Ronda Rousey, Failure & Perseverance

•March 11, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Failure is always an option. It is the most common and valid option available to the human species.

Anyone who tells you that failure is NOT an option has their head up their ass, respectfully.

Ask ANYONE who is considered successful in any field, and they will tell you that they have experienced failure after failure after failure en route to their success. The secret to success is failure and the ability to persevere and learn from your failures. A failure is a lesson. It’s up to the individual to recognize and value that lesson.

Which brings me to Ms. Rousey. I’ve held off writing about her for months now because of the vehemence in which others have lashed out at her and about her after her loss to Holly Holm on 11.14.15.

I have the utmost respect for both women for the courage and drive they possess to even be willing to get in a cage and fight another human being. The will power to get up every day and train 2, 3, 4 times a day for hours on end to improve one skill by a fraction of a percent. The sheer determination to say no to your favorite food and drink because you know that it will set back your goals by that many more hours or days of training. The desire to keep going when everyone else tells you that you can’t.

Recently, on Ellen, Ronda admitted to having suicidal thoughts after her loss to Holly. People freaked the fuck out, saying she was weak and should not ever be considered a role model. EVERYONE attacked her.

To me, this simple admission gives me more of a reason to admire and respect her as a woman, a human being, and as a competitor. Most professional athletes will never admit to something like that, even though they may have felt it. There are a ton of athletes that seek the help of sports psychologists for a reason.

Admitting feelings of depression and suicide do NOT make you weak. Just as crying doesn’t make you weak either. To me, the ability to admit such things is a sign of strength, and a sign that you have grown on your path to healing to be able to admit such a thing to the whole world.

Very few people know this, but there was a time in my life where I was deeply depressed and suicidal. It was when I was 13 – 14 years old and struggling not only with accepting my sexuality, but also with parents with alcohol and addiction issues. I did actually attempt to take my life once. I took an entire bottle of Tylenol, and drank some Absolut that I had managed to get a hold of. Not only did I not die, but I stayed awake all night listening to music.

This was the night before I was slated to leave for music camp for the first time. That night transformed my life. That night, when I failed to die, I realized that I was stronger than I had ever given myself credit for. The whole next week I was surrounded by people who accepted me for exactly who I was and loved me for it. That week I began to grow into the person I am today.

I sought out help at school the following year. Alateen and spoke with a counselor about my own personal struggle. By the end of the school year I had come out to a handful of people. By the following fall semester I had my first girlfriend and I never looked back.

I hit the lowest point of my young life and persevered. I came out of it stronger. I learned that I could see a positive in EVERY situation and work with it.

If an average kid in suburban America can do this, why can’t a famous athlete? Why do we have to tear down celebrities? Why do we have to try to make ourselves bigger somehow? Why is it that every time there is an opportunity for an intelligent, open conversation about mental health, depression, or suicide, people react this way?

I for one am tired of it. If I have to share my many, MANY failures and my many, MANY lows to help change the conversation and the temperature in the room when it comes to these topics, then I absolutely will.

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Monster

•March 6, 2016 • 6 Comments

Some days I feel like I am a monster. Some days I feel like I am a quivering pile of intestines.

Sticking to my convictions and not settling is not only grueling and difficult, but it’s slowly changing me. I’m not certain if it’s for the better yet or not. I’m worried that it will turn me callous and cold in the long run – something that for 34 years I have managed to avoid.

Maybe I am just (once again and very true to form) overthinking things again. Perhaps I am so terrified of becoming a soulless asshole that I am already projecting…much the same way that I lament how others project their own feelings and presumptions onto me.

I have become a new version of myself that I never imagined. Strong in ways that I wouldn’t have pictured. I guess maybe this is part of what I am struggling with.

When did I become the sort of person who can listen to someone cry and just sit there? When did I stop blaming myself for everyone else’s emotional outbursts (however illogical that always was)? When did I cross that line?

I used to be so affected by other people’s emotions that I would apologize for everything. Things that absolutely were not my fault. Things so completely out of the realm of being within my control that they bordered on the ridiculous. But now?

Now I’m more selective in my apologies. It’s not just a blanket, “I’m sorry. What can I do?”, it’s, “I’m sorry that you feel that way. Do you want to talk about why you feel that way?”. It may just be semantics, but I realized that when it happened the other day, afterwards, I kind of felt like a dick because I didn’t take it to heart. I knew it wasn’t my fault. Wasn’t my doing.

