As if you needed every excuse in the book to have sex, researchers at the University of Texas at Austin are here to help. According to their latest study of 1,549 undergraduate students (at that age don’t you just have sex for the experience sometimes?) the top reasons for doing it involved attraction and pleasure. What I’m more interested in is the less attractive reasons for doing it, and yes, there were many.

Giving someone else an STI (sexually transmitted infection) ranked high on my list of absolutely, positively heinous reasons for having sex with anyone, but so did “I wanted to break up a rivals relationship by having sex with his/her partner.” Of course these two are on the list of infrequently used reasons, but still the fact that they’re being used at all makes me want to shake some people silly.

I love the shallow but honest reasons like he/she was too physically attractive to resist, or she/he had a nice body. Or the other motivational ones like I wanted to get a raise/job/promotion and the person had a lot of money.

You can read the rest of the excuses people have for having sex here (it’s a PDF so it will download).

Me? I’m going to watch the IFC’s Indie Sex mini-series. It starts tomorrow at midnight, but I have a preview copy, and no cable, and therefore I’ll report and you decide. I promise. I’ll at least watch the first show “Censorship” and let you know what I think.

by Jamye Waxman

my feet

My first time (intercourse) was premeditated. It was actually my second attempt at my first time, the first attempt having been thwarted by a few too many vodka and orange juices. (It was the first time I drank, and drank I did

My boyfriend had a plan and so I agreed to be a part of it. You can hear the outcome of that plan here (it’s in the form of a podcast). Discussing a recent (if one month ago = recent) symposium we both attended on sacred sexuality here in NYC (the group wasn’t limited to NYC) Jonathan and I discuss the different approaches and personalities that are quickly rising to the forefront of this blended movement, not to be confused with, but not altogether different than a blended orgasm. I do feel that there was one integral couple left out of the discussion, but otherwise it was a pretty varied, interesting group of mainly women. I could sound a wee bit happier on the podcast - next time I’ll remember to smile when I speak - but if you’re looking for a quick overview of who’s moving and shaking in the sacred sex world- check out what we’ve got to say.

This past week has reminded me of the importance, and added value, of using pillows during sex. Not only did it make the sex better and make me more versatile, it helped in the kissing department as well. When I was on top, but feeling neck strain, I placed two pillows on the mattress, one in it’s regular flat position, and one folded in half on top of that pillow, and could easily kiss my boyfriend while laying on top of him. Plus, during missionary sex, pillows gave me the extra lift to move my legs and butt in more than the usual ways. I forget to put the pillows down sometimes, but I think this last week is a good reminder - pillows make great sex toys.

Saturday night I got to be on stage in the play, My First Time and it was such a blast! I talked about the horrors of the hymen, how afraid I was about breaking mine (I was sure it was still pretty tightly intact) especially since I’d never rode a horse, did gymnastics or stuck a tampon up inside of me. I’m going to share the full story soon. I just want to wait for it to get published, which it will, locally, next week.

Otherwise I’m up to my ears in deadlines (good thing). I get to see the last editable manuscript for my book today (the PDF looks awesome) and I’m quoted in the August issue of Cosmo. It’s my first super-girly magazine quote that I’m aware of, and I felt a little weird buying the magazine. But I’m totally stoked to be in cosmo, even if my quote is short and to the point. I’m on page 113 and it’s about having a signature move to please your man. Plus I have an article (Coming in America) in the August issue of Zink Magazine (p. 118).

And now I’m off to do some online video stuff. Will write more soon.

It’s not really something I’d buy, well, I mean I’d have to try it if someone “gave” me one. Who thinks up this stuff?

The C String is available now, at least in England. I just love how these women, the ones in the clip chatting up the latest in underwear technology, are totally honest about the product. You rarely see that in the U.S. When a product is plugged on a show, a lot of times the people act like they love the product. That’s because they want more products, or more sponsorships or whatever..but still I can only imagine the commercial for this one:

ON SCREEN:A lady standing in the mirror, totally disappointed and stressed out. She’s looking at her tight, red dress in the mirror. She’s shaking her head furiously and trying to maneuver the side of her panties so that she can’t see them through her dress.

ANNOUNCER: Ladies. Are you tired of panties with too much material? Have you ever been embarrassed by over the top panty lines and visbile stringage?

