I was in CTB last week finishing up an essay when the song “Slow Motion” by Trey Songz came up. Normally, a throwback track like this wouldn’t incite so much nostalgia and excitement in me, but this song took me back to one of my favorite hook up memories. The summer before I began Cornell, I went from having my first kiss to showing up to my summer fling’s house wearing nothing but lingerie and high heels. Walking from his driveway to the front door, I remember that song bursting from inside of the house and my heart racing in anticipation of his surprise when he opened the door. He went absolutely crazy.
We are writing in regard to the recent guest column, “Being a Graduate Student in a Harvey Weinstein World at Cornell University,” to emphasize that sexual harassment or coercion of any kind has no place at Cornell. The author is absolutely correct that graduate students and, indeed, all members of the Cornell community should be protected from sexual coercion and that academic success should never be linked to such pressures. For that reason, it is important to be aware that Cornell Policy 6.4 clearly prohibits such misconduct. That policy defines “Sexual Coercion” as follows:
“To obtain compliance with sexual acts by using physically or emotionally manipulative actions or statements or expressly or implicitly threatening the person or another person with negative actions. Examples of sexual coercion include statements such as “I will ruin your reputation,” or “I will tell everyone,” or “your career (or education) at Cornell will be over.”
The policy also defines Sexual Harassment as follows:
A form of protected-status harassment that constitutes unwelcome sexual advances, requests for sexual favors, or other oral, written, visual, verbal or physical conduct of a sexual nature that unreasonably interferes with the individual’s work or academic performance, or creates an intimidating, hostile, or offensive working or learning environment under any of the following conditions:
Submission to, or rejection of, such conduct either explicitly or implicitly is (1) made a term or condition of an individual’s employment or academic status, or (2) used as a basis for an employment or academic decision affecting that person; or
The conduct is sufficiently (1) persistent, severe or pervasive, and (2) has the purpose or effect of altering the conditions of an individual’s employment or academic pursuits in a way that a reasonable person would find abusive, hostile, or offensive.
From the painfully awkward day my parents and I had the “Sex Talk,” I knew exactly how I wanted to lose my virginity. It would be magnificent — a combination of all of the steamy sex scenes I had secretly watched on the 2 p.m. daytime soap operas. A warm, candle-lit room with a plush bed and silky white sheets, rose petals sprinkled around the room in a shape of a heart, and bubbly Dom Perignon awaiting my arrival. My future boyfriend would be gentle and making love would be beautiful. Growing up with these elaborate expectations and years of my parents reinforcing their conservative point of view on my virginity, it was no surprise that I was on the verge of graduating from college and had never had sex.
It’s Sunday morning at 11 a.m. and I roll over, hand slapping my phone to turn off an alarm that is blasting through the room and ringing in my ear, like God himself has placed a marching band on my nightstand and they are determined to play until my brain gives out. I need coffee and to figure out how to get the 190 lb man spread-eagle across the bed next to me home so I can actually finish the problem set I said I’d do on Thursday. A text sits unread at the top of my lock screen as I finally figure out how to shut the alarm off. “Did you have a good night and did you hook up with him?”
I start to write out a text explaining that I didn’t hook up with him as we had only made out and talked until 2 a.m., and then passed out unceremoniously on top of the blankets of my bed. Then I realized maybe that was a hookup.
To many, millennial “hook-up culture” is a disease infecting college campuses across the county. If that’s true, then Cornell has a fatal case. Over the years, I’ve heard many people try to explain the particularly strong grip casual sex has on the average Cornellian’s relationships. “We’re just so focused on school we can’t possibly put in the time necessary for a healthy relationship.” “Everyone was a nerd in high school, so now that people actually want to sleep with them, they have to do it.” “Sex is the strongest nonprescription stress-reliever.” The root of the culture is likely a combination of the three, as Cornell students are some of the most driven, thirsty and stressed-out people in the U.S.
No matter the causes of this trend, what’s really important is how it affects the typical social resident on the hill. Do we benefit from this system of apathetic hook-ups?
Let’s face it, while winter break is our light at the end of the tunnel, around the eighth day most of us are five pounds heavier and absolutely bored with our nondescript home lives. Sometime during that second week of blissful boredom, you open the little, red-flamed app that you had promised not to rejoin. A few swipes later, you’re sitting in your couch wearing warm flannel pajamas for the second day in a row, stuffing your face with holiday cookies, feeling that red-hot holiday jingle in your pants. And all of a sudden, you realize the holidays are actually stressful. At Cornell, you have the luxury of your own mattress and no parental supervision, so you never really have to sneak around (unless you’re into that, in which case, hell yeah), but at home privacy is a rare luxury.
Life’s too short to have vanilla sex. Now, I like to live fast and hard, so maybe this mantra is just a reflection of my lifestyle, but I have a feeling that there are a lot of kinky souls relating to this right now. For me, it goes back to my first kiss. I was 18 (I know, so much for living fast and hard), but to be fair, having to handle two dominating parents and a course load full of APs on top of a myriad of extracurricular activities was a true cock-block. Anyways, I was 18, and after many summer evenings of eye-fucking a hot guy at my country club’s gym, he finally asked me out.
I licked my lips as a drop of sweet vodka dripped from my frosted martini glass. Gingerly, I set the glass down on the golden bar and looked at my friend, pursing my lips, anticipating her next comment. “Got one,” she whispered in delight, and her eyes casually surveyed the rest of the room. This is the sweet hunt you read about in the naughty sex section of Cosmopolitan articles: lusting for sugar daddies. We sipped our £40 martinis in London’s most notorious sugar daddy hunting ground waiting to fulfill our perverted, narcissistic fantasy.
In light of this week’s career fair, resumés have undoubtedly been on all our minds. And as we’ve all been updating our special skills sections, a lot of us are also probably wondering about the surefire ways to impress potential employers. I’m not sure I can help you much with that, but when it comes to impressing others, I have found that one of the best ways to do so is by getting down on your knees (and I don’t mean begging, because that’s just not sexy…in most cases). Seriously, knowing your way around a guy’s cock is a skill that’s in high demand and will never go out of style. Few things will make a guy go crazier than a pro taking care of his bad boy.