http://begmetwice.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
begmetwice.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomhigh2014-10-21 09:52 am
begmetwice.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhigh2014-10-21 09:52 am
Entry tags:
Sex, Dating and Self-Confidence [Tuesday, Period 2]
This week, Irene was cheerfully perched on the edge of her desk, both looking and feeling much more like her usual self. "Good morning, darlings. I'm so sorry for missing you all last week, but I figure it's better to spend a class on catch-up than to risk everyone's health -- especially with Homecoming around the corner." She'd seen enough American television to know that was a big deal, yes.
"In any case," she continued, plucking up the blue question box and holding it on her lap. "I hope you all had a great time in the frozen wilds of wherever-the-hell-Skyrim-is, and congratulations to those of you who were part of that educational common room I heard about." Gwen was totally getting a Dite's coupon for that, yes. "I'm very proud that you took the initiative to form opinions for yourselves, rather than relying purely on secondhand testimony."
Look, kids! Most teachers didn't encourage porn, probably!
"Now, moving on to the questions that have cropped up in this lovely little box of mine," she was not going to even pause long enough there for a snicker, thank you, "in the weeks since I've seen your happy little faces."
She plucked one slip of paper from the box, cleared her throat, and read out, "How do you know if you're ready? Sexually." Irene hissed out a breath through her teeth, as this one was fairly tough. "There's no exact answer for this one," she said, shrugging her shoulders lightly. "I hate to say it, but it's one of those things where you'll just know. If it doesn't feel right -- if you don't feel ready -- then you're probably not ready. And no amount of convincing, or telling you what signs to look for, is going to provide an answer. Trust your body. Trust your mind. When you feel ready, you'll know -- and don't let anyone pressure you into an answer before that."
She set that slip aside, pursing her lips slightly as she picked out another. "I have a problem. You see, I'm in love with an older, more dashing, and much more successful man. He's completely out of my league but I can't stop thinking about his fluffy, curly, green hair or his large, large...feet. Sometimes, he paints my face gently and delicately, making sure my smile is there for the day and if he adds a small dog or frog to my cheek, who am I to argue?
Every time I see him, he always has the largest smile and a joke for me. Even when he spills out of a car with fifty of his closest friends, he always finds me in the crowd and pulls something cuddly out of his overly large pants. How do I tell this man that I'm in love with him? He really honks my horn and tickles my funny bone.
If you know what I mean.
But, I think he's cheating on me. Sometimes, I see him giggling wildly with some harlot or even entertaining soccer moms! Sometimes, he holds hands with grown men and pretends that they're shocking him! I should be the one that's shocking him! What am I to do here? Advice is desperately needed!"
Irene read all of this in a crisp monotone, flicking her eyes up to look at the students to see if anyone was reacting in a way that might give her a clue as to the author. Most of the time, she didn't care (even about the obvious ones), but this one was clearly a monologue with some intent behind it.
When she was done, she lightly tossed the paper over her shoulder, still scrutinizing the class. "I think you should stalk him," she finally said, simply. "Men love being under surveillance. And that's a surefire way to tell if he's cheating, luv."
And hopefully that wasn't a real question, because...because really.
She pulled another from the box, sighing as she read, "'I've never had sex with a head cold. Does it feel any different than sex when you actually can breathe?' There is an enormous difference between sex with a cold versus sex where you're healthy, and still further difference between those two and sex where you intentionally cannot breathe. They're all different. I don't recommend doing it when you're sick, though, as it's easy to spread whatever's ailing you."
Not that she'd spent her headcold that way, but thank you, whoever asked.
"And finally," she said, pulling one last slip of paper from the box, "we have the following, which will lead nicely into today's class discussion: 'How do you know if someone likes you, or if someone just thinks of you as a friend? How can you let someone know you like them if you're too chicken to come out and say it?'"
She set the slip of paper aside on her desk. "That, ladies and gentlemen, is what we'll be talking about today: the rules of attraction. And the very first thing I'm going to tell you is both disappointing and probably something you're used to hearing from me, now: everyone is different, and there are no hard and fast rules."
Sorry, guys.