ON SCREEN SHOT: Shot of another lady. This time she’s in low ride jeans, the kind that show crack and back, and she is chatting on her cell phone, outside of a coffee shop or movie theater. She keeps playing with her “embarrassing” straps - trying to make them less visible. The irony here is her ass crack is still totally exposed.

ANNOUNCER: Did you ever wish you could get rid of the embarrasing lines you’re panties leave when you wear skintight dresses or low ride jeans? Well it’s time to stop fretting and start getting - with this program. You don’t need to go to the gym anymore to avoid those embarrassing fat roles that can form over the top of your panty straps. You don’t need to worry about how much strap you’re showing, even if your shirt is too high and your pants are too low. You don’t have to worry about anything panty anymore.

ON SCREEN: A lady clad in bikini top and C string bottom tramples through a meadow of tall grass. Her long, auburn hair is gently moving from side to side and she is smiling. She is absolutely hairless, and emaciated, and she looks happy. Real happy.

ANNOUNCER: Meet the C String. You’re new best friend. Wear it like you would a piece of dental floss in between your cracks, and voila, no messy lines. No embarrassing straps. Nothing but a piece of fabric in between your legs. It’s the C String. And if it falls out from under your dress, just put it back in and keep on treking. Amaze family, friends and lovers with the C String.

Then, like in those zoloft commercials the announcer says, rather quickly:

ANNOUNCER: Not safe for work, for people who don’t wax, men or small children. For best results, do not use this product with other panty products.

It sort of feels like I’ve crawled under a rock for the past two weeks, but the truth is, I was on a rock - well an island that was made mostly of rock, off the coast of Maine. What a fantastic week it was. I left the computer home, didn’t get cell reception and decided it was time to become one with nature. I saw snakes, seals and dolphins. I took hikes, read, caught up with friends, drank, slept, didn’t sleep, played games and thought little about from whence I came. Getting back at the moment when Saturday became Sunday (that would be my poetic way of saying midnight) I thought I would slowly become one again with the city, take a day to relax back into the big city life thing, only things don’t often go as planned. And right now lots of mushy goodness is happening way too fast for me to slowly merge back in with my former self. And while I know this is a good thing, sometimes I forget to handle it as such.

I started to talk with my therapist about this yesterday. As an aside, I find it odd and rather fascinating that it’s cool to go to therapy, like it’s totally the in thing to do. If you don’t have a therapist, then you have a problem. Okay, not always, but it’s so interesting how therapy is this thing lots of people are proud of. Maybe it’s because you’re admitting that you’re working on yourself, and you acknowledge that you have faults, and that you’re a bigger person than someone who doesn’t admit that they’re not perfect. Or maybe you’re not a bigger person, and maybe someone who doesn’t go to therapy still knows they have faults too, but maybe they know how to handle them without help. Even if you’re not in therapy now, if you’ve ever been, then you know that it’s emotionally beneficial to work on yourself with the help of an objective, total stranger.

Whatever.

So yesterday I tell my therapist about all these great things going on, like:

1. I get to see the completed copy of my book, before its officially “final”, sometime this week - and it’s going to look soooo good (at least that’s my projection/prediction). Did I mention that Betty Dodson wrote my foreword?
2. My first movie is in its final approval stages, and it is F-U-N!!!
3. I’m making a guest appearance this Saturday night in an off Broadway show called My First Time (it’s at the New World Stages on W. 50th St.). It’s name basically says it all, and after the show I’ll be on stage dishing the dirt about my first time. Sadly, it’s not all that funny, but I’ll try to find a way to spice it up. If you wanna see me, but pretend you don’t know I’m there cause it’s sort of a surprise, then you can buy tickets, and what not, at the My First Time website. If you don’t want to see me, or can’t make it on Saturday night, you can still see the show without me.
4. I’m about to become a sexpert for a soon-to-be-launched show on Cherry TV.

And, in talking to my therapist, I realized that while I need to enjoy all these moments, I find myself clinging to the anxiety, and not the joy, of having the experience. It’s the space I’m used to going to. The dread, the negativity, the scarcity of it all. Of getting it all done. So I’m going to start yoga, and even find my own form of meditation, so that I can really enjoy the ride, and not just live through it. That would be such a shame. This is, after all, my life. My dream. My time.