Hot For Teacher

So things with NotElvis are progressing eversoslightly.

Over the past week, I have worked with him more than usual, due to the fact that (finally) our schedules overlapped so we worked basically the same shifts. We bonded over our English major/film/music compatibilities and thankfully both agreed that Land of the Dead is one of the stupidest of zombie films out there. The comfort level between the both of us has gotten a lot better. He so slyly let me know his age (26), his living arrangement (basement of his parents' house), and the reason he works retail now instead of a "real" job (hated teaching, had to stop).
I have a theory, which I put to use last night, but I will get to it in a minute.
After about 2 days of the same shift, I realized that he kept making excuses to walk past me or start a conversation. Usually, when I start my shift I'm getting over my last job so I usually ignore most people and start putting shit away. He would go out of his way to say hi and ask me how my day went. He'd act goofy and make me laugh.
Yesterday I was in a foul mood. I had worked until midnight, gotten 5 hours of sleep, worked 8-1 at my "real" job, then ran errands until work at 330. I had my glasses on and looked a mess.
NotElvis swooped by and goes "oh, do you wear glasses?" I looked at him and he had one of those "looks." A look that I had seen from the guy I used to date at my last retail job. NotVegas.
It's hard to explain, as usual, but I could tell that he was intrigued/smitten/attracted to my glasses look.
This is my theory. I call it the "glasses" theory. Either I somehow look like a hott teacher (i did have a skirt on and my hair back in a bun) or my lack of focus when looking at him (I can't see as well with my glasses on as with my contacts) created a dazed, "ooooh" effect. He grinned when I gave him a snappy comeback and then I went on my way. Later on, I reeled him in a bit more when I told him I brought in a book he might like to read. We had a little tet-a-tet about whether or not it actually took me 24 hours to read said book (long story... well not long, just not worth writing about) and again, I was on my way.
Reel him in, push him back out.
I need to figure out how to reel him in more than pushing him out. He sounds like a fish, I sound like I'm going to start spouting Paula Abdul lyrics.
I have made progress though. I agreed (for some god-awful reason) to go with him and two other coworkers to see "The Omen" at midnight on 6/6/6. The slight chance that I will get to sit next to him/have him scare the daylights out of me, therefore causing me to hit him(come in contact with him) is enough for me to brave a scary movie.
Thoughts? Comments? Ideas? All are welcome...

The Story of Not

Ever find yourself wondering why I got to be NotMiranda or how No Sex & the City (Not site) got together? Well, to be a bit self indulgent and because there have been requests (don't laugh!), I thought we'd do the flashback episode where the audience finds out interesting facts about the characters lives.

I'll refrain from the "long, long ago in a kingdom far away" since we're all really more Fresh Prince "now this is the story all about how my life got flipped,
turned upside down". Imagine four friends hovering over shared milkshakes and fries at a local diner late one evening and you can pretty much picture yourself there when the Not site was born. I had been thinking about the fact that I wasn't getting any and was talking to the girls about a blog about not having a man, lack of dating, etc. Conversation flowed and before you know it an idea was born. Four girls of varying ages who all work too hard and have found when we do have time to play it's not all it's cracked up to be.

Figuring out "who" we were didn't prove to be all that difficult. Let's face it, I got NotMiranda because I'm more career driven, more sarcastic and biting, would probably be the one to get accidentally knocked up for pity sex, and have red hair on most days. NotSamantha was also easy (pun intended). From dabbling in bondage to her growing sex toy treasure chest, NotSam could have only been one person. NotCarrie and NotCharlotte weren't as blatantly obvious. If we were basing all decisions on hair color, then we'd have to flip the two. In the end, NotCharlotte took on her persona because it just felt right. She would have the most trouble using cunt in a sentence, is probably going to be the first to get married, and I swear she has the Charlotte pout down pat! NotCarrie wasn't solely by process of elimination. She's just the right amount of saucy, has the hair that transitions from curly to straight, and was likely to post the most frequently ; )

Just an overview, but I do believe we're willing to entertain questions in the comment section.

Blast From The Past Scare

So without giving away too many details, the office I work in was in need of an outside contractor to do some work (the kind of work doesn't matter). What occurred to me, when the guy came in to do it, was that my ex-whatever does that kind of work and his company is in this area! Now the event today isn't exactly something I would write home about since the guy is just some stranger but it made me wonder what I would do if it had been him.