I guess maybe I’m finally figuring some important shit out at 34. Or maybe I am turning into a callous, cold asshole. Maybe that’s the big change in me? Maybe it’s not the haircut afterall…maybe I finally figured out the secret all those women possessed that I used to pine over, year after year who didn’t give two shits about me growing up…they simply cared about themselves more?

I don’t want to be a monster though. I just want to be respected and loved for who I am and not what I look like. I want the love I deserve, not the ersatz infatuations I’ve always settled for before.

I cannot deny that I have changed. I know that some would happily and gleefully call me a selfish cunt, but is it really selfish to not want to have to always sacrifice and compromise to please someone else? Is it really selfish to be single versus miserable in a relationship where there is no communication and no middle ground? Is it such a terrible thing to want to be able to get back to how things were when I was 15 and fell in love for the first time with someone else who was just as enamored with discovering new things about herself as she was with discovering new things about and with me? Is it?

I don’t think so…but maybe that’s just the monster talking.

Rawr.

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Habits

•March 1, 2016 • 1 Comment

I’m starting to wonder if maybe there is something wrong with me. Am I slowly turning into a pretentious asshole against my better judgement? Or has it simply been so long since I’ve felt genuinely happy without a sense of dread or “what is this going to cost me” that my sense of emotions are just fucking screwed?

Case for the pretentious dick: As I’m writing this I am using a bamboo laptop tray. I bought a fucking bamboo laptop tray. Not even to use for my actual laptop (full disclosure, I’m writing on my iPad, which I also bought a keyboard case for), but to fucking color on! Yeah, I adult color. A “hobby” I picked up last spring as a method to try to stay sane. Now it’s this huge trendy thing and I’m kind of annoyed by that. 

Secondly, I’m listening to goddamned Claire de Lune via headphones even though my roommate isn’t home, so really, who gives a shit? Mostly though, I write sometimes listening to classical music. That’s also a new habit of mine. I’d like to say I read it gets the creative juices flowing, or some other bullshit, but really, I have no idea why I do it. One night I just decided that I wanted to listen to some, and it has become my defacto choice while writing.

Third point: I’ve been openly telling people I’m an asshole and a dick. I think I’m only being partially sarcastic. I am absolutely fucking judging you based on a myriad of things, the least of which is your grammar and punctuation in text messages and on social media. I’ve become that guy. I have become so fucking irritated with ignorance and vapidness that I am openly hostile with people who believe in things like fucking chemtrails and creationism, but the scary part is, they either don’t realize it, or think that I’m fucking kidding! No! I truthfully think you’re a goddamn moron! Here’s a fucking science book.

Point the fourth. THE BIG DEAL. I’m just so blah about some things that I should have been excited about. OK, so maybe this one really fits more into the “Emotionally Screwed” category…

***Up for debate***

OK, so a few posts/months ago I posted that I was going to give dating a try again. After two disastrous attempts of friends trying to set me up with people that resulted in me just laughing manically internally for hours, I didn’t move the need at all. Not a single date. Nothing. Which, whatever, it’s winter, I fucking hibernate. Then the first week of February I get messaged by a for real lesbian matchmaker out of the blue. I didn’t seek her out, wasn’t even actively really using my stupid PoF account. 

So the matchmaker wants to set me up on a blind date. I was SUPER cautious about the whole thing, but after some checking, I accepted. The woman was nice, truly, and very intelligent, but she was much older than I was expecting and had a 7 year old. I think I’ve made it pretty clear across the universe at this point that I’m so not into kids. I have ZERO desire to be a parent. I’m 34 and I barely feel like I’ve lived life at all. No thank you.

So, yeah. Failure. Chalk it up to whatever. 

Then I have another date a week later. Once again, great conversation, time flew by, but I can’t help but feel like I should have felt something other than just relief that I was able to have intelligent conversation. I can’t decide if I’ve just been so starved for intellectual stimulation that this is why all I seem to be able to focus on is that, or if maybe I was right 2 years ago and I’m just not feeling the same things I used to anymore. 

I thought things were looking up after I stopped the birth control, but now I’m just not so sure. Maybe I just want certain things so much that anything else just won’t do it for me anymore? I mean, I guess the only way I will find out is by trying, but I’m not just going to fuck someone as an experiment. That’s just low, even for me. 

I don’t know if this is a physical, hormonal thing, or a mental, getting my shit together thing. I’ve settled and compromised so much in my past that I know that I’ve done a lot of self convincing that I’m not doing that ever again. Maybe I’ve just hit that point where as much as I’ve always felt I’m made to be with someone, being single and celibate is just the smartest choice I could make. I mean, I’m on Tinder now too, and I feel like all I do is swipe left. 

