Grandma, grandpa, parents, young and old ..What do they have in common?

The word love- as in lovers. There are more lovers in this world than not.  It's a uniting force that has sustained humanity.  Do you love some one?  Research tells us we say nicer things to stranger than the person we love, because we count on their unconditional love.  Today, tell that person how much they matter to you. Say something to rock their world.  Today I have summoned a paragraph for my love. . . How 'bout you?    

Can Friends Become Lovers? Tell me. . .

Can they?  It happens more than we know it.  When you notice they are better looking than you thought, it's working.  When you are happy just seeing them, i'ts working. Comfortable together? It's working.  Research tells us that the mere exposure effect makes us sink into happiness when we see a familiar face, a loved one or an accepting friend. In spite of on-line dating,  more romances happen when faced with a familiar face.  And it keeps love going.  Happy couples relish seeing one another.  Have you had this experience?    

The Smallest Penis . .

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/10/12/smallest-penis-contest_n_1962514.html

  Yes, there is a small penis contest.  Can I enter a Gorilla? The king of the harem comes in at a whopping 2-3 cm--or the size of a cigarette butt.

You can possibly win an iPhone or ipad if you have the smallest erect penis -in Denmark.  The average penis is 5.5 inches and there is a lot of variety out there.  The cocky collaborators of this stunt think that it will open dialogue for men who thinks they don't measure up. From a scientific point almost all women are completely satisfied with their partner's size but almost all men think they don't measure up. And boy do they obsess over it, spending millions on pills, stretchers and pullers--none of which work.  But men have good reason to think this way.  The only erections they see are on porn sites and there is just no market for the average.  And science tells us something else men should know--when women love them, they love all of them, tiny, teensy, bent, crooked, blue, pink, dark.  It only makes me wonder what other crazy things we can dream and scheme up. 

   

 

The Love Lost Generation: The Problem with On-line dating and all that Choice.

The Love Lost Generation:  The Problem with On-line Dating and Choice.   

Love-lost genration?  Sadly we are more confused than ever.  Our cave life made it all much simpler. A hundred possbile dates?  Are you kidding?

 GF Becca calls.  Disgusted with on-line dating- too much time, too much work, too little results.  Is she alone?  Hardly. The industry calls it "one of the best tools," but unfortunately our cave brains see it as a massive stimulus overload.  You just have too many choices!  It might seem great to have hundreds of potential matches but then again our mind plays some tricks with all that information.  First, it gives us a false sense of confidence that we are in more control than we are.  Then we make the next mistake, thinking we have control we maximize our pay-off.  So when Becca saw Tom, a heart surgeon who took a liking to her pic, she chose him—Not for nothing but Becca is a cocktail waitress and wouldn't know an artery from an arterial. 

What she doesn’t know is that our brains get irritated when we are faced with too much choice.  Oh how we hate to be wrong, indecisive and leave tings to chance.  So she makes her contact.   Now her brain decides to screw her over again—she becomes convinced they are destined.  She goes back to his profile and works over all the reasons they are a couple.  We call it post-decision dissonance and without all the science gab, it's a way that we make ourselves feel better after we make a choice.  We feel more confident.  Those dating sites know this.  They know you might do all the things that Becca did and that's why they give you certain information and then smack it with a percentage.  He was 97% her match.  For the next day she read, reread and presumed that they had everything in common.   Now effort- justification kicks in.  What's that?  It's when we amp up our confidence that our efforts are well-justified.  After all, she spent two solid days filling our questionnaires and another weekend responding to questions and queries.  Our minds don't like to think our efforts are worthless and Becca was absolutely convinced that there was a pay-off in there for her.  Of course her mind filled in all the gaping pot-holes in her path—after all with hundreds of choices and a 97% match, what could go wrong? Plenty. 

The date was a disaster.  He, like 67% of men use on-line dating as a hook-up tool.  After plying her with gin he proceeded to tell her about his other vein—She bolted from the restaurant. 

But even if that last scenario didn't happen all that choice lends us to experience some big disappointment. So what can you do?  First you just learned something about how thinking can undermine our efforts.  However in the next weeks  I'll set out some great rules that can help in maximizing on-line dating efforts. 

 For more information:   Online Dating: A Critical Analysis From the  Perspective of Psychological Science, by Eli J. Finkel, Paul W. Eastwick, Benjamin R. Karney, Harry T. Reis, and Susan Sprecher

Men, Women, Relationships,Relationships, Sex, Orgasm and Showing Him How - a Mini Blog

You have to teach him and show him what you need- don't expect him to know it himself, say's Dr. Ruth and Dr. Dawn.
http://www.hlntv.com/video/2012/08/29/dr-ruth-show-your-man-what-you-need
You need to show him, without words, what to do. It's pussy-tale boot camp and the subject is your clitoris and vagina. Seems so intuitive, but it's not. Women often say nothing and do nothing, and men, well alot of you have had some poor training, because no one has told you or you think you know. It's up to women to take charge. Now for this mini blog I'll go a step further; satisfy yourself in front of him (that comes-no pun intended- from Dr. Ruth)   I'm sure he'll agree and do the same.    Show him what you like. If you are apprehensive, well, drink a few glasses of wine first and in the morning blame it on the Pinot Noir. Dr. Dawn Hopper

