Keira-anne.com

Earlier this year, I let my lust do the typing and presented you all with a delicious list of men that my fiddle fancies. Unfortunately, there isn’t always room for everyone on that list, and the list itself may not appeal to everyone. Lucky for me, my tastes vary and I certainly don’t discriminate. Most of the men I pointed to were under 40 and rather typical of womanly crushes. It’s time to flip that and acquaint you with those over 40 who get me revved up. Be cautioned: before I go any further, don’t expect to see Brad Pitt or George Clooney pop up in this post.

This one’s for the underdogs…

Colin Firth (47)

Photo: Jim Wright/Montage for People

Often by-passed for the likes of Clive Owen and Hugh Grant, “Mr. Darcy” has an appeal all his own. Without being mysterious or badass, Colin Firth proves that you can still be a gentleman and sexy at the same time. As a matter of fact, I can even forgive him for the hideous jumpers he wore in Bridget Jones’s Diary.

Denis Leary (50)

Photo: Art Streiber/Montage for People

Ask me ten years ago what I thought of Denis Leary and my answer would’ve been less than favourable. Today, it’s a different story. While it’s anyone’s guess what he’s like in real life, his turn as firefighter Tommy Gavin on FX’s Rescue Me has him playing an Irish alcoholic bad-boy without much remorse just ups the sex appeal ante. Twisted? Sure. But I’m not the only one who agrees.

Dean Winters (43)

Photo: FX/Martin Cook for Yahoo! TV

Let’s be honest for a moment here: no one is going to remember Dean Winters as a phenomenal actor. Truth be told, he’s almost painful to watch on Rescue Me, but on HBO’s Oz, it’s as if his single-faceted style of acting was tailor made for the part of “Ryan O’Reily.” It’s that Irish bad-boy thing again - plus his alpha male nature - that makes this girl swoon. Oh and for anyone that’s seen Oz in its entirety, Mr. Winters’ appendage ain’t bad either. Jen knows what I’m talking about.

Sean Penn (47)

Photo: United Nations - Cuba

Can I get a bad-boy intervention here? Notorious in the 80s as Madonna’s husband for his brawling and belligerent ways, it seems as though married life to Robin Wright Penn has tamed the beast. A man with as much talent as Sean possesses will forever be sexy, but what I appreciate most (other than his passion for humane causes), is the tiny glint of Jeff Spicoli that still shines in his eyes from time to time.

Keanu Reeves (43)

Photo: MMB

Ah, my love…my long-time love. Since the days that he, Bill and their cohort of historical figures totally rocked San Dimas High School in 1989, I was charmed. Though there are others who hold a spot in their hearts for Keanu as I do, he tends to get a bad rap for some reason. Let’s all get over it (and forget that The Matrix ever happened), because his perfectly chiselled face and everything mysterious about him secure his spot in my over 40 list. And much like my husband-to-be, who missed out on this list by only a year, Keanu’s voice is one that would simply slay you were you to hear it in the dark.

Dougray Scott (42)

Photo: ABC/Bob D’Amico for Yahoo! TV

Nope, I don’t watch Desperate Housewives. I first caught on to the charm that is Dougray back in the late 90s in Ever After, in which he played Prince Charming (appropriately enough) to Drew Barrymore’s Cinderella-like character. His sweet demeanour and hasty abandon for following the life expected for him made my heart go “ga-gung.”

Patrick Swayze (55)

Photo: Unknown Source/Archival Image

I couldn’t have asked for a better segue myself. This guy’s got the solid lockdown on many a girl’s hearts, quite literally, around the globe. Though he’s made some stinker flop films (Ghost not included), Patrick need not worry because Dirty Dancing’s Johnny Castle could quite possibly go down as the greatest lover in cinematic history. You know you dreamed about being Baby at one point or another in your life.

Powers Boothe (60)

Photo: HBO

And last, but certainly not least, the man who inspired this post altogether. Being the oldest in the list, he’s certainly the grand-daddy of them all (pun not intended – I swear). Surely I’ve seen him in other roles, but this man’s taken the cake only recently. It was his role on HBO’s Deadwood as Cy Tolliver, the powerful owner of the high-end whorehouse, the Bella Union Saloon, in which his dominant and sexually-charged character appealed to the submissive within your humble narrator. I’ve already said too much. I simply cannot get enough of him.

Hmmm…maybe it’s just the moustache.