First, I would thank Jeebus I look cute today and my hair looks ok.

Second, I might hide, nullifying the status of the first thing.

I really would not want to have some reunion of sorts full of hellacious small-talk here at work. And then have to answer all of the, "You know him?" questions.

So basically, I'm glad today has been extremely uneventful.

I said no...

to having kids, right now and probably ever, and I don't feel bad about it.

*stands on large soapbox*

Now hear this! Now hear this! I don't particularly like children. They're cute when they smile, and they smell like baby powder and holding one for a few minutes is fine, but beyond that...I don't like the little buggers.

*and half of the readers of this blog go running into the dark, screaming words like 'childhater' and 'selfish'*

I remember fondly having the same dream that I imagine lots of other girls who are between the ages of 13 and 15 have about getting married and raising a pack of children. Then reality in the form of high school, college and the real world, slapped me around and made me realize that I don't usually want to take care of me let alone some tiny person. And this month's article in Bitch Magazine (issue no. 32) showed me that I'm not alone. Not that I thought I was, but its not something that people talk about.

I mean you don't see that lone female, guy or couple of a certain age, who are without the typical accoutrements of parenthood (read: pacifier, bottle, baby wipes, kiddie leash, etc.) and walk up to them and say casually, "no kids...good on you mate!" Its just not done. However, I did have a customer walk up to me on Mother's day and after wishing me a happy one "if you have kids," to which I responded without a beat, "Oh I don't like children." She was shocked, I wasn't. She quickly recovered with a refreshing, "I've never heard someone actually say that before." And surprisingly enough she wasn't offended at all. More like she was shocked to actually hear someone say it out loud.

I'll be up front about it, I'm selfish. I like my things the way they are, I like my body (sometimes) the way it is, I like having really cool glassware and going on trips (if I can afford them), and drinking a lot (if I want) and not having to worry about if some other soccer mom sees me, or if my kid's teacher sees me doing something else that isn't part of the parent approved behavior. I like being independent.

Having kids, while it brings a certain joy into the lives of some or many, doesn't do the same for me. It holds none of the happy, shiny thoughts it did when I was younger. In fact it has the opposite effect. I've got a niece and nephew and two godchildren. I haven't seen them in at least three years and while I take no pride in that, because I do have a heart (somewhere under this thick skin and through the barbed wire), I don't like being made to feel guilty by a society obsessed with procreation and everyone wanting, nay needing to have kids.

Instead, I'm perfectly happy to see my friends with kids, remark on how cute they are (or not remark at all if I don't think they're Gerber material), and move on. In ten years when I'm still childless and jetting off to Fiji or struggling to get pregnant I'll look back on this and either laugh at the irony of the situation or take another sip of my champagne in first class and wonder if I can fit a massage in when I touch down.

Space Sharing

I have had my share of roommates:

The one in college who had sex with her boyfriend while I was in the room because she thought I was asleep. (Like that should make it okay.) The other one I got stuck with who would eat KFC and cake all the time and spill it on my things then act like *I* was messy because my trash was full. The one who turned out to be the most pessimistic person I've ever known and I started having to sneak out of my apartment to go hang out with "mutual" friends who were starting to not like my roommate. Sure, it could have been worse but I wouldn't exactly call those three ideal.

So once I get career things settled and taken care of, I will be looking at new places to live and I have already decided that I do NOT want a roommate. I don't want another roommate until I'm married. Well, or living with the person I think I will marry. It's interesting to think about though-living with my boyfriend/fiance/husband. I've never lived with a significant other (thank GOODNESS) and am equally excited and nervous for when the time comes. (Which won't be for awhile, I don't think.)

It's just interesting to think about. I hope I don't turn into one of those ladies who has a husband who hasn't seen her without makeup on for 30 years or something. And I hope we don't have to have separate rooms because he snores. Also, it would be nice if he REALLY loves to wash dishes and fold clothes-my two least favorite things to do.

If I were ever going to get married...

I would have to have NotThatYoungAunt's wedding planner. She's got velvet hammer down to a science. And considering that she's been doing wedding planning for over 20 years and doesn't look like she's been dipped in a vat of silicone and shelacked (sp?) with hair spray this is definately a good thing.

