Homo Erectus Defect Us

I love men a whole bunch. We femmes are from another planet than the males, but what we do together is beautiful and heartwrenching and confusing. We get caught up in the timeless trappings of the tail chasing man and the money/status hungry female all too often, and the simplistic awesomeness of sex gets lost a bit. I had NO idea how dillegently science has been working out the finer points of how deep rooted those male and female niches are, however.





Flipping through quite a few dull choices on t.v. recently, I settled on a show called "The Science of Sex Appeal" on TLC. I half expected it to be all clinical-y and something I could pseudo-watch while I conducted some internet research (hey, trolling D-Listed is research)...boy howdy, was I wrong. It's not front page shocking neccissarily, but it's f-f-fascinating. That's right, stutter worthy. I can't possibly do all the information justice, nor would I try...if you happen across it, watch it, that's all. Here are a few key points that hit me like a ton of enlightening bricks for various reasons:





Symmetry is what we are most allured by: Because it means strong genes, and that means healthy children. Women look at the face, then to the broadness of shoulders. Men look at the face and then the curvature of hips. Insert metaphors here.





Women have a "scent detector" for potential mates: When we ovulate, we are more attracted to the male musk, and any odor that comes from our own bloodline is like sewer water, because it means the young ones will be deficient in some way. Everyone has a unique and exclusive genetic scent that we can tell subconsciously if it will mean good or bad baby making. She's just not that into your genes.





Monogomy is mental-ish: Men and women have Oxytonin present when in committed relationships that may account for the long term, and a chemical called Vasopressin that was once related to organ function and water retention has been found present in similar ways. In essence you crave the other person, prolonged infatuation. No matter how cute they are in their pjs, that's the scientific culprit.





Women want competition for their eggs: And again, it's to make sure they have the top dog alpha male to mate with. A study was held to see which females put out the vibe most while out with the girls, and it was the taken ones. And the more flirting we do, the more testosterone men produce. Hello, bar fights.





Men literally can't think when vaginas are in the equation: A group of men were asked to rate average looking females when low levels of vaginal secretions were being filtered to them, with picky results and then asked to do the same with high levels, and they couldn't distinguish between yays and nays at all. (Women are picky and men are NOT for equally fundamental reasons)





It all started when we stood up: According to the evolutionary theories, as soon as the humans stood upright, and women had to carry their young in their arms and not on their backs...they needed someone to provide and protect. So therein the gender roles were born. And haven't died since.





With each layer of findings they showed, I was both liberated and felt an impending sense of doom all at once. IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE. Opposites attracting (the more diverse the genes, the more impressive the kid), getting jilted for a seemingly lesser specimen (it's a chemical connection and nothing else perhaps), if you're spoken for, you're now hot property (competition for the bigger better deal on both ends) ...it's all primal and completely out of our control. So why torture ourselves?





I sat there thinking, what a double edged sword it is that no matter how many cross your path that are really good guys/girls and you "should" give them a chance, your biology won't let you go there. They just don't have "it". And the "it" isn't negotiable, as you were born with the selective matchmaker DNA that's the final say. The sword is wielded again with the thought that we really are cemented in the footsteps of our ancestors, despite centuries of painstaking leaps to leave them far behind and diferentiate. And that no matter how messed up your choice of partner seems to be, on some wavelength it's all systems go, and that's what keeps you in an otherwise toxic relationship. Holy Hannah Montana. We're just here to propogate the species. All the other shenanigans are irrelivent. Scientific proof.





Like I said before, it's not all that earth shattering, as we've known how us girls are into the paycheck and protection, and men are into another distinct p-word. To hear scientific proof to that effect is so boggling for me....countless drunken cry-fests stemming from "WHY GOD! WHY?!?" when it doesn't work out, endless dates that end in dissapointment, the "accidental" conception of a child. I feel comfortingly duped, almost. Like nature has been laughing at us in our dramatic little plight of inane, when all we're doing is ferreting out the best possible humans to carry the torch. Romance isn't neccissary.





At the end-spoiler alert-one of the doctors stated that people have voiced the same outrage to her that we're not the masters of our own relations and relationships and they wanted her thoughts...she said what we have right along with all the other mammals that pair bond or don't (or throw feces for that matter) is choice. We choose to be with who we want to, or not for whatever complex reason. I agree, even if I'm still a bit perplexed...all our fancy advances haven't been for naught, as they're what we do between mating, and they either complicate, fascilitate or distract from the sex area. If we DID follow nothing but instinct, I think the world would be alot more X rated and overpopulated, and the bonding between all other humans that aren't our alpha male/female...those wouldn't be there at all maybe. I have a few I'd like to keep around.





So after many gaskets in my head were blown and then fused back in stronger working order...turns out, we ARE evolved. Even if the resoning behind sexy times are the same as they ever were (but hey, keep primal where it belongs, I spose). I'm happy to split the difference. Romance, in every sense of the word isn't a futile or inane drama. It's what keeps us upright from the rest of the mammals.



I'm glad we stood up, even if it means we get knocked down to the ground by the very thing we stood up for, on occasion.

The Choose Your Own Adventure Fairy

There aren't many living, viable links between our past, present and future outside of ourselves and the loved ones we accumulate. Choices we make are of the few, however.


I fell ass over tits into the woulda-shoulda-couldas a couple weeks back, and I'm just now making my way back to sanity and/or serenity. Thinking along those lines equals time-wasting negativity, and a little bastard named regret. I'm not a fan. That term implies you had a road to pick and you botched it in some way. You can't really botch a road unless you paved it, if you catch my breeze. Regret implies that, in essence, you're doomed to carry around the burden of an enacted theory that didn't pan out ideally (usually in the far off lands of Hindsight and Retrospect), and it's kind of a cop-out. If one tends to stick by any decision and embrace the resulting person thereof...you get the picture.



Wouldn't it be rad though, if you had a wise, motherly pixie to show up and grant you a glimpse at the alternatives you declined, to re-affirm the road you did travel? She'd materialize (a Regina King/Glenda the Good Witch/Cindi Lauper in her heyday hybrid) and say, "Don't you worry, darlin'. Let's take a lighthearted look and see what else might have happened. Then it will be better, because you'll know and knowing is half the battle, right?" And you'd be all, "Thanks...you rock. LOAD off my mind! Can I have a cookie too?" There's no doubt she'd be packin' some fresh-from-the-oven Snickerdoodles. They're the most nostalgic cookie. it's true.






Life is a Choose-Your-Own-Adventure book, I think. The main plot points that need to be will, but how you get there is up to you. There's no reason to cry over spilt milk, or how it was spilled. What the glass looked like. Soy, Chocolate or Banana. Doesn't matter. Even if it seems really important to figure it all out, you're better off just letting it go. Bottom line is try not to spill at all, folks. You're magic cookies won't taste as good without it.



Wait...what?