For quite some time now - probably close to a year - I’ve had several requests from readers to write an entirely shallow post, highlighting men in the spotlight that I think are the most bone-a-licious. Funny how something so seemingly easy to write about has taken me this long to finally getting my booty around to actually doing.

So, without further adieu, I present to you ten men who wouldn’t have to ask me twice to hop on top. They are, in no particular order…

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Who: Malcolm McDowell (only circa 1968-1975)

Where You Know Him From: If…, A Clockwork Orange, Caligula

Why He Makes Me Weak: One only needs to look at the one-two punch of his arched eyebrow combined with the curl of his lip. It instantly causes me to wonder about all the naughty things he’s thinking that he’d like to be doing to a girl like me.
Photo: BFI UK


Who: Michael Bublé

Where You Know Him From: Burnaby, B.C.-born crooner, entertainer and lady killer

Why He Makes Me Weak: This is a man who’s seduction routine is so complete, between his looks and his smooth voice, that he doesn’t need to be calculating in the slightest - he just chooses to play that game.
Photo: All Hands On Deck



Who: Colin Farrell

Where You Know Him From: Irish actor, beer drinker and all-around badass

Why He Makes Me Weak: It took Mr. Farrell quite some time to win me over, but his take-charge attitude in everything brings out the submissive girl in me…not that it takes much, mind you.
Photo: indieWIRE



Who: Timothy Olyphant

Where You Know Him From: Sex and the City (as 20-something Sam), Catch and Release, Deadwood

Why He Makes Me Weak: When he’s not, he’s not (see Gone In 60 Seconds); but when he’s hot, he’s hot. What girl wouldn’t want to sit on the bathroom sink for him (see Catch and Release)?
Photo: Yahoo! Movies UK




Who: Lukas Haas

Where You Know Him From: Boys, Brick, 24 and Last Days

Why He Makes Me Weak: I’m a sucker for lanky guys with dark hair and always have been…plus Lukas has that whole “I’m kinda emo but super hot” thing going on. Word is, however, that he’s a modelizer so I guess I can forget about that one.
Photo: 24 Neoseeker





Who: Clive Owen

Where You Know Him From: The Bourne Identity, Children of Men, Elizabeth: The Golden Age and “The Hire” series of BMW commercials

Why He Makes Me Weak: It’s hard not to notice a man who oozes equal amounts of sex appeal, confidence and coolness…all behind the sexiest British accent I’ve ever heard (and I’m not an accent girl). Plus, have you seen those BMW commercials? Hot damn!
Photo: Publishers Weekly

Who: Kanye West

Where You Know Him From: The man behind some of the sexiest beats and flashiest videos to grace MTV’s screen since Duran Duran reigned supreme in 1983.

Why He Makes Me Weak: The man can sing, the man can dance, the man can keep a rhythm and the man can dress. I can only imagine how tasty he smells…perhaps the scents of leather, cash and glistening sweat.
Photo: People Online

Who: Ashton Kutcher

Where You Know Him From: That 70s Show, Dude…Where’s My Car?, The Butterfly Effect, The Guardian and the end of Demi Moore’s short leash

Why He Makes Me Weak: It’s that tall, lanky dark guy thing again. Plus, he has this undeniable, just-can’t-refuse boyish charm that commands pretty much anything and everything he wants. I also love it when guys are comfortable enough to be slight goofballs, so he’s definitely got that going for him.
Photo: WENN on Superior Pics

Who: Chris Noth

Where You Know Him From: He’s Mr. Freakin’ Big! Oh and he’s on that Law & Order show or whatever…

Why He Makes Me Weak: He’s the man who has won, broken and won again the heart of the one woman every other woman dreams of being (or at least dreams of owning her closet). He’s suave, charming and dare I say debonaire? Not to mention that eyebrow thing he does. There will be plenty of that. Oh yes…
Photo: Movie Snobs

Who: Leonardo DiCaprio

Where You Know Him From: This Boy’s Life, Romeo + Juliet, The Beach, Catch Me If You Can, Blood Diamond, The Departed and some movie about a big boat on the Atlantic…

Why He Makes Me Weak: Leo’s the quintessential boy-next-door. He’s sweet, courteous and definitely the kind of man you could take home to mom (as long as mom doesn’t steal him from you). However, there’s also the flipside of him that exudes bad boy. Take me home Leo, will you? Leonardo’s known to run around town with Lukas Haas and their gaggle of models so he’s another one of those “off limits” boys. But a girl can dream, right?
Photo: TeamSugar

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Other very honourable mentions:

Okay, your turn…who have I forgotten?

