Spring has sprung!

The season of rebirth is always has a slow start ’round these parts. But there are more sunny days than cloudy, the snow is melting and the air carries hints of the warmer weather to come.

Olde tyme cartoons often portray spring as the lovey-doviest of seasons. Flowers, songbirds and frolicking lambs  create a heady, bucolic back-drop for moony couples who’s pupils morph into hearts as they gaze into each other’s eyes. In reality, this early part of spring still leaves me a bit cold (and wet and muddy), but my sexual and romantic inclinations often perk up in May. The blossoms and bird songs really are a bit of an aphrodisiac for me. The lambs are few and far between, but there are many sexy people frolicking in their shorts and sundresses.

Which brings us to this week’s question:

Is there a season/time of year when you feel especially libidinous/romantic?

The comments are open!

How do you define the word ‘sex’?

I use the word in a couple different ways. There’s “sex” the biological category – intersex, female, male, etc. For a long time, I thought of “sex” in this sense as being synonymous with “gender” and would use both words interchangeably. Eventually I learned that “sex” refers to a set of physical traits (hormones, genitalia, chromosomes and more), while gender has to do with a person’s psychological and emotional identity.

Of course, I’m not a super science-y gal, so most of the time when I say “sex”,  I’m referring to the physical act. But what physical act?  “Sex” is a word that open to a lot of interpretation. What I call sex may be very different from your definition of the word. What I call sex today is very different from the definition I had twenty years ago. Back then I would have told you that sex was  penis-in-vagina penetration because it had the potential to result in pregnancy and that everything else was a form of foreplay.

Then I experienced oral sex. Nothing about it felt like a warm up, a precursor or anything but the main event! So, I began to think of sex as not just vaginal penetration, but any partnered activity that was likely to produce an orgasm.

When I began working in sexual health and sex education, I began to understand how varied sexual experience can be. Again, I began to amend my definition of what consitutes “sex”, trying to find a meaning that was a bit broader and didn’t depend on partners or orgasms. Nowadays when I say sex, I mean something along the lines of “an intentional, consensual physical act which produces or enhances sexual pleasure.”

What do you mean when you talk about “sex”? Has its meaning changed for you over time or with certain experience? The comment section is yours!


Every Friday I ask you a question of the week. You can answer often, occasionally or not at all. And if you have something to say but you’re feeling shy, you’re always welcome to comment anonymously.



Porn: Do you enjoy it or avoid it? Are there erotic media that you prefer over others?

It’s no secret that this gal likes porn. My teens and early twenties were all about exploring, discovering and basically grab-handing anything with explicit depictions of sex. I took a long time but I’ve learned to distinguish between the stuff that turns me on in a fun pleasurable way, the stuff that turns me on but leaves me feeling kind of icky and the stuff that doesn’t do anything for me at all.

I almost always watch pornographic films with my partner. We both love movies, we both love sex and porn is pretty effective when we want to jump start the frisky times. Except for gay porn. That’s all me. On  rare occasions when my guys take off and leave me on my own for a  couple of days, I like to chill out with a big bowl of chips and some hot guy-on-guy action.

Erotic books are my go-to for solo pursuits. Nothing enhances wanking like words. Smutty scenes in paper romance novels were my gateway to porn. When I was eleven or twelve I had a Harlequin-esque novel stashed under my mattress. All of the sexy scenes were dog-eared for quick access. From there I moved on to explicitly erotic/pornographic novels. There was a lot more sex but my masturbatory frequency doesn’t mesh well with long form fiction. Too much stopping and starting. Sexy short stories are perfect for me. A quick hit of literary inspiration and then my mind and hands are free to wander.

I almost never buy pornographic magazines. I find static pictures don’t do much for me.  I’ve also heard there’s porn on the Internet but generally I steer clear. I know there’s stuff I’d like out there, but the thought of navigating Webland to find it intimidates the crap out of me.

My favourite porn medium might be comics books. Comic serve my desire for visual stimulation AND fulfil my craving for dirty words and phrases. Colleen Coover’s Small Favours is one of the best discoveries I have ever made. .  It’s cute, explicit fantasy that makes me hella happy and hella horny at the same time.