"Yes, there's certain body language one can watch for," she acquiesced, smiling a little. "If you're interested in someone, watch how they move around you. Are they closed off from you physically?" She crossed her arms around herself, leaning back to push her hips forward a bit so she was angled away from them, ever so slightly, and crossed her legs. "There's nothing rude, or standoffish from the way I'm sitting," she said, "but generally speaking, when you're attracted to someone, you open yourself up a bit more."
"Women in particular tend to touch ourselves or others -- not like that -- when we're interested in someone." She uncrossed her arms, instead using one to push herself up to standing, while the other reached up to lightly touch her neck, then smooth her hair. "Men will lean forward, as a general rule -- either on their elbows, when sitting, or to compensate for any height differences when standing. But like I said, these aren't rules so much as...cues. Something to watch for. If your beloved doesn't do these things, all hope is not lost."
She stood up straight, drawing her hands behind her back as she talked. "We can't analyze people like science projects, unfortunately, much though I see the appeal." But oh, it was possible, and she'd lost everything because Irene herself was so easy to analyze. But she also didn't think most of these kids were on the emotionless sociopathological level of her beloved, either. "The easiest way to tell if someone likes you, darlings? Is to ask them. So that's what we're going to practice today -- the most terrifying thing some of you will ever face in your high school careers: asking someone on a date."
Dun dun dun.
"With Homecoming this weekend, I figured you could all use the practice. Well," she paused, not looking at anyone in particular, "perhaps not all of you. But in any case, find yourself a buddy -- preferably someone you are not currently dating -- and I'd like you to practice asking them to accompany you to the dance, or out for coffee or drinks, or whatever floats your boat. Partners, please feel free to tell each other if you're coming across as awkward or forced, or if there's room for improvement, and everyone, please be open to constructive feedback. This isn't an exercise in making everyone uncomfortable -- it's meant to take something that might be terrifying and make it less so. If you have someone in mind, who you'd like to be more than friends with, perhaps practice as though it's them. If you're an old pro at this, or you already have a boyfriend or girlfriend or other-friend, then just try to be there for your partner. Asking someone out can be terrifying even up through adulthood, and the only way to make it less scary is, as with most things, practice."
"In any case," she continued, plucking up the blue question box and holding it on her lap. "I hope you all had a great time in the frozen wilds of wherever-the-hell-Skyrim-is, and congratulations to those of you who were part of that educational common room I heard about." Gwen was totally getting a Dite's coupon for that, yes. "I'm very proud that you took the initiative to form opinions for yourselves, rather than relying purely on secondhand testimony."
Look, kids! Most teachers didn't encourage porn, probably!
"Now, moving on to the questions that have cropped up in this lovely little box of mine," she was not going to even pause long enough there for a snicker, thank you, "in the weeks since I've seen your happy little faces."
She plucked one slip of paper from the box, cleared her throat, and read out, "How do you know if you're ready? Sexually." Irene hissed out a breath through her teeth, as this one was fairly tough. "There's no exact answer for this one," she said, shrugging her shoulders lightly. "I hate to say it, but it's one of those things where you'll just know. If it doesn't feel right -- if you don't feel ready -- then you're probably not ready. And no amount of convincing, or telling you what signs to look for, is going to provide an answer. Trust your body. Trust your mind. When you feel ready, you'll know -- and don't let anyone pressure you into an answer before that."
She set that slip aside, pursing her lips slightly as she picked out another. "I have a problem. You see, I'm in love with an older, more dashing, and much more successful man. He's completely out of my league but I can't stop thinking about his fluffy, curly, green hair or his large, large...feet. Sometimes, he paints my face gently and delicately, making sure my smile is there for the day and if he adds a small dog or frog to my cheek, who am I to argue?
Every time I see him, he always has the largest smile and a joke for me. Even when he spills out of a car with fifty of his closest friends, he always finds me in the crowd and pulls something cuddly out of his overly large pants. How do I tell this man that I'm in love with him? He really honks my horn and tickles my funny bone.
If you know what I mean.
But, I think he's cheating on me. Sometimes, I see him giggling wildly with some harlot or even entertaining soccer moms! Sometimes, he holds hands with grown men and pretends that they're shocking him! I should be the one that's shocking him! What am I to do here? Advice is desperately needed!"
Irene read all of this in a crisp monotone, flicking her eyes up to look at the students to see if anyone was reacting in a way that might give her a clue as to the author. Most of the time, she didn't care (even about the obvious ones), but this one was clearly a monologue with some intent behind it.