DOUBLE THE PLEASURE, DOUBLE THE FUN?

The concept of group sex, meaning sex between more than two people, has been practiced for almost as long as men and woman have existed. In fact, it’s something that dates back nearly 5,500 years. In many cultures, group sex and orgies were considered to be religious custom, and were an accepted and encouraged part of life. Men took many mistresses, women took many lovers and partners were seemingly swapped like baseball trading cards.

Group sex knows no boundaries, be it gay or straight, male or female. Some instances include only heterosexual encounters, while others take a more casual, ‘whatever goes’ stance. To truly characterize group sex would be next to impossible. For every person that fantasizes about it, each fantasy in itself is unlike any other.

Photo: numberstumper on Flickr

For something that has come to be practiced more widely than most might venture to guess, group sex is not without its misconceptions and negative press. Many religious and right wing groups hold the belief that any sex that is not monogamous is wrong, while some simply wish to take a “don’t ask, don’t tell” attitude and keep the canoodling behind closed doors.

Like the countless other aspects of sex, who’s to say what’s right and what’s wrong is indeterminable. It’s completely a personal choice, devoid of societal influence. By that, I mean that it’s not something that one typically tries just because everyone else is doing it, like licking up the latest and greatest ice cream flavour. For most, the issue of whether or not to leave the bedroom door open for business is fairly black and white.

Photo: El Tipo Gráfico on Flickr

While I carry no qualms with group sex, it’s not something I’ve scribbled onto my ‘to-do’ list, literally or figuratively. Though, that’s not to say that between the right people and with ample communication, it is most likely a very fulfilling experience for those that wish to do the double-team deed.

Like most people in their 20s, it’s something that at one time or another I’ve either been asked to do or asked whether or not I’d be willing to participate in it. I can’t say that the idea hasn’t intrigued me at one time or another, but were the idea to ever play out on the big screen, being the third party is undoubtedly the only way to go. Why could I never indulge in the idea while in a relationship? No, and for the single reason that seeing another person’s hands on my man, and vice versa, would no doubt induce a lethal dose of vomit and anxiety for this young devotchka.

Here’s where the fun comes in…it’s show n’ tell time. If you’re willing to share with the class, let us know your thoughts on ménage à trois and more. Where do you stand on the great group debate? Positive experiences? Negative experiences? Throw your ideas this way and let’s talk.

* Whether your current sexual situation is solo, with a partner or into the great galaxy beyond, please visit Health Canada’s Sexual Health and Promotion website for solid facts and information on safer sex. *

YOUNG GUNS

Up until the time that I was about 20-years-old, I would swear up and down that I could never, ever date a man that was younger than me. It didn’t matter if the difference was four years or four days. I had no reason other than my own stubborn self.

Ready to gasp? In school, I was not popular with the boys. I was wiry and awkward with crooked teeth and bad hair. I’d attempt to show you my seventh grade yearbook photo, but it’s been entirely blacked out by Jiffy marker, never again to be seen by my eyes. Needless to say, dating in those days was a completely foreign concept to me. The boys I always crushed on never crushed back and I, in turn, was crushed.

Fast forward a handful of years to my early 20s. Suddenly the ugly duckling had turned into the not-too-shabby swan, and I soon realized the power of my aesthetic prowess. The kinds of men boys who at one time had ignored me were now turning their heads. Being the not-so-dim devotchka that I am, it didn’t take me long to figure out how to re-direct this new-found powerful charm.

Photo: Lady, That’s My Skull on Flickr, with self-edit

I can be honest and admit to you all that I waited until I was in my 20s to trade in my V-Card for a lifetime pass to the Museum of I Can Breathe Now That I Won’t Die A Virgin. What was most interesting to me, being how stubborn I had been about ageism in the past, was that the very man boy man that popped my proverbial cherry was four years younger than me.

I had known him for a few years, and was as high as a kite off the fact that he was so completely enamoured with me. His pursuit lasted years before I finally gave in and gave up the goods. Though the power shifted as soon as the condom was slipped onto his pink perfection, the power I felt up until that moment was practically intoxicating. I won’t lie; the first time (and pretty much every other time) didn’t last very long, but the enthusiasm and energy more than made up for quick comings (pun intended).