The one thing about the impending nuptuals of this relative is that I'm starting to realize that love can come at you at any time. NotThatYoungAunt isn't that old (early to mid forties). And she's been married twice before, but this time it seems like its the real deal. She's happy with NotASmoker (don't ask) and he's over the moon with her. She makes me believe in love again and just when I was getting jaided about the whole dating thing.

In other news, it was the extended dance remix of "I need you to come back home" from my dad. I took him to lunch for a belated birthday present and listened to him as he told me all of his money/health/relationship woes and then proceeded to hit me up for money (rolls eyes). I love my dad, I do, but sometimes, this gets to be a bit much. He did however, mention something that I don't think he's ever said before...he needs me, but I can't help but wonder if he needs me because he doesn't have anyone else, or if he needs me because he needs me.

I'll take the good with the bad and just call this weekend even.

You Can't Go Home Again...

I read so much that I find that often my thought process flows like that of a novel, be it scifi, romance, horror, western or historical fiction.

Tomorrow will be one of the historical fiction days, since I'm about to do one of the things that I like the least and go back to my home town.

Now while this is usually chock full of the usual perks of seeing the family, getting some of my favorite chocolate and going to my favorite comic book store, it also means, that the longer I stay the longer I risk running into the group of people I went to high school with. I like to think of them as "The Others," because while we were close then, almost ten years have past and there's not much we share in common anymore. I sort of ripped out all of those roots when I went away to college.

Suffice it to say since I've just put this out in the open I have just guaranteed that I will run into the one person I don't want to see the most, my ex. This is the one person who manages to make an appearance at my mother's house no matter how obscure the day of my visit.

Also, to add gas to the already smoldering fire of my defeat, I'm dealing with NotThatYoungAunt's wedding planner since I will be one of four hostesses in this wedding (more on that later). Right now, I'm just hoping the dress will fit, the weekend will be short and the ex-file can stay closed and in my condemned high school always like it belongs.

Love>Lust>Infatuation

As I was heading towards my daily work starting page online, I saw a link for a How To article about How To Tell The Difference Between Love, Infatuation, And Lust. I still, at age 26, have not been able to clearly make distinctions between these feelings. Unlike my sister, who says people are too careful with using the big L word (love, for those still half asleep), I probably fall into the camp of saving it for perfect moments and situations. It's not something I guard and I'm not holding onto it like a nun and her virginity, or placing it on a too-high pedestal but, it makes me cringe when it's thrown around. To reference one of my favorite shows, did you hear what George said to Callie on Grey's Anatomy? He wanted to wait to say "I love you" back to her and make sure she knew he meant it. Not the obligatory response to someone else saying it. I loved it when George said that. It's so true.

But anyway, so this article gives a way to make distinctions between these feelings (love, lust, infatuation).

Step 1 is to write down words you associate with the person you feel strongly about such as sex, butterflies, snoring, annoying, holding hands, etc.

Step 2 says to circle each feeling with a different color: green for love, yellow for infatuation, and red for lust. (Why doesn't love=red?)

Step 3 then says to see which color stands out. If there is not a clear winner, then move on to the following steps.

Step 4 sucks and says to read scriptures or literature that describes love. Yuck! I don't want to do that because I have enough trouble listening to songs about love and not totally melting.

Step 5 might be good for feedback but will be hard to actually do. Ask friends (or other third party) to give their opinion on what kind of feeling they think it is. Show them your color coded list. I couldn't do this. I would be embarrassed because I wouldn't want to explain to someone the reasons why I may or may not love a person.

Step 6 I could do. Watch a movie that might show the feelings you suspect you have. Cruel Intentions is all about lust, Titanic is about holding onto love forever, The Notebook is about love, etc.

This is an interesting idea, working through complicated feelings by writing them down. Is it possible though to be in lust with someone for years? Or to be infatuated with a person for an extended period of time. Well, yeah, I guess so. I'm thinking of a list of examples, haha!

So Close

NotTaylor was just inches away from me. We shared a moment looking up sex offenders (don't ask, but it's not as weird as it sounds) and he came around to look at my computer monitor and omg, he was inches away.


Let's just say that to a girl who really is itching for her next kiss, it took a lot of self restraint...

eFriend To Real Friend

NotCarrie:
I started to get nervous on Friday like I was inching closer to a date starting or something. I was more conscious of my outfit and how my hair looked, was my makeup okay, do I have things to talk about? Am I going to disappoint in person?