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder- Especially When You're in Front of the Mirror

Beauty matters. It took mother to remind me of this—she’s 87.  Seems like all the years trying to get her to look at the computer were in vain—it  was her vanity that took her to the mouse in search of a lipstick she had to have—hers was on its last lick.   She sat all afternoon savoring www.beautynewsnyc.com, in my construction-zone of a house while my husband hammered away above us.  She never noticed--him in his short shorts or the pounding.  Mesmerized by pages of beauty tips and news she finally broke the spell and spoke. 

“Beauty matters,” said. 

All of a sudden I wondered if she thought I’d forgotten; in 90 +  degree weather, putting a new roof on ourWoodstock house, I nixed the make-up and hair for a week—my bare ass hadn’t seen the shower either.  “Mom, of course I know it matters.”  She sensed my concern.

“No, I don’t mean you, I mean you psychologists—you know, they think it all comes from inside.  You can’t forget that no one likes the gift that comes in a brown paper bag.” She laughed and added, “We all need a little gift wrap.”

How right she is.  Beauty is not a nasty word; it influences what other’s think of us and what we think of us.  I’m not talking about ravishing beauty, I’m not talking about obsessive beauty—everyone is beautiful; we need to take pleasure in enhancing our appearance  A refined face belies a refined person.  Sure we judge books by their covers; are you supposed to read the damn thing standing at the bookshelf?  Taking care of our outer self is very crucial—one of the first signs of depression is a lack of regard for one’s beauty.  Have you ever left the hair dressers feeling on top of the world?  Sure you have.  My grandmother would practically hop and skip on the sidewalk after—and she left with a purple head.  Did you know the hottest selling female product in recessions is lipsticks and beauty products—why? Oh, how great we feel with a new face.  

There I sat, on wood floors heaved from the rain that in puddles while I was dining in Italy, staring up at  a hole in my roof that now revealed the big dipper, while watching the dollar bills being transformed into plywood, shingles and sheet rock.  I went into the bathroom to see what I could scrap off of my cruddy mosquito bitten body and see what I could scrape up—in the make-up department.  I spied it on the sink.  Mom had left her prized lipstick, nearly dead, but just enough so I could feel like kissing my misery away, with my construction foreman, who wanted to fiddle, but not on the roof.  Thanks mom.  

Italy is for Lovers

Apologies for my absence but I have been getting fodder from my travels.  Yes, I was in Italy exploring the world of sex and love, food and wine and vista's and scenery with my husband David.  ans our college age son, Matthew. All of those I listed are aphrodisiac's in one way or another.  You can't help feeling sexy after devouring plates o mushrooms, stretching mozzarella with your teeth, while sitting on a terrace overlooking a castello. The Italians know this; there are condom vending machines even next to the Vatican. Even in the small Village my family lives in, the condom machine is mounted on a wall in the piazza.  From our window, during the last week of our stay I kept count of all the local lovers, whose twist of the handle caused a ratchet sound which echoed off our walls.  I counted 52 in one night, and that is in a village of 350.  Then there is the wine.    

Italy is wasted on beer drinkers.  Wine is truly the best Viagra. After a bottle I felt sinfully sexy, nixed any idea of plastic surgery.  I began fluffing my hair, batting my mascaraed eyes and speaking with a slight Italian accent to my suave husband, in his fedora and banana hammock- by the private pool at our rental. Actually I bribed him to wear my black jockey microfiber hipsters.  Yes I did and as soon as I can bribe him for the photo evidence it will be posted.  Anyway, David agreed about the wine thing, said it was an airbrush.  I was insulted because he never noticed I shaved my legs and prepped (you know what I mean) for our adventure.  My kid noticed it.  "Look," he exclaimed. "Mom shaved!"

We went with our two best buddies, Cristiana and Laurie and their kids- they noticed our absences a couple times a day.  But Matt shared our room.  Of course it was really hard and we couldn't act on all our impulses with him in the next bed.  By the way, I did mean that pun and if you don't get it re-read the last sentence.  Nevertheless, the car, shower, rolling hills of Tuscany, my aunts bathroom and the swimming pool all provided opportunities. Wine loosens tongues and bras, lubricates the mind and opens up all sorts of fantasy.  We had a ball.  Best of all, the night I found him in the bathroom showering, and slipped in, telling him I was a hooker, from Rome, I blamed on the bottle of Chianti the following morning.

My theory is this: The test of a great relationship is the vacation.  If you can leave the stress of life behind, devour the pleasures of their company, enjoy, your relationship is sound.  We came home soo happy....  Oh, have I told you all the things Italians do with olive oil?

I missed you-  Dr. Dawn Marlena Hopper. ..or Donatella ...my new name.
Tell me about your love holidays- ---