I fucking suck at dating, and I need too much. Meanwhile, I am the best fucking practice relationship a woman could ask for apparently. True to form. Which is just. Well. I’ve written about that before. I am not going to sit here at 3AM and rehash that whole fucking farce.

So yeah. I guess I’m just a dickish, douchebag, asshole. Who also might have lingering bedroom issues. 
Single. Celibate. Probably for the best.

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It Must Be The Hair…

•February 14, 2016 • Leave a Comment

Have you ever had a random flux of things just happen so suddenly and so unexpectedly that you just are left wondering what changed? Something had to have happened or changed to trigger everything…right? Right?

For me, that’s how the past few weeks have been. Hence the quip. It must be the hair…

I mean, nothing else has really changed. It’s cold. I’m always wearing multiple layers. I’m working overtime on my days off. I’m still not sleeping as much as I should and getting by on (probably) way too much caffeine. I’m still the same sarcastic, observant, intense, bookworm, cat-loving pain in the ass person I’ve always been.

I deliberately say and post things to ferret out people who are racist or homophobic or anti-science. I make no secret that I am opinionated and strong-willed. Yet lately…lately this is actually working for me.

There have been many new people that have entered my life. Quite a few people who have become more active in my life, and some who’ve suddenly just become warmer to me in general.

Work has been going extremely well. I feel solid in my new position, and I feel that I am excelling with my increased responsibilities and expectations. The schedule change has been rough…to be honest I am still trying to adjust to it…but I know that I will rise to this challenge as I have risen to every other challenge presented to me before.

The only dark spot the past few months has been Nova’s health. He’s been to the vet’s over a dozen times since November for a few different issues, and most of the problems have been resolved, but I am still struggling with accepting that he is getting older, and he will likely simply have health issues for however many years he has left with me. He’ll be 12 this year…I’d say considering things, as a cat, he’s still very healthy for his age. Currently we’ve discovered he has a slight heart murmur, and he has developed an incontinence issue whenever he sleeps, but there is no sign of diabetes or a urinary blockage, and his kidney function is in the normal range. I could put him through additional invasive testing, but I’ve chosen to stick with medication and just monitoring the situation.

I guess really, I’m probably more stressed out about him than I’ve readily admitted to anyone, now that I am writing things down. It’s very frustrating and I know that he’s not happy at all when he wakes up and he’s wet. Not to mention, I’m constantly cleaning up after him because of it. I can’t bring myself to crate him while I’m at work or while I’m sleeping, so I’m always spraying the carpet where he lays or my bed with Nature’s Miracle and Febreeze, and shampooing and changing out my linens.

Other than that though, he is a happy cat. He’s eating well, he plays, he still wants to cuddle and be a part of everything. He still fights with Gia. I guess maybe I haven’t been sharing all of this with too many people because I’m afraid they’ll say I should put him down or tell me I’m wasting my money bringing him to different vets and having different tests done to try to find out what is going on. To me, spending $3,000 on vet bills in the past couple of months to try to help him is a very small price to pay. I adopted him in 2006, and he has been my constant companion since then. To me, he and Gia are like children.

Wow. I’ve gotten very off topic from what I had intended to write about…guess I really did need to get all of that off of my chest.

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Ambition, Baby

•November 28, 2015 • Leave a Comment

So, it took me a year longer than it probably should have, but considering what I was going through personally a year ago, I’m giving myself a pass on this one, but I finally got the promotion everyone said and thought I deserved last year. 

I never gave up. No matter how low I felt about myself personally, I NEVER gave up professionally. I still brought it to work every single day. I battled through depression, anger, apathy…I mean, I was a complete wreck for a few months after the break-up…but I still managed to put my head down and do everything I needed to do to make sure that the next time the opportunity presented itself, I could NOT be denied. All the overtime, all the weeks where I had one day off or no days off…it all contributed. 

Now I embark on a new professional journey. Humble. Hopeful. Excited. Respectful. 

This past year has taught me so much. I’ve experienced some of the worst emotional pain I’ve ever endured…but I’ve made it through to the other side intact. Stronger. Changed. I’ve (finally, and yes, begrudgingly) learned how to ask for help. 

Am I where I wish I was 100%? No. Is that OK? Absolutely! I have dreams and goals and ambition…but I don’t have a 5 year plan. I don’t have a six month plan. There are things I would like to experience, places I would like to go…people I hope to meet, but I understand I can’t plan for it. Things are going to happen how they are going to happen. 

