation with Italian girls (we were not yet women). One of the first comments was that Italian men really never grow up. Later I have to agree whit them. Italian men are passed from “mamma” to spouse and petting continues. And “mamma” is always there as long as she lives. Yet I have met immature men – and women – among other nationalities as well. Affairs of these Italian couples seemed to me often like teenage courtship.

There is a film called “Failure to Launch” that describes men, who stay at their homes post normal age. What is normal varies from country to another. In my home country we mature early and I left home at the age of 19. Many Italians live with their families past 29 – often for the economical reasons. And you can notice it. I felt they were so young.

Yet moving out of your home is only part of maturing. I’ve met several men – and also women – who are looking for someone, who takes charge of their life. They believe it would be easier. There are men looking for “strong” women and women looking for “strong” men. I’ve known these guys and have had them as friends. Sometimes afterwards I’ve followed their marriage from further and been thinking are they so happy now. But there are girls too whose actions I don’t completely understand.

I’ve been occasionally in the situation, where I’ve been offered to be the general of a relationship.  I’ve more or less said no thanks.  Yet I’ve been looking for the muddy waters of my own motives and I have to say that I am not yet on the clear waters either. I have to admit that it would be nice if some one would stand for me in those affairs I find so difficult to handle. But this is not really what the relationship is really for.

Yet I don’t mean that relationship would require total independence or that we should not look for the support from the partner, but rather than we should not look for saviour or somebody to make decisions for us.

Worst moment in my spinster “career” was when I hit 24  – the traditional age of spinsterhood in my culture. I felt I needed to find a man, right there – right then, and it led me in short of trouble. (I had a male friend, who got the same panic at the age of 25, but did not wake up and ended up married, and I’m not very sure, how happy he is now. Last time I saw him he was missing his lost youth).

My moment of desperation lasted few months in that spring, then it was over. Men can smell desperation, I suppose, so nobody was interested in me, while I panicked. I was interested in any kind of reasonable guys.

I learned my lesson soon afterwards, when I found out a lot of uninteresting guys dangling after me. I had given them come on, while I panicked, and they followed it, after they could feel my desperation was lifted.

O’boy was I in trouble – and could only blame myself, because I had let these guys on. I am nice girl and don’t want to hurt anybody, but unintentionally, because my silliness, ended up doing exactly that. It was good lesson. Never been desperate since.

It seems common knowledge that men (universally) prefer blonds. Blonder the hair, lighter the skin, more blue the eyes – the better, right? My experience on the issue is varied …

The definition of being blond is what varies. In Italy I was a blond, “biondo” like they say. I lived in a industrial city of about 0,5 million citizen and very few passing tourists, and about 10 blonds in total (I may slightly execrate, but not much.) Boy was I success. Even in Rome men tended to flirt me and tell me I was beautiful.

In Scandinavia I am nothing special. There I am just an average girl, whit medium blond hair, nothing special. They don’t even call me blond. You must be lighter to be called blond. Only platinum blonds are considered true blonds. And besides, because blond is so common, some men prefer brunettes, just for variety.

One Scandinavian bloke, I used to know, thought he liked brunettes. He went to live in Italy, in this city, where almost everybody had either dark brown or black hair. Do you know what happened? He started to prefer blonds, just like most of the Italian guys.

I just took a walk in one sunny spring day. I was wearing brown jeans, greenish suede jacket and flat shoes, and my hair was in a knot. I had classes and did not feel a bit sexy. It was disaster. Most men I passed that day were drooling after me. One guy’s jaw literary dropped. I did not think that was really possible, I thought you only see that in cartoons. I was wrong.

I got huge amount of compliments and it was good for spirit, but was it fun? Later on it was not. I had got tired by it already by that spring day. I can now understand, why beauties and famous people go on holding nose a bit up. You grew quickly tired of all the attention. People used to think me little rude, because I did not notice them in the street. I walk in my dreams / own toughts even usually and then even more due to cultural pressure and the amount of attention.

The title of this article is by the way a movie quote. It is from movie “How to Loose a Guy in 10 Days”. Kate Hudson says it, when she describes silly female magazine articles. My answer is, that it depends on your definition of fun. If you want attention, became pretty blond. But don’t expect to be taken seriously. And expect to get more harassment.

It seems obligatory to write something about Valentine. What I am truly happy about is that it is not so big deal where I am staying. Don’t you just hate these artifical couple or family days? I think it is already early morning at Valentine’s somewhere in the world so I may publish this now.

I have always tought this kind you have to buy a card to be true friend or lover are annoying. It would be much more meaningful to remember people in spontanious ways. Like if my potential husband once walks trough the door with a bucket of tulips in a totally ordinary day, I might be at least as happy as if he would buy me roses at valentines or our anniversary.

It seems that these days are designed by some imp to make people feel bad. The spinster, the unlucky unhappy married people, widows and such. It is like a constant reminder of your situation. It is almost like throwing ash over you or walking on needles. Do you believe, that is just what I and most other single masochist have been so looking for.

I wonder how people who just lost their parent feel about the mothers- and fathersdays. And how about the parents that have lost children? Does anybody think how they feel. I wonder if these people try to barricade themselves in their homes to not to see all the comercials.

And it is even worst for single people, who basically have to go out to socialise. So the choise will be staying in and feel the walls falling in or go out and feel, sorry for my sordid expression, shit. I am not against the people celebrating those events, what I am against is comercial carbage that comes from every direction and is no where to run from.

The original story of St. Valentine, a Roman marthyr, does not contain hearts and romantics. A bit of emotion in it is fathers consern of daughter in jail. The Idea of Valentine’s day comes from ancient Roman fertility feast Lupercalia (of February 15th), that has been (artificially) repeated till modern day. The most traditions were initiated in medival Britain and France and connected to court love.

Here in the protestant north it is luckily not really celebrated in large sense. That leaves us freedom to do as we please. Although I have admit that my parents got engaged at st. Valentines. I think it must have been idea of my fathers, who might have been more affected by European Catholic culture.

Read this: Be Your Own Valentine

Great Valentine eCards to Send to All Your Single Girlfriends

For unleashing agression, thanks to stephanieontour some anti-Valentine cards.

And here list of some more anti-Valentine links.

And one good and professional anti-Valentine page from GB.
And here is even discussion forum for those, who like to express feelings.
Put please, they are comercialising even this, even if the point was the opposite.