Beautiful Lesbians Make For Good Conversation

Podcast: Play in new window | Download

Folks, I was talking to Loveleen, a friend of mine, who is a beautiful lesbian.  I don’t mean she’s beautiful for a lesbian.  I mean that she’s beautiful, and she’s also a lesbian. To me, this is like ice cream with both cookie dough and grated dark chocolate on top. Just a wonderful dish.

I was talking to Loveleen about something I’d heard on the radio. Some guy was talking about how he’d realized one day that anything someone does for ten years, they become an expert at. He said expertise might not take a full ten years, but, rest assured, for sure you would be an expert by the time ten years was up.

Loveleen was interested because she was looking to change careers, so we talked about it for a while before the subject moved on to relationships, which is no great surprise when someone is talking to Dr. Matt. She’d been dating a girl for about five months, and she was beginning to worry about what would happen when the honeymoon period would end.

“I’ve never been in a relationship for a super long time,” she said. “I really like this girl, and we have a lot of passion. What if it gets stale?”

I thought about this for a moment, picturing two lesbians locked in passion and trying to imagine a moment of that ever getting stale. Suddenly, something occurred to me. “You agreed with what I was saying earlier, right?”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“I mean what that dude said on the radio, about expertise,” I said.

She looked at me quizzically. “Well, sure,” she said. “It makes a lot of sense. It took me probably ten years to feel like I could play the violin well.”

“Well, it occurs to me that the same could apply to relationships,” I said. “That is, it could take up to ten years to really know someone well, perhaps to gain an expertise on who they are as a person.”

She smiled at me, watching the wheels turn in my head as I was talking. I continued: “The thing is, a skill that you learn is a fixed target, but people are not. People are always changing and growing, meaning you could spend your entire lifetime with someone and always have something new to learn from them, or something new that they can learn from you. So, I don’t see how it could ever be stale, if both of you are willing to learn, and willing to grow.”

Loveleen was willing to play along. She responded: “But even if there are new things to learn, couldn’t you at some point feel you are an expert in that other person, that you know them quite well? What then? Wouldn’t we naturally seek out a greater learning experience?”

I shrugged. “You might, and many people do,” I said. “There are no wrong choices, even though there are some choices that appear stupider than others. But, would you stop playing the violin, now that you have expertise?”

“Of course not,” she said.

“Exactly,” I said. “Now you get to experience the real joy, which is to display your expertise, to express it in as many ways that cross your mind. You can learn a new song, or create one from nothing. Being an expert means you can forget about what you know and just express who you are.”

Loveleen chuckled. “Jeez, Dr. Matt, you might just turn around a commitment-phobe like me. Maybe I’ll make an honest woman out of this girl.”

“As long as there’s chocolate on top of cookie dough,” I said.

“What was that?” she asked me.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was thinking about something else.”

Just My Thoughts,
Dr. Matt*

* Dr. Matt is not a real doctor.