Photo: Lady, That’s My Skull on Flickr

Just like Christmas music, delicious new beauty products and applewood smoked cheddar cheese, humping younger guys is a slippery slope. Getting pistol whipped by such a young gun can become the only prescription required for long-ago rejection (yes, I said rejection). However, it doesn’t necessarily have to be the thrill of actually landing a younger guy that satisfies…

I have a weakness for men who ride boards, be it skate, snow or surf. First off, it’s just badass. Second, there’s something inexplicable about that “I just don’t give a fuck” attitude that makes me weak in the knees. Even if they live in their mama’s basement and work at Westbeach, it still works for me. That being said, so very satisfying is walking by a small group of young men with their boards, and knowing that with a playful arch of my eyebrow or slight licking of my lips, I’ve secured a top spot in their spank banks for a minimum of a week. The signs are obvious.

Do you know how flustered they become? And do you know how freakin’ amazing that makes me feel?

So, perhaps it’s taboo for me to be as interested in younger men as I am from time-to-time. I can be honest…it’s not about having a relationship. For many it is. And should it be any different for a guy to be with a girl five years younger than for a girl to be with a guy who’s five years younger? The logistics of this are endless, so coin your two cents in my direction.

P.S. Alright, kids…you’re off your leashes. Now anything goes in the comment section. If you need to comment anonymously, fill your boots. Tame = lame.

LOVE THYSELF

It’s been two long, dreary, rainy weeks, but I am finally back (and a day early too!) with another edition of Wanton Wednesdays. Let’s cut to the chase because the WW train is about to pull into Masturbation Station.

You’re blushing already, aren’t you?

I do realize that in writing this article, I run the risk of my mother never again looking me in the eye, but what can I say? Consider yourself warned, Katrina.

Last night, as Becky and I were frantically running around downtown Vancouver, being the woman that I am I decided it would be best if we multi-tasked. I waited at my landlord’s suite door to get a parking pass, and I instructed Becky to go down to my suite to answer the phone and let Amy inside if she buzzes my front door. I jingled the keys into her hand and sent her towards the elevator.

“Oh…ahhh…my phone is on my nightstand. But, um, just to warn you, my vibrator’s probably on my nightstand too.”

And with that one little v-word, I saw Becky’s eyes bulge out a little bit, somewhat in shock and somewhat in amusement. Probably somewhat in embarrassment too. However, generally speaking, is it all that shocking, amusing or embarrassing?

Photo courtesy of flyzipper on Flickr

“99 percent of men of all ages masturbate regularly and the other one percent are liars.” - Sue Johanson, Canadian sex educator and counselor

Who among you can say you don’t engage in a little bit of self-lovin’ on a regular or semi-regular basis? Most everyone has attempted it at one point or another in their lives. In fact, a whopping 98% of adults reported having done so [source]. It should also come as no surprise that the age at which girls dance the She-Bop or guys polish their bayonets for the first time is somewhere in the mid-teens [source]. Keep in mind that the average age of 15 is only the age to which people are admitting - it would seem likely that self-discoveries are made at much, much younger ages. In fact, one astonishing thing I learned in the numerous child psychology courses I’ve taken is that most of these self-discoveries happen long before children even enter grade school. (Though keep in mind that at such an age, the act is not correlated as something sexual in nature).

“The only thing about masturbation to be ashamed of is doing it badly.” - Sigmund Freud

If the statistics aren’t lying, then it can be easily agreed on that double-clicking one’s own mouse is something that’s a very real part of the lives of the vast majority of people you know (yes, even you). So why the stigma around masturbation?

If we share a fantastic (or even less-than-stellar) sexual experience with someone else, we usually end up discussing it with our friends. Maybe I’m generalizing there - I doubt men get into the nitty gritty with each other as much as us women do. (Correct me if I’m wrong with that one, fellas.)

If we share a fantastic (and always stellar) sexual experience with ourselves, we tell no one. I don’t see what the difference is. Granted one event is solo, but aren’t they both equally intimate?

Perhaps some of the shame lies with the fact that it’s never really been something that’s openly discussed as being okay. At a young age, when I first discovered it myself, I was absolute and positively convinced that I was the only person on the face of the planet engaging in such “disgraceful” behavior and that it was very, very wrong. It was never something I learned about and never something I was taught that it was okay to do. In fact, it wasn’t until I came upon the ripe age of 18 that I finally felt comfortable with it at all. I’ve long said that education is one of the strongest suits we can hold in the game of life, and I believe the same is especially true of our own bodies.