Let me back up a little...Champagne in the elevator? No, before that...

Meeting someone I've met online. I've only met one person from the internet before and he definitely lived up to his nickname, NotCreepyInternetBoyfriend (NotCIBF), so it's an adventure I had been hesitant to try again. But meeting a friend from the internet? Sure! Why not? So Friday night, I met up with NotMiranda in the city with plans to meet up with NotBarmaid later that evening. We had some time to waste so we spent most of it drinking: chugging the delicious nectar that is champagne in an elevator, Woodchucks at Busboys and Poets, and finally, being winos at the BYOB HR57.

I had a splendid time but hope that next time (yes, a second "date"!) there will be more wine and less volume-it was tough to get good conversation going with NotJazzyJeff blaring away on the sax and our long list of things to discuss: 90210, Uncle Jesse, dating, lack-of-dating, etc.

NotMiranda?

NotMiranda:
Like NotCarrie (or maybe not) I was a little nervous at meeting an online friend in person. Not only is the anonymous nature of this blog a comfort, like I've heard said again and again, making a new friend is a lot like dating. I had a great time hanging with NotCarrie and an even better time doing the friend "interview" with NotBarmaid. Fun, hot and sassy...any girl who can drop the f-bomb with such flair is a friend of mine! Even funnier were my post-get together thoughts. Did I come across as lame? Was I boring? Do you think she'll email again? Hahaha! No wonder I'm a picky dater and keep my group of friends small and tight-knit.

Hot Night Crash

So i got in a fender-bender today. NOthing serious, i just wasn't paying attention and rear ended the car in front of me. I didn't make any marks on their car.
The lady in the car was UBER nice, I mean she joked about it like "you wrecked my mercedes" as she wiped some dirt off the back bumper of her honda.
But why couldn't it have been a hot guy? I mean seriously. We would have both pulled into the CVS parking lot, locked eyes, and then traded a bit more than insurance information... if you know what I mean.
This weekend I'm going to New Jersey with NotHusband, which I am looking forward to. What I am not looking forward to is us going to a bar in NJ and him collecting all of my attention so I can't flirt with hot mafia guys and make them buy me drinks.
Last Saturday we went to my place of business so I could change my schedule for said trip, as well as flirt with the cute guys there. Before we went in I go "make sure you don't act like my boyfriend" and he was like "alright, but I never do..."
I didn't feel like explaining to him that when he's with me, it's like we're a couple because that's just how he acts.
He proceeded to stay as far away from me as possible in the store and I believe I bruised his ego, but oh well.
Then he furthered my annoyance at him. As we left, I told him which one NotElvis was and he was like "oh. him? hm." and made a face.
That little fucker.

I know I complain about him a lot and I'm sure you ask yourself "NotCharlotte, then why are you friends with him and hang out with him constantly?"
Because honestly, I have a good time with him when:
a. there are no men around
b. we do what he wants to do
c. i drive the car.

i'm kidding. I just have to accept that he, like quite a few of my friends, is very self-centered. He just happens to fit that category more than most.

Step In When...

My sister and I were talking last night about certain behaviors we never want to have while in a relationship. I hesitate to list them for fear of offending someone but I'm going with the trusty "to each their own" mantra. Just know that most of these behaviors are ones that become obnoxious at a high level or when combined with other annoying things.

1. Always Having To Touch Him/Her: I say him/her because I not only will not constantly have to have a hold on my boyfriend, but if he tries to do that to me, it's over. I had a FRIEND once (friend, not even my boyfriend) who was so possessive like that and would always have to be in contact with me. I don't look at it as being sweet, I find it annoying. (And as a note to any future beau, do NOT touch my sides, I will freak out. And do not, under any circumstance, tickle me. Ever. EVER!)

2. Having To See Each Other All The Freaking Time: This is mostly a complaint my sister has since she lives in a dorm room and feels the direct effects of this. It's like when someone loses their own identity because they're so busy just being where their sig. other is. (Can I just say that whenever I think "significant other" my mind first thinks "sig fig" as in "significant figures" a la way too many science classes...anyway.)

