Oh, tip for any girl who hasn't really used vibrators and is considering it? (Why not? I'm a helpful sort.) Apparently a concern there is that if you go for just all-out crazy vibrations all the time, you may eventually find it much harder to get off without that helping hand. I always kinda saw it as maybe similar to a drug addiction -- you know, you get used to a regular diet of heroin, really even large amounts of even the best marijuana are unlikely to move you much.

Anyway, I bring this all up because I did get a slightly new perspective on it: I escorted a lady as she went shopping for a new electic friend. This would be the married-girl-ex, who I haven't seen in ... well, I've seen her like 3 times all year. Anyhow, her old vibrator was broken, she had a sudden urgent need for a new one, and was unwilling to go into a sex shop by herself. (Usually, she says, she'll buy one from a catalog or something. Mail order. Oh, and why wasn't the husband going along? I don't know, and really I don't tend to ask for a whole lot of explanations from this one. For one, they tend to be long and mundane, so much so that you almost forget your original question by the time she's done. And secondly, really I've fairly little faith that anything she says is ever the truth, anyway. I'm a fantastic judge of person, but I have to admit I'm putty in this one's hands. Scary. So she wanted a guy to take her shopping for sex toys, and really I wasn't busy anyway.)

What I have to say on the vibs themselves? Wow. Really. Actually, now that I think on it, my answer may change just slightly from its original. I am, of course, not sleeping with or involved with married-girl these days at all. If I were? I dunno -- I'd still be happy to have gone with her and everything, but really -- this was a big store. We're talking long walls full of toys of every shape and appearance. I couldn't even begin to describe the variety, except to say, really? Not that many of them really looked anything like a penis. Some just didn't at all. Lot's of angles and swervings and "ribs for her pleasure" and the like. They were even made from a good variety of materials, from what I could tell.

"What do you think?" she asks after about five minutes of browsing and explaining why this feature is always nice, and she's always wondered about that and so on.

What did I think? I thought, holy god, if ever I've been beyond my depth of helpful knowledge, I am today. "They're very pretty?"

Well, as far as how my answer changed? The number she ends up with was this bumpy purple thing, with this weird dramatic swerve at the end, which at my best guess would be meant to stimulate the g-spot. And maybe I've already telegraphed my slight issue: Checking out what she walked away with from this supermarket of sexual pleasures, obviously it had to occur to me to mentally compare this new toy to my own actual package. The problem? All that weird (to me) variety that I saw there. I'm left half-curious but baffled, because the design and engineering results made to satisfy women seem only vaguely similar to what nature came up with on it's own.

So, what I was left with? Deciding that no matter how well designed the toy, there's something irresistible about the natural model, perhaps most imporantly that it's actually attached to a real, living, responding human being -- and, I guess, the personality or mind of that being, and how we feel about them.

Which brings me nicely to my next point. Another entry in the How It's Going Without Meds department. To recap, it's been what, more than a month? Two months, maybe, since I quit taking the antidepressants I was prescribed? Bit of advice there, for any who may be interested: They say that with your SSRIs that it takes a while for them to build up in your system, but only a few missed doses to "undo" all the progress. Um, well no. Not exactly. If you want to argue that your brain chemistry goes from calmly pumping along with it's regularly expected dose of mood-alterers to maybe something a bit less predictable? Okay, maybe. But I can faithfully testify, here: All the effects of those medications did not dissipate as suddenly as I quit taking them. It's been a more gradual process, and really I can't be sure even now that it's completely done. Though I do think it is.

But I mentioned way back, when they added wellbutrin to my existing prescription of zoloft, how the sexual side-effects were kind of irritating. Back then, the issue seemed to be not being able to get off very easily. I think I was underestimating the overall influence, tho I suppose it's understandable enough: It appears my libido actually has been blunted for some time now, but I can imagine how I might have missed that, as I was just insanely depressed before I was taking the meds. That is, we go from near-suicidal and hypersexual to relatively-okay and able-to-contain-our-urges. Easy enough to miss, right?

So what made me notice the change back from medicated to normalcy? Well, it's not that I'm any more mentally preoccupied with sex than normal. Okay, really, I don't suppose that's even possible. But no, it's because I'm responding physically once again. You know, whether it's socially convenient or not.

I figure the women of the world are familiar enough with the concept of the surprise boner being a torment and embarassment of the newly-pubescent male. I'm not sure if you'd all realize that as adult males it's not so much this stuff never happens, but just that we've learned to deal with it better.

For instance, I'm in the gym. And there's this really gorgeous girl working out near me, and giving me the eye. Turns out I'm reminded: the body really tries to plan ahead on this one, probably even jumping the gun quite a bit. So even after a 1 1/2 year haitus from such activities, my mind reflexively calculates: First of all, it must be clear that erections are kinda like pink elephants. The more you concentrate on telling yourself it ain't there, the more of your shit it's knocking off the shelves with its trunk.

But of course, it's not like they obey commands, either. I think guys and erections get along so well only because erections are simply willing to appear so frequently. I mean, it's not like we control their arrival, length of stay, or departures much at all. Or any return visits. More or less, though they may be attached to us, these seem to be entitites completely of their own free will, who come and go as they see fit.

But, we can learn from studying them. I have learned, overeager tho they may be, erections also tend to have a fairly short attention span. That is, they get bored rather easily. So you find yourself with an absolutely magnificent erection in a completely inappropriate situation. You can't exactly "think it away", but what you can do is focus on your mind best as best you can on completely unsexy matters -- nothing too challenging, demanding, or interesting, as somehow your erection might actually find some value in that. No, steer your mind to reflect on the mundane task ahead of cleaning your bathroom, or lamenting that really shitty series-finale they hoisted off on your favorite tv show. Just anything, really.

The only challenge of it all, of course, is that you've got like 20 seconds max to realize and respond all together. But as I say, I think most adult men have this so reflexively programmed that it's occurrence doesn't even slip into our normal consciousness really. At least not enough to be remembered more than a few moments after it's happened.

But it's kind of new to me again, and y'know really, in a strange way? It's kinda fun. I dunno. Not exactly fun, but fun.

For instance, at work in the club there's these two ladies who come into the place like 3-5 nights a week, they are our most absolute regulars yet. They're fun, and both really kinda flirty. Oddly, I think the less flirty one is actually more sincere. But the other one? Every time I see her she gives me a big hug and must stick with the full-body physical contact. This past week, instant stiffy every time. Or at least, it would be without the zen-like powers I've described above. I guess it's fun because I get to have the little thrill of how instantly she can get me to respond, and yet still have the control to avoid going there if I choose to.

Though I'd have to guess, I'm probably no brilliant conversationalist right about then.

So, yeah. I guess I'm saying you can just go to a sex toy supermarket, or you can go around giving guys hugs and checking out the results. I'm sure you'll find something fitting easily enough.