“Don’t knock masturbation, it’s sex with someone I love.” - Woody Allen

Oddly enough, for one of the oldest aspects to human sexuality, it seems as though masturbation is one dirty little secret that is still locked up in so many closets. I’m very interested to know how many of you are really even willing to discuss this hot button topic, being as I’m sure it’s very private for more than a handful of my blog’s readers. For those of you who are bursting at the seams to share with the class, here are some questions for thought:

Why do you feel there is such a huge stigma around the topic of masturbation?

Is this aspect of your sex life something you’re fairly private about or something that comes up often in conversation?

Don’t let me stop you there - this is one topic that could go anywhere or stay in one place. Just don’t forget the disclaimer…

* In commenting, please be aware that comment moderation is strictly enforced. All IP addresses are recorded, and any comments of a malicious, slandering, or otherwise inappropriate nature will be instantly deleted and the user blocked. Everyone on here should feel free to discuss, debate, ask and share in a safe manner. Let’s keep this SFO (Safe For the Office) *

So much to write, so little time. Let’s get started, shall we?

Just in case you didn’t catch it the first time or heard about it through Becky, here’s your reminder that tonight is the first night of free ridin’ at Mount Seymour for all the lovely ladies. Simply pick up your voucher (as Amy and I already have) at any of the participating locations, strap on your board and shred!

Guys’ Night Out, in support of breast cancer research with the BC Cancer Foundation, is happening Monday nights through to March 24, 2008. Visit Mount Seymour’s website for more details.

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A little while back, I made mention about my new-found love for easy listening radio. My station of choice is 104.9 Clear FM, and with that switch to a new radio station, I found myself falling for the music of Michael Bublé. You can imagine my excitement when I found out he was playing at GM Place in January. You can imagine my disappointment when I found out that all the tickets were gone before I’d even heard of the show.

Photo courtesy of Moadh on Flickr

It wasn’t long, however, before Clear FM announced that they’d have a few tickets for the show to give away. Since converting Amy into both a Clear FM listener and a solid Bublé fan, her and I both decided to use our tens of thousands of Clear Rewards points to purchase entries in the contest for tickets.

The winners were announced today.

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Looking for something a little saucy to entertain you this weekend? It’s once again time for ‘Taboo: The Naughty But Nice Sex Show‘ at Canada Place in Vancouver. Now that the Christmas trees and twinkling lights are packed away, vendors from all over haul out their stashes of condoms, oils, lubes, toys, harnesses and more obscure things than you can shake a…stick at.

Photo courtesy of Magalie L’Abbé on Flickr

Running from January 10 - 13, 2008 in Convention Halls A, B and C, a one-day ticket will set you back $15.00, while a weekend pass runs for $30.00. My opinion is that it’s worth going once, but it’s pretty much the same fanfare each and every year. (19+ only)

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And lastly, while I am on the subject of snowboarding this fine afternoon in downtown Vancouver, it’s time to fill you all in on my little adventure planned for February 1. My vixen-in-crime, the divine Rebecca Bollwitt, is accompanying me to Vancouver Island on the eve before. This is huge for me because I never, ever bring people back to the Island with me. This time I’ll let it slide…

Friday, February 1 is the second annual ‘Kokanee Day For Dudes‘ at Mount Washington Alpine Resort. Being that snowboarding at Mt. Washington is my first love, beer my second and men my third, could such an event be any more spectacular? True, the event is geared towards the endowed species, but the eye candy alone will be worth the price of the lift ticket. For $59, men can enjoy a lift ticket, afternoon lesson and Kokanee-sponsored aprés.

Need another reason to go? How about gorgeous powder and a base just shy of 400cm? Check this out, but try not to drool too much.

PLEASE, SIR…I WANT SOME MORE

Sexual fetishism is the sexual attraction for material and terrestrial objects while in reality the essence of the object is inanimate and sexless. Body parts may also be subject to sexual fetishes (also known as partialism) in which the preferred body part for the fetishist takes a sexual precedent over the owner. Sexual Fetishism may be regarded as a disorder of sexual preference, or as an enhancing element to a relationship.

Extract provided by Wikipedia

It wasn’t until I was 18-years-old that I had my first relationship that was in any way physical. Up until then, kissing was as far as I went. To me, this was new and exciting and completely exhilarating. Sex and sexuality were very foreign concepts to my young, innocent and uncorrupted mind.