Every Friday I ask you a question of the week. You can answer often, occasionally or not at all. If you have something to say but you’re feeling shy, you’re always welcome to comment anonymously.


If you could go back in time, what would you tell your younger self about sex?

There are three things I’d say to Twenty Years Ago Nadine if only I could:

1. Don’t waste your energy wishing for bigger boobs. Just enjoy wearing halter tops…while you still can.

2. Here’s the thing. You’re getting a lot of ideas about sexuality from movies, television, magazines and romance novels. And from your friends, who are getting a lot of their ideas about sexuality from movies, television, magazines and romance novels. Media is fun and entertaining…but it’s rarely the truth.

Sexuality is varied and diverse. It’s a smorgasbord of identities, desires, expressions, ideas and ethics. You don’t know a lot about real life sexuality. People have a hard time talking about sex open. When they do talk about it, they tend to be cautious and pretty guarded, especially around teenagers, so you’re not hearing a lot of man-on-the-street, truths about sex. What you are getting is a lot of sexualized media. It’s shiny and kind of cool looking, but it’s basically the same three ideas over and over again. So don’t stress because you don’t feel like a Seventeen magazine, Harlequin heroine. That’s never going to feel right for you. It’s not supposed to because that’s not who you are.

3. Take a picture of your ass. Trust me. Twenty years from you’re gonna want to look back on the glory days!

Every Friday I ask you a question of the week. You can answer often, occasionally or not at all. If you have something to say but you’re feeling shy, you’re always welcome to comment anonymously.

Before we get to this week’s question, I owe you peeps an apology. I’m sorry – I’ve been way lax on the blogging the past few days. I developed a nasty sinus infection and came down with the stomach flu at the same time. I’ve basically been a walking blob of ickyness this week and the Adorkable realm has been neglected as a result.

Happily my immune system seems to have regained the upper hand. I’m on the road to restored health and a return to blogging. Because of some new developments this new year, it won’t be possible for me to sustain my Monday through Friday schedule. But I will be posting at least three entries a week from here on in. So in the spirit of getting back into the swing of things, let’s get right to our question of the week!

How Do You Feel About Sex On Special Occasions?

Special occasion sex can be a total turn on for some people. It makes for an exciting day full of anticipation.  “Hells yeah! It’s my anniversary.  Imma eat some swanky food with a fancy sauce then get ma’ bounce on!”

I tend to have the opposite reaction. I didn’t have sex on my wedding night. I have a hard time getting it up on my birthday. Valentine’s Day is also the anniversary of when The MoMs and I started dating and frankly, I can’t take the pressure.

I dig booty but as soon as I feel like I should be having sex, all my systems shut down. Special occasion sex feels like the calendar bossing me around. Don’t tell me what to do, February 14th! I’ll get busy when I darn well want to!

Also? Romance does not turn me on in the slightest. I adore romantic gestures. I’m always jazzed when The MoMs and I share squishy times. It makes me crave hugs, cuddles, kisses and lots of physical intimacy…just not in a sexy way. Also? I hate having sex by candlelight. The flickering light bothers my eyes, plus I think about the fire hazard and it distracts me from my orgasm.

I know, publishers of women’s magazines. This trods all over the conventional perspective you have on lady-folk and what makes us horny. I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m just saying this gal doesn’t get hot for hearts, flowers and special occasions.


Every Friday I ask you a question of the week. You can answer often, occasionally or not at all. If you have something to say but you’re feeling shy, you’re always welcome to comment anonymously.

Have you ever had an animal intrude on your sexy times?

Growing up, I had a cat named Pudding. While the name was evocative of a soft, gentle soul Pudding was in fact, a big, black territorial brute.  He was ruthlessly possessive of his turf and his people. One day, I was in our basement getting cozy with my then-boyfriend on the couch. Pudding the Cat was curled up on the nearby La-Z-Boy. To the uninitiated visitor he appeared to be sleeping but I knew he was doing feline surveillence, keeping an eye and both ears fixed on the intruder that was kissing me.