3. Obnoxious Pet Names: I've never been given a pet name from a guy and it's something I am very okay with. The closest is probably the drunk slur of my name NotRoger used to say but I tried to ignore those. Letting a "honey" or "Sweetie" out every once and awhile doesn't bother so much as "Hey Schnookalumpagooshypants!" or "Oh, Sugarlips..." do. "Boo" is on the fence for me. I call everyone boo but have always clearly defined the difference in calling a friend, boo, and a boyfriend, boo. I do believe I have helped the word "boo" to infiltrate the vocabulary of most everyone I know including my mother, my father, my boss, and my coworker who is in her 50s. I am proud of my achievements but am not sure I could call my boyfriend, boo, without vomiting.


4. Excessive PDA- Nevermind the fact that I totally want to *christen* the backseat of my car, I'm not a fan of crazy public displays of affection. (Besides, I plan on it being night and very dark and possibly on the most secluded road ever when my backseat is *christened*.) This one can kind of go hand in hand with #1 if the sig fig other constantly has to be touching the other and really seals the deal with letting every person in the area know that, yes, I can stick my tongue down his/her throat! This is another fine line area and I'm not sure how to define where it starts to become very annoying to me. Maybe when I start to wonder if I'm watching porn, or when I feel like I might have syphilis. And I've totally been guilty of PDA in my time, so maybe I shouldn't talk but my moments in public (parties don't count) are few and far between and most often with strangers so I really can't be blamed as it's just not safe to makeout with strangers in private areas. I prefer the public arenas where yelling for help, if needed, would be followed by actual help and not my own voice bouncing off the dingy motel's walls. But I kid, I'm a kidder. I'd never go to a dingy motel room with a stranger. (The Wyndham is considered nice, right? Ha, a story for another time, perhaps.)


So yeah, those are just a few things on my list. My sister has strict instructions to stage an intervention if I start down these lonely paths of desperation.

Breathless

Do you ever has those guys you don't know but see every now and then? And every time you see them they make your heart race and you get a little breathless? I have one of those. I don't know his name or anything about him. I just know that I see him all over both D.C. and Fairfax. We lock eyes...my heart races. My cheeks are like two rosy mood rings betraying my interest. I saw him again last night and have decided it's about time I go in for the kill.

Subconscious Kissing

I keep having first kiss dreams. The kind where the subconscious scene is what would make the near perfect reality. Where it's perfect but awkward at the same time and there is the moment where someone leans in and somehow it works. And after a moment someone finally breaks away because it's too soon to know each other's subtle kissing cues. But just for a quick reassesment because neither person wants it to end and maybe this time the other person leans in.

I keep having these first kiss dreams and they're the kind where I not only remember them clearly the next day but I swear they're haunting me. Why can't I just have a sex dream like normal people and wake up and say, "Hmmm, I just banged Mr. JT" and then go on with my day and forget it before I remember to tell anyone. But no, I have to dream of these perfect little moments and then relive them all day long because for some reason everything reminds me of them.

And the worst part is, I'm not dreaming of some celebrity or of a person with a nameless face. That wouldn't be a big deal. That wouldn't stick with me all day long. But no, my subconscious kissing partner keeps being the same face and each time I have this dream (we're going on a handful of times now) it's like throwing a wrench in an otherwise well-working operation. I know it sounds melodramatic to be making a big deal about these first kiss dreams but it's like my resting mind is mocking me and calling me a liar. "You can't be over him! You're dreaming about him!" and then I wake up and go through my day wondering not only what my dreams mean but also what those kisses would mean in real life and are they ever possible and would they be as perfect as in my dream and then...and then I realize the wrench has been thrown and all bets are off and I have to give in and be a girly girl for awhile and daydream and let myself wonder.

Wondering sucks. Wondering is like pressing your nose against the window from the wrong side of the party.

To Hell in a Handbasket...

I think I'm done with the dating bit. Right now I can't get over the hangups I've got and I can't get me together enough to be happy or even interested in the guys I'm dating. So far there have been four.

NotAtAllAttractedTo: He was just physically unappealing, however, for the sake of looking deeper I accepted date number two, only he didn't bother to call for it and I had decided to call it off based on sound advice from NotMiranda and NotCharlotte.

NotClosetedHornyCatholic: Pious and a dom. Willing to go to confession and want to strip me naked in the same breath. Maybe I was the reason he needed to go to confession. I'll do ten Hail Mary's and not call him in the morning.