One afternoon, while my then-boyfriend and I had his house to ourselves, we found ourselves in his bedroom in the middle of a hot n’ heavy make-out session. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the scenario. We were mid-kiss when I suddenly felt the sharp smack of his hand making direct contact with my bottom. I think it took me 1.6 seconds to scramble off and shout at him “what the hell are you doing?”

I don’t remember his exact response, but I’m sure that it was a combination of an uncomfortable laugh and a mumbled apology before going in for another kiss. I shrugged it off as though he was simply being silly and forgot about it within a minute or two.

It was only minutes later that it happened again. I was so shocked and so confused. I had no idea what he was doing or what his intention was. All I could conclude was that my boyfriend must just be weird. How was I to know that some men (and women, for that matter) had a very particular interest in spanking?

Photo courtesy of hapgoodbaines on Flickr

If you search for the word “fetish” on Google, you’ll be presented with approximately 105,000,000 hits within less time than it took me to haul ass off the boyfriend’s lap so many years ago. The range of different types of fetishes is perhaps as comprehensive as the number of hits itself. Anything from body parts, activities, and yes, even shoes, are fair game.

It wasn’t so long ago that the theory behind a fetish was based in somewhat of a traumatic or imprinting circumstance in one’s past. However, that thinking has evolved with sexuality and fetishes are viewed as a normal and healthy part of one’s randy realm. It’s not to say that this is true for everyone, as the sexual experience is an experience that is entirely unique from one person to the next.

My virginal spanking was nearly a decade ago and I am, in fact, a changed woman. In all honesty, a little tap on the ass (pun very much intended) can add a little bit of excitement to the bedroom routine. I can’t say that it’s something I don’t enjoy because I do. Beyond that much, I think fetishes are still very much a learning process for me. I haven’t discovered any other avenues in which I’d consider to be fetishes, and maybe this is as far as it will ever go for me. The beauty in it is that perhaps it’s something that we grow into, something in which different partners or people are able to pick apart pieces of our sexuality and uncover something even unbeknownst to ourselves.

Is there anyone reading this who is daring enough to share their fetish with the class? I can understand that perhaps a fetish isn’t something that is a part of everyone’s sexuality and that’s also completely okay. So where do you stand? Do you let the inner kink out or are you still finding your way?

* In commenting, please be aware that comment moderation is strictly enforced. All IP addresses are recorded, and any comments of a malicious, slandering, or otherwise inappropriate nature will be instantly deleted and the user blocked. Everyone on here should feel free to discuss, debate, ask and share in a safe manner. Let’s keep this SFO (Safe For the Office) *

DON’T ASK, DON’T TELL

I believe that I am a magnet - a magnet for infidelity, that is.

1. When I was 18, I dated a young man who seemed somewhat enamoured with me. This was short-lived, however, as he started dating a girl who was much, much younger than me very soon after we broke up. I’d have to be a complete idiot to think they weren’t already fooling around before we broke up. The grapevine likes to gossip.

2. A couple years later, I dated a man who was a fair bit older than me but, for some reason, could only have dinner or see movies late in the evening. By late, I mean after 10:00 p.m. That didn’t take long to fall apart, and it wasn’t long before I found out he was nearly engaged.

3. The last person I dated for a lengthy time was a relationship that ended over two years ago, but his arrogance still seethes me. His phone was always ringing at 2:00 a.m., he was aloof about his goings-on and certainly wasn’t always reachable.

What is most appalling about all of these instances is that I turned a blind eye to what was happening. Sure, I knew deep down that things certainly weren’t kosher, but did I speak up about it? Nope, sure didn’t.

Photo courtesy of rumorebianco on Flickr

Cheating is certainly not a new trend. Men and women have cheated within relationships for as long as they’ve been walking the Earth. What I don’t understand is the “why.”

In any of my relationships in which the men I was with were unfaithful to me, not “putting out” on my part was never an issue, so I can’t chalk it up to that. However, a repeated pattern in any regard should be a red flag. In something I recently watched (though the name of it escapes me at the moment), the female lead was complaining about her lack of luck in relationships to a male friend of hers. She lamented that she must be picking the wrong men. “Not so,” he replied. “The one thing all these men have in common is you.” Ouch.