Eventually the smooching led to some handsy business. I was into it. Pudding The Cat was not. Despite being well into his senior years, he made a deft leap from his lurking spot over to the couch. He stalked over to my boyfriend, glaring at him with menace.

“I think you’ve made an enemy,” I told my partner in second base.

“Nah,” my boyfriend replied “I don’t think so. I’m good with animals.”

“Well he’s not good with people. Let’s just go up to my room.”

He was never one to back down from a challenge, that old boyfriend of mine. He was convinced his good-with-animal ways could appease my affronted pet. He reached out with one hand and scratched Pudding behind the ear. (Note: In my memory that gesture happens in slow motion, while I cry out “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”)

What happened next was an angry cat screech and a blurr of black as Pudding went ninja cat all over my boyfriend. Working with alarming efficiency, Pudding was the victor after only ten seconds of combat. My poor ex was bleeding from a dozen scratches to the arm.  Satisfied that the sexy mood between us was good and dead, Pudding gave a final glare before running upstairs to pester my dad for table scraps.

“I hate your fucking cat,” my boyfriend growled.  I couldn’t blame him. But I had warned him. Pudding the Cat…not good with people.


Every Friday I ask you a question of the week. You can answer often, occasionally or not at all. If you have something to say but you’re feeling shy, you’re always welcome to comment anonymously.

What personality traits do you find attractive in a partner?

Humour. Specifically wit and/or sarcasm. Banter is a powerful aphrodisiac.

I adore kind people. Not necessarily  a noble humanitarian type (though it’s swell if you are), just a sweet person who smiles at kids, thanks the bus driver and generally cares about other people’s feelings. That’s hot.

I love people with creative minds. To be clear, I don’t think creativity is a quality that only artistic people possess. The Man of Mans is very creative as a mathematician. The medium is less relevant than the incredible turn-on of person with an inventive, innovative, ‘I want to make stuff’ kind of mind.

People who own Roll Bounce on DVD. Which isn’t a personality trait but hey – the heart wants what it wants.


What personality traits are guaranteed to turn you off?

Arrogance. I know confidence is a good thing and I do like people who are authentically self-assured. But boasting? Kills my lady-boner every time.

In the spirit of a new year and new beginnings, I’m introducing a new feature called: Question of the Week.

In university my classmates and I used to write a ‘Question of the Day’ on the blackboard in the theatre student lounge. These questions almost always centered around sex and almost always sparked some lively, informative discussion. All that talking about sex helped me feel okay about sex. It seems like a tradition worth reviving.

Of course participation is completely optional. You can answer often, occasionally or not at all. If you have something to say but you’re feeling shy, you’re always welcome to comment anonymously.

So without further ado, let’s get to this week’s question:

How did you first learn about sex?

I’m lucky. My introduction to sex was safe, simple and very straightforward. I was three or four years old when I asked my mother how babies were made. Mom calmly replied that babies were the result of  intercourse. She went on to explain that intercourse was when a man put his penis in a woman’s vagina. My mom described sex as something totally normal, which I realize in retrospect was some pretty rad parenting on her part. I walked away from that first conversation with a shiny new piece of knowledge and virtually no prejudice about whether this sex thing was good or bad

Most experts agree that when preschoolers ask questions about sex, adults should answer their question directly, without going into  a lot of additional detail. Which is what my mom did. Throughout, it’s also what my teachers and other adults in my life did. Because sex was always described to me as a penis in a vagina and because all the pictures I saw in books were static, I thought sex was passive and still.  My mom told me that grown-ups enjoyed sex because it was pleasant and pleasurable. I assumed she meant “pleasant” the way grown-ups thought drinking coffee was pleasant or reading magazines was pleasant. The word sex conjured images of naked people lying in bed, quietly connected at the crotch, talking about taxes or names for the baby they were making.  It wasn’t until I saw my first saw porn that I understood how active sex can be.

That’s my story. I’d love to hear yours. The comment section is open – tell me how and when you first learned about sex.