NotObsessedwithTennis: Great conversation, lots to talk about and two weeks later, "I'm not ready to be there for someone like the way its supposed to be". Scratch that, great conversation and an overwhelming sense of reading way too deep into a first date.

and finally,

NotRum: Able to start conversation without introducing himself first. Able to be funny and manage to hold my attention for large periods of time, but falling short *way short* in my height requirement department. And his most cardinal sin to date...being late after asking me to make time to see him today.

So at this end of this 2 months of venturing into the dating world via the online personal ad, all I can say is that while I did get a nibble or two I was overall very disappointed.

This jaunt was shot to hell in handbasket and I can't even begin to drum up the enthusiasm to try it again. Maybe being single is a better strategy.

So here's my dilemma, is it better to just date and hope that love happens along, or should I continue to look for it in what I'm coming to see are all the wrong places? A little advice everyone if you would.

S.O.S.

I shoulgd nota be allowed tod rink on mayo de cinco.
happy mayo de cinco to evryboody
in theclubbge tting dipsy.

:-)

i wentto a pornshop with notmsantha. and oht husbnad. it wasnitntersting. he wasbulshing.

i nedd too sleep and rpobyaly delte this tomorrwos.

A Well Hung Pharaoh

Have you ever seen a better headline than, "King Tut's Penis Rediscovered"? And it's not only one of the greatest headlines ever but the article is a stand out piece of work too.

"At first look, Burton's pictures may seem to indicate that King Tut could have been a little better endowed. But according to mummy expert Eduard Egarter Vigl, the pharaoh was normally built."

First of all, Poor King Tut is totally blushing in the afterlife at this embarassment of his endowment size being guessed to be merely normal. King Tut was a total stud, I'm sure, back in the day c. 1333 B.C. and now he's being compared to Otzi, the IceMan who is described as having, "an almost invisible member" due to mummification and dehydration.

"All was normal in King Tut. The penis is a highly vascularized organ and shrinks when it is mummified. Actually, King Tut has been flattered by the embalmers' work. There is no comparison with Ötzi's penis," Egarter told Discovery News."

OK, so sure, there's no comparison with IceMan but as the stud he was and mummifiably is (haha, I made up a word?), he deserves better!

So I, NotCarrie, am starting new slang. "My boyfriend is a total King Tut" is now the equivalent to, "Hot Damn, my boyfriend, Clive Owen, is a total man-beast in the bedroom!"


(Although I'd never, ever say something like that outloud. I like to respect Clive's privacy)

Is that a Venti in your pocket?

So this morning on my way to work I decided to stop by a local Starbucks for something caffienated. I walk in and there's this hot guy working the bar, so I turn on the charm and smile at him.
Apparently, the lady in line before me had spilled something all over the counter. I didn't think much of it and proceeded to order my drink.
The hot guy was mopping up the counter with a towel, looks at the other girl behind the counter and goes "Don't make her pay for it, there's a mess on the counter." Then he smiled at me with his baby blues sparkling and I told him I'd be back again tomorrow.

Also, at the other Starbucks near my work, there's a guy that works there (too old for me, not cute) that gives me free espresso shots and also doesn't make me pay full price for venti drinks.

It's all in the power of a smile.

Maybe I'm in the wrong line of business...

Feelin' the spurs

Not sure you'll recall, but leading up to my 30th birthday I decided to make some bold moves. Unfortunately, months later I am now left questioning my judgement in such a strategic decision. NotCowboy was the 40-something heartthrob I lusted after for months. We had clicked early on through our work on a mutual work project. So...upon realizing I was about to enter what I officially considered real "adulthood", I called and left a message on his machine explaining I enjoyed his company and was interested in getting to know him better outside of a work environment. I was really interested in jumping his bones, but tact, at least, kept me from saying that. I never heard back from him and pretty much let it roll right off my back. After all, it was only lust and the work project we shared was wrapping up. So, why bring this up now? I found out a little over a week ago that there was a big media event for the project we had partnered with his company on. Normally, this is the kind of event we would have helped plan and would definitely have been there. However, did I even know about it? Did he call me or email to ensure I was in the loop? Hell, no. Is this something he would have normally done pre-friendly message? Hell, yes. It now appears that my decision to be forthcoming about my feelings will effect my position on a work project. Sigh. Sad to learn even older men still retain the immature gene.