Before we can really chew on this and discuss why it is people cheat, what is considered cheating within a relationship? Wikipedia defines cheating within personal relationships as:

With regard to human relationships, couples tend to expect sexual monogamy of each other. If so, then cheating commonly refers to forms of infidelity, particularly adultery. However, there are other divisions of infidelity, which may be emotional. Cheating by thinking of, touching and talking with the other sex may equally be as damaging to one of the parties. Emotional cheating may be correlated to that of emotional abuse, which to date is treated as seriously in a court of law as physical cheating. With the expansion of understanding of other cultures, there is a wide spectrum of what cheating means. When in a committed relationship, the definition of cheating is based on both parties opinions and both parties may redefine their understanding to match the party at an either lower or higher extreme of this definition. Some couples simply believe that cheating constitutes doing anything, whether verbal or physical, that one would not do in front of their significant other. Such examples would include: Kissing, Making out, and Sexual Relations.

Many people consider cheating to be any violation of the mutually agreed-upon rules or boundaries of a relationship, which may or may not include sexual monogamy. For example, in some polyamorous relationships, the concepts of commitment and fidelity do not necessarily hinge on complete sexual or emotional monogamy. Whether polyamorous or monogamous, the boundaries to which people agree vary widely, and sometimes these boundaries evolve within each relationship.

Do you agree? Disagree? What’s considered cheating in your eyes? Sex? Oral sex? Kissing? There are a million different answers here, so let’s hear some of yours.

In my own opinion, I believe that the aforementioned “emotional cheating” is just as damaging and hurtful as physical cheating, if not moreso. I’ve long believed that people cheat for reasons that are mostly anything but physical - I think that it ultimately leads back to having needs met. Surely those that do seek the arms of another can state that it’s all about the sex because they don’t want to have sex with their partner. However, I believe that if one’s needs are being met, all around, that the cheating wouldn’t take happen in the first place.

If your partner was making time for you, listening to you, loving on you and respecting you, and this was a mutual meeting of the needs, would you not want to spend time in your partner’s bed rather than that of a stranger? Of course there are going to be circumstances, such as those who are, among other things, addicted to sex or lack any sense of moral responsibility, who could cheat even despite having all needs at home met.

Why do you think men and women cheat? Is it purely physical or the result of something deeper that’s unsettling?

For this girl, I’m a one-man woman. I have no desire to share my man with another, whether I know of it or not. I believe that karma’s a bitch (even though I don’t quite believe in karma), and for me, cheating’s never okay. I suppose you could say that my experiences have left me, to a certain extent, somewhat jaded, paranoid and cynical. I’d like to still believe that there are men out there who are one-woman gentlemen.

Do you tolerate it?

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LOOK BUT DON’T TOUCH

As a young girl, Lady Luck was always on my side - at least when it came to winning things. I entered contests left and right and accumulated a pretty little collection of prizes. Nothing, however, was ever as embarrassing to receive in the mail as my Coneheads prize pack, complete with conehead skull cap.

Two years ago, as I wandered through the Bay in downtown Vancouver, I quite literally bumped into a ballot box. The winner received a sitting with the Bay’s in-house photographer and one 5″x7″ print. “Sounds like fun!” I thought to myself as I scribbled down my info on a scrap of paper and stuffed it in. Before I knew it, I received a call informing me that I’d won.

Now, I’m no idiot - I knew it was a promotional thing but I thought the opportunity to have my photo taken would be an exciting one because, as we all know, I enjoy taking photos of myself. And, quite obviously, I’m not the only one.

I arrived at the studio at the appointed time one evening the following week, oddly not excited at all. I thought that I could snag a few portrait photos for my mom and be done with it. I didn’t even dress in anything exciting. When I got there, I realized that it was an actual professional photography studio. As the main man himself, Kevin James Day, was too costly to sit with, one of his associates was to take my portraits. She got to work in one of the studio rooms, but Mr. Day sauntered in after about 20 minutes and said to his associate “on second thought, I’ll take her photos.”

A few more minutes passed, a few more portraits snapped. I engaged in a bit of conversation with the man with the camera and began inquiring about his photography background. I knew what I wanted to ask, but I wasn’t sure I could.

“So…umm…” I stalled. “Do you…do artistic nude photography too?”

“Yup, I take all kinds of photos.”

I was shaking a bit and a tad nervous but I came out with it: “Can I take some artistic nudes instead of these portraits then?” What was I thinking?!

