“Carpe diem,” is a popular saying. Some have it tattooed on them, while others simply live by it; like a code. When it comes to seizing the day, what do you do? Maybe telling off your boss for the first time, or going skydiving on a whim is what gets you off. But for others, more personal issues, like sex, where do you stand? Sometimes it comes off as a vulgar subject; it makes people uncomfortable, but it’s just a natural act between two people right?

Sex, sex, sex! It makes us raise our eyebrows whenever we meet someone new. Subconsciously sizing people up, we discreetly glance from head-to-toe—while maintaining cursory eye contact, of course.

Is the person cute?

Maybe charming, awkward, gorgeous, too much make up, tall, or has that impeccable scruffy, yet handsome look going on.

Or, this stranger is rocking a beer gut; the muffin-tops swing you the wrong way.

Like my sister always says, “It’s not a judgment, it’s simply an observation.” But with all these physical characteristics embedded within our minds, are we forgetting the essence of attraction?

The mental stimulation where two people can discuss literature at a coffee shop seems utterly lost. It seems, nowadays, the only way students find their latest conquest lies at a bar or club.

Someone approaches a stranger, buys him or her a drink, and boom—that extra-long twin bed is fit for two. Is that what our generation thrives on? To stumble out of a taxi with random dude number 7 and have him leave in the morning?

Where is the passion?

Is a one-night stand all that is left? Is lust the replacement of making love? The gentle caresses and the whisperings of sweet nothings is swapped with raunchy engagements and carelessness.

I feel like the student population is seemingly obsessed with sex. For lack of a better explanation, we are indeed, generation sex. We bump-and-grind with complete strangers, bring them home and suffer that awkward and tense morning after.

But, of course, we all have an eight o’clock class on a Friday morning, right?

It’s the perfect little white lie we use to avoid that awkward silence in the morning. Our bed is our sanctuary. Where we spend a good portion of our lives, and it appears that some students are sharing their beds a little too often.

This is essentially the college stereotype. It is where you find yourself again. Whether it’s spiritually, emotionally or physically, it’s up to you.
Many believe that students are “easy,” and those that are still virgins feel pressured to give it up.

Here’s how it goes: upon going out for a few drinks, our minds seem to be in the gutter. After polishing off that pitcher of beer, we begin to scan the crowd of students, like a lion would prey.
The intentions are simple; getting laid is priority number 1, and 2, well that varies on the person.

Too many times have I heard, waiting in line or standing in an elevator, “Man I just really want to get laid tonight and forget about ___.”

Such thoughts seem preposterous; sleeping with someone new is only asking for more problems.

It doesn’t help that every time I go out, some random club promoter hands me lifestyle condoms and a shot. That combination still confuses me.

Thankfully, some students still believe in monogamous relationships, or at least dating, so not all hope for mankind is lost.

I don’t even want to know how many students here have STD’s. It would probably be enough to make me take a vow of celibacy.

However, one thing that I admit to be is a hopeless romantic. Several exes of mine have wooed me with flowers and cute dates that I’ll remember forever.

Now it seems that my current love interest believes watching television and ordering take out is the perfect date. Yes, I find it relaxing and adorable, but there is no romance or enduring qualities.

Maybe I expect too much. Or I have yet to adjust to this “hypersexual generation”. Incredibly thin walls separate these dorms. I can hear my suitemate cough at night, so I don’t know how I feel about having a random rendezvous in my dorm.

I can remember meeting a boy last year that only cared about getting into my pants.

The physical attraction was there, the mental stimulation seemed adequate, but then his unusual quirky lust took over. He begged me to meet him in one of the minarets to “do it.”

Wow, right? Way to sweep me off my feet. Not even Shakespeare has such eloquence and smooth tactics for wooing a lady.

It wasn’t just his forward boldness that turned me off, but the way in which he approached the situation. Of all the terms of making love and being intimate, he choose to label the sexual act as “it.”

Being the classy lady that I am, I would have even settled for calling it sex. Maybe even using the four-letter word that rhymes with duck was more appropriate. But “it” just seems childish and is probably why this generation may see the extinction of romance.

Hopefully, within the next few years, our level of affection will evolve.

Physical attraction will coincide with romance and lust will balance out with more than just a one-night-stand.
I look forward to meeting someone that understands my outlook on sex. Don’t get me wrong I am no Mother Theresa. Although I may be a bisexual Asian, believe me, Tila Tequila is definitely not my idol.

Narisa Imprasert can be reached at nimprasert@ut.edu.