When she was done, she lightly tossed the paper over her shoulder, still scrutinizing the class. "I think you should stalk him," she finally said, simply. "Men love being under surveillance. And that's a surefire way to tell if he's cheating, luv."
And hopefully that wasn't a real question, because...because really.
She pulled another from the box, sighing as she read, "'I've never had sex with a head cold. Does it feel any different than sex when you actually can breathe?' There is an enormous difference between sex with a cold versus sex where you're healthy, and still further difference between those two and sex where you intentionally cannot breathe. They're all different. I don't recommend doing it when you're sick, though, as it's easy to spread whatever's ailing you."
Not that she'd spent her headcold that way, but thank you, whoever asked.
"And finally," she said, pulling one last slip of paper from the box, "we have the following, which will lead nicely into today's class discussion: 'How do you know if someone likes you, or if someone just thinks of you as a friend? How can you let someone know you like them if you're too chicken to come out and say it?'"
She set the slip of paper aside on her desk. "That, ladies and gentlemen, is what we'll be talking about today: the rules of attraction. And the very first thing I'm going to tell you is both disappointing and probably something you're used to hearing from me, now: everyone is different, and there are no hard and fast rules."
Sorry, guys.
"Yes, there's certain body language one can watch for," she acquiesced, smiling a little. "If you're interested in someone, watch how they move around you. Are they closed off from you physically?" She crossed her arms around herself, leaning back to push her hips forward a bit so she was angled away from them, ever so slightly, and crossed her legs. "There's nothing rude, or standoffish from the way I'm sitting," she said, "but generally speaking, when you're attracted to someone, you open yourself up a bit more."
"Women in particular tend to touch ourselves or others -- not like that -- when we're interested in someone." She uncrossed her arms, instead using one to push herself up to standing, while the other reached up to lightly touch her neck, then smooth her hair. "Men will lean forward, as a general rule -- either on their elbows, when sitting, or to compensate for any height differences when standing. But like I said, these aren't rules so much as...cues. Something to watch for. If your beloved doesn't do these things, all hope is not lost."
She stood up straight, drawing her hands behind her back as she talked. "We can't analyze people like science projects, unfortunately, much though I see the appeal." But oh, it was possible, and she'd lost everything because Irene herself was so easy to analyze. But she also didn't think most of these kids were on the emotionless sociopathological level of her beloved, either. "The easiest way to tell if someone likes you, darlings? Is to ask them. So that's what we're going to practice today -- the most terrifying thing some of you will ever face in your high school careers: asking someone on a date."
Dun dun dun.
"With Homecoming this weekend, I figured you could all use the practice. Well," she paused, not looking at anyone in particular, "perhaps not all of you. But in any case, find yourself a buddy -- preferably someone you are not currently dating -- and I'd like you to practice asking them to accompany you to the dance, or out for coffee or drinks, or whatever floats your boat. Partners, please feel free to tell each other if you're coming across as awkward or forced, or if there's room for improvement, and everyone, please be open to constructive feedback. This isn't an exercise in making everyone uncomfortable -- it's meant to take something that might be terrifying and make it less so. If you have someone in mind, who you'd like to be more than friends with, perhaps practice as though it's them. If you're an old pro at this, or you already have a boyfriend or girlfriend or other-friend, then just try to be there for your partner. Asking someone out can be terrifying even up through adulthood, and the only way to make it less scary is, as with most things, practice."
Re: Ask someone out! [10/21]
Re: Ask someone out! [10/21]
"It looks like everyone else paired off already," he told Eleanor. "I know it's not what Ms. Adler wanted, but it looks like I'll just have to be stuck with the prettiest girl in the room. So... Did you have something to ask me?"
Re: Ask someone out! [10/21]
Re: Ask someone out! [10/21]
Re: Ask someone out! [10/21]
If he could tease, so could she.
Re: Ask someone out! [10/21]
Re: Ask someone out! [10/21]
Or, rather, himself, but not dating her. It made sense in her head.
"Joker?" she asked, picking a pen up from her desk so she could fidget with it. "Do -- do you have a moment?"
Re: Ask someone out! [10/21]
He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment, and then turned back with a look of pleasant surprise. "Oh, hey there! Sure, I've got a moment. For a pretty girl like you, I've got several. What's shakin'?"