“Sure - these photos can be whatever you want them to be.”

You wouldn’t believe how quickly I whipped off everything but my jeans.

Photo © Kevin James Day

What was to be a half-hour portrait session turned into two and a half hours of me parading around the brick and hardwood studio in not a whole lot of clothing. There was something incredibly freeing about the entire experience - to say that it was liberating would be cliché, but it couldn’t be more true.

Looking back on that experience, it still surprises me. I have long been comfortable with my body and within my own skin. A week later, as the photographer and I flipped through all my proofs, he exclaimed “it’s amazing how you just did what you did…most of my clients book a session like that three months in advance and haul ass at the gym until that time.” Now on my bookshelf sits a little leather-bound book that will always remind me of my day of liberation - a book that few have seen.

Perhaps it was a combination of factors, or perhaps it was the simple fact that the studio with the 15-foot ceilings came complete with 15-foot windows. Because you see, I have long been somewhat of an exhibitionist. My thought regarding nudity is “why not?” There’s nothing shameful or embarrassing about our skin or about our bodies.

We all have “flaws.”

Exhibitionism runs much more densely than just padding around one’s apartment in the buff. There’s everything from the thrill of open windows to topless sunbathing (which, yes mom, I used to do in our backyard - thanks for the warning that the BBQ repairman was coming over that one particular afternoon) to the hopes of getting caught having sex in public.

My one personal - and somewhat weird - disclaimer? If I think that you think I’m hideous, I cover up and hide and turn all the lights off. I become the complete antithesis of how I really feel about being nude.

And the flipside? There are always those who like to watch (known as voyeurs). I can’t much comment on that because it’s not the side of the coin I prescribe to but I’m sure there are many reading this that do.

Today’s question to you all: do you like to watch or to be watched?

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TO GROOM OR NOT TO GROOM?

That really is an interesting question.

When I was 18-years-old, I dated a young man who you could say paid careful attention to the small details - at least when it came to himself and his appearance. It wasn’t until after we stopped dating that I learned of the somewhat hideous details of his “beauty routine.” This included the fact that he filed and painted his nails with clear polish to keep them looking refined.

A few years later, I dated another compulsive groomer. However, this time around it was somewhat of a Catch-22. You see, from his father he inherited a modest amount of chest, upper back and upper arm hair. I was glad to see that he waxed to remove the back and appendage fur, but doing so in turn left a bumpy, red rash for a few days afterwards. Neither was favourable to me.

Photo courtesy of Buddy Stone on Flickr

It’s 2007 and the “beauty” world now caters to men in nearly every single facet of sprucing things up, physically speaking. There’s the sports pedicure, the aforementioned waxing, scents designed to keep women pawing all over you, almost as many hair products as women need and use as well as actual spas created solely for the everyday chap.

I’ve long been called a blatant liar in sharing my grooming preferences when it comes to the opposite sex. I love men that are men…ones that smell natural instead of saturated in cologne. Ones that aren’t afraid of a little chest hair instead of ripping it off with hot strips of wax (I said chest hair, not unibrows). Pretty boys are not for me, nor have they ever been.

And you know what else? I actually enjoy a little bit of a tummy on my men (but you already knew that, didn’t you?)

There is, however, one line that cannot be crossed; one area that simply cannot be neglected. All bets are off when headed south. Trimming is absolutely, posivitely and completely essential. Note that I said trimming, not shaving off completely. No one wants to see two bare Easter eggs down there either.

Question No. 1: How do you like your men groomed? Or alternatively, if you’re a man, how far is too far in terms of taking care of your appearance?

Women, you may not be excused from today’s lesson.

Can I be frank while still being Keira-Anne? Of course I can.

I am a hair-o-phobe. I have a huge aversion to female body hair, particularly my own. I even go so far as using depilatory cream on the peach fuzz on my arms. My legs are shaved on a daily basis and let’s face it…hardwood floors are just so much easier to maintain than carpet. (Isn’t it written somewhere that “A Cosmo girl is always ready?”) Enough said.

Photo courtesy of DimsumDarren on Flickr

However, don’t get me wrong. I completely stand by the idea of each to their own. I’d never shun a woman and look at her in disgust for letting the Amazon jungle grow wild - it’s just most certainly not for me.

Question No. 2: How do you like your women groomed? Or alternatively, if you’re a woman, how far is too far in terms of taking care of your appearance?

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