I am typing in the dark in my very comfortable bed, one cat with a bandage around his neck snoring at the foot, one cat curled up in the empty spot at my side with her paws over her nose. To me, this is perfect, peaceful, and calm. 

I’m not trying to impress anyone. I’m sorry if that is what you came here for. I am 34 and to me I am utterly unimpressive. I work a ton. I care way too much about work related tasks. I dote on my furkids. I tolerate my soon to be (yet again) unemployed father and take care of his bills when he needs it…even though I would not classify myself as being “close” with ANY of my family, or being a “family” person…but simply because to me, this is the right thing (morally) to do.

I realize this makes me highly unusual, and likely undesireable as a potential mate, since I “share” a lease and apartment with him. I know this is a major reason why my mother left him, but his inability to maintain employment doesn’t change the fact that as shitty of a relationship as we may have had throughout my life, he is still my father. (I guess this means that if I was a heterosexual male, and I was in a relationship with a female and the birth control failed and she got pregnant, I would be that person who would marry because it would be the morally right thing to do – even though I am not at ALL religious.)

It is very strange for me, making friends as an adult, because inevitably they will question my being single, and I just don’t have answers. Why do I stay single so long in between relationships? Well, I don’t think it’s healthy or approprate to jump from person to person. Why am I passing up “easy” sex? Gee, because I have way more respect for myself and other females than to go to bars  to snag drunk tail. Why am I not more proactive on dating sites? Again, because it just doesn’t seem a natural fit for me. I’m way too honest and hard to pin down in 300 words of less. Everyone who gets to know me tends to love me, so I just feel like the one for me will develop organically. Does this mean I’m probably going to be single for another year or more? Maybe. But, I am absolutely, unequivocally OK with this.

I am way past that point in my life where I am just dating to pass the time. Truth be told I was never that kind of woman. I’ve always approached EVERY relationship as if it would be my last. I have always given every partner my all. I don’t know any other way to “date” to be frank. Maybe this has been to my detriment, but I have learned so much by operating this way. 

My two newest tattoos should tell you all you need to know about me…phoenix feathers on my forearm (no hiding them), and a chest rocker that says “In Omnia Paratus”. I am not afraid of permanence. Of boldness. Of commitment. The proof is evident all over my body. 

The only question is…who is ready to match me?

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Feel The Rain On Your Skin…

•June 1, 2015 • 5 Comments

How does that saying go? Don’t stress about the storms, learn how to dance in the rain? Yeah…I know I likely just butchered that, but you know what I mean.

I’ve done a lot of introspection and growing…not just over the past few months, but over the past few years. I’m in a place now where I couldn’t have imagined I could have been 5 years ago…shit, even 6 months ago. I am oddly at peace with everything that has happened in my life and lead me to where I stand. I have this incredible sense of rightness and hope that I can’t attribute to anything in particular. 

Are there still things that aren’t the way I want them to be? Absolutely! But I am not stressing about them. I just am living my life day by day and doing me. Even on a day like today where I woke up feeling so nauseous I could barely choke down my migraine medication, I still feel light and just serene. 

It’s almost like a cosmic, karmic weight has just faded completely away the past few days, and I can’t pinpoint a reason why. I haven’t met anyone new. Haven’t been on any dates. Haven’t gotten a raise or promotion. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened in my life other than just waking up every day with a different outlook. 

I wonder if it’s possible that life really does just open up for you at the exact right times? I can remember feeling like this once before, almost two years ago…and well, the things that ensued didn’t exactly end with a happily ever after, but I learned a LOT about myself in the process. Is it possible that I finally had my practice round? Am I prepped and ready for the real thing? 

Some will probably not understand this, but I have held off on purchasing a home and really buckling down and saving money towards that goal until I meet her. The one I absolutely will spend the rest of my life with. Getting married and buying a home are two things I only ever want to do once. Call me old fashioned. I’m sure people already think me odd for far less mundane reasons than that…

I don’t look sad anymore. The pain has left my eyes. The laughter and sparkle have returned. 

So wherever you are, my future lover, know I’m ready and waiting for you…whole, happy, and continuing to work on myself and on becoming a better person, always. 

Until we meet – I hope that you don’t know too much pain.

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Feel The Beat..Beat…Beat…

•May 31, 2015 • Leave a Comment

I’m not sure why I have such a love for “dance” music but I do. It’s sort of ironic actually, considering that I don’t think I can dance for shit, but listening to house or even trance or EDM just always seems to bring me to this headspace where I’m just in a good mood or calm.

Maybe it’s part of my “gay DNA” as one of my friends likes to joke. I mean, I have been in and out of gay clubs and bars over the years since I was 16, since they were among the first places I ever felt accepted for being myself. Then of course was my brief stint in college where I was doing quite a few drugs whilst out at said bars and clubs. I think at one point in time I used to think I could dance. I know I definitely used to have a much better body to at least pretend I could dance.

I still dance around like a fool in my apartment or in the driver’s seat of my car on a daily basis, but it’s been over 5 years since I’ve been out to a gay bar or club, and the last time I tried to dance was at a wedding with my ex and she fucking shamed me, so yeah. (Yeah, I know, ex for a multitude of reasons…)

I’ve actually lost a lot of confidence in myself over the years as far as my physical appearance and willingness to just be a fucking goofball…I’m trying to reclaim it all. Don’t let the smattering of grey hairs and the food belly pudge fool you – I certainly do NOT feel my 33 years. I feel like I still have a lot of milage left and a lot of fun experiences and years to offer the right person…just need to find another goofball with the same level of intellect and ability to be serious, with some of the same extracurricular interests as me! I know she’s gotta be out there.

I know I’ve been writing about wanting to date a lot lately…call it manifesting things into fruition or what have you I guess…

I have this image in my head of kissing someone under the starts this summer while Calvin Harris – Feel So Close is playing in the background. Because I truthfully believe my life would be so much more awesome with a soundtrack, and I already know what some of the key moments should be set to. I know, I know, I know. By now you all should realize that I’m not your normal plain Jane kind of dyke. For fuck’s sake, I just bought a new car and named her Khaleesi! (Side note, totally satisfying to spend all that money that was earmarked for something else on myself! I highly recommend everyone spoil and splurge on themselves at some point in life if you can afford it!)

Other side note about me not being just your average run of the mill New England lesbo – I really don’t care for the outdoors unless it involves a fire and drinking with food or something to do with the beach and ocean. I would go out on a boat all day every day if I could. Water has ALWAYS had a calming effect on me, and I love the open water especially. It makes me feel vibrant and alive. To be honest, being on a boat turns me on. Pretty sure being outside with the salt air is not a normal aphrodesiac, but hey. There you go ladies. Now you know a secret to getting into my pants…take me out on the open water in a boat! (I’m totally kidding…that wouldn’t cause me to put out if it were a first or second date.)

I wish I had paid more attention in my play/screenwriting class in college…I have so many fantastic ideas that would make great movies. I mean…I know I would watch them. Come on…a hot, passionate kiss under the moon and the stars in the middle of summer, moon reflecting off of water, Calvin Harris swelling in the background…two minds, heart, bodies and souls coming together – possibly in bikinis? Who wouldn’t want to see that love story happen? (I may be a little intense…promise that it’s all in good ways though!)

I will say this much…I do feel better mentally and psychically than I have in a long time. My heart feels light…I feel ready for anything that life is going to have in store for me…and I can’t help but feel like something truthfully amazing and life changing is on it’s way to me. Maybe that’s corny, but I’ve been feeling a shift and a change within myself and the energy around me, and I feel like it’s all leading up to something major. I can’t wait to see where the rest of my life is going to take me.

I’m so ready!

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Top Chef & Tunes…

•May 31, 2015 • Leave a Comment

This is my current flow…as well as my very needy and persistant son trying to get as close as he possibly can to me on my right side…making it difficult for me to type!

He’s been my constant companion since 2006 though, so he’s totally allowed to make some things in my life more difficult!

Honestly, as much as I like nights out with people, checking out different spots, people watching, and seeing some live music…I really do like having many more nights like this. Just me, my cats, whatever food I decide to make, something good to stream and either a good book or some good music to listen to while I relax or write. Yeah, I know, makes me sound way older than 33…but truth be told, as much as I love “dance” music, I can’t dance for shit, and I’m not really a fan of any of the “gay” spots here in CT. 

I keep vacillating between trying to make as many moves in the right direction as I possibly can as far as getting myself out there to be seen and met by eligible women – and just saying FUCK IT ALL!!! I don’t know how many people I’ve spoke to who encouraged me to continue putting myself out there online on dating sites (as of writing this, still just on PoF unless there are still old profiles from 5+ years ago out there on other sites I’ve definitely forgotten about) but also acknowledge my intense desire to have something happen very organically. I’m still not sure how many people (if any) really understand why I’m just not that big of a fan of the whole contrived nature of online dating. 

Maybe it goes back to my overall disgust with people who are just not genuine. A shockingly high number of people lie their asses off online…and about the stupidest fucking shit. I mean, what the fuck is the point of lying? To make yourself look good to scrollers? What the hell do you think is going to happen if and when you actually meet someone from off of one of the sites you’re lying on and you can no longer hide behind your phone or keyboard?

People lie about EVERYTHING! From their jobs and salaries to their age, weight and marital status. Even their eye or skin color. YOU CAN’T HIDE THE FACT THAT YOUR SKIN IS A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT TONE! Fake pictures. Photos from a decade ago. A lot of times you can just tell when someone is bullshitting…but sometimes you can’t. Technology has allowed a whole generation of people to become slick little shithead liars – and they’re often applauded for it!

This is a REAL conversation I was a part of at my job not too long ago. Two men were talking about Tinder dates, and I happened to make the mistake of inquiring about how Tinder works for them and if there is a “gay” option. The two launched into a stunning run down about how they swipe right on every chick knowing that 99% of them are lying because all they care about is getting their dicks sucked or an easy, cheap fuck. My response was basically asking them that since they readily acknowledge that the majority of their encounters are based upon lies, how can they trust someone when they say they don’t have any STDs? I was met with blank stares. 

These are not stupid men either. I work in tech support. Virtually everyone I work with actually has degrees or certifications of some sort. They should all definitely understand how casual sex works and that you need to be up front and have that conversation. Apparently they have NO ISSUE taking some random chick’s word that she’s not only clean, but that she’s on the fucking pill. I’m absolutely shocked that there is no problem with any of that in their minds. I mean, I can’t sit here and lie and say that I’ve been “safe” with every woman I’ve slept with myself – college was a blur to be frank – but I’ve always been on top of getting myself screened and checked…and I do have those conversations with prospective partners. As an adult I feel that you have to. If someone that I’m thinking about sleeping with seems uncomfortable with the very question, then it certainly is a big reason to give me pause. I absolutely have suggested and then insisted that we both go get tested together before with someone who was really frightened and apprehensive about the entire prospect of knowing her status…and this was someone who had previously slept with more than one male partner condom free! She had NEVER had the STD conversation with anyone else. Blew my mind!

The fact that so many intelligent people out there are playing Russian roulette with their bodies and health just scares me. I wanted to go buy the biggest box of condoms I could find and dump the contents on their desks!

I don’t know, maybe I’m just really not cut out for the whole hook up culture that’s pervasive in my age group. almost everyone I know who is in their early to mid thirties of any gender and orientation that isn’t married is all about the hook up. I guess I got that out of my system when I was younger? My divorced friends especially! I mean, don’t get me wrong – now that my sex drive is back, I definitely want to fuck – I’m just more into fucking within a definied, monogamous partnership at this point in my life. 

I just need to meet the right woman to literally and figuratively knock my socks off! I also recognize that I also have permission as a single human being to do whatever the fuck I want…but seriously, that’s what porn and masturbation are made for! I’m the kind of woman who can’t enjoy herself sexually with someone (unless they are VERY skilled) without a level of trust that simply can’t be cultivated after 2 dates or half a bottle of tequila!

Now I just need to figure out how to convey that appropriately to women…like, “By the way, even though I may think you’re gorgeous, and I haven’t had sex in a really long time, AND I’m curious to see if we’re sexually compatible, I just don’t have the mental energy to have sex after a date or two at this point in my life. If you’re interested in pursuing a relationship with me anyway, cool. If all you wanted was to try and bed me, well, thanks for the compliment, but I’m just not terribly interested in trying to push my slight insecurities to the side and have a 15 minute long conversation explaining why I can’t really do spontaneous sex just anywhere with a one and done.”

(Apologies to anyone who picked this post as the first post of mine that they have chosen to read. I’m kind of vulgar sometimes, and I’m pushing myself to be more open and frank about things recently.)

This is where I do some of my best thinking and figure some shit out. I don’t ever really plan a blog post – these things just pour out of me. Maybe I should give any potential dates a link to my blog, my IG, and my Facebook? I probably do a much better job of really expressing myself on here than I could ever do on a dating profile. Or maybe I just need personal references to show women?! That shit would be funny actually…

But anyway…I guess I should wake my son’s furry little butt up and make sure he and his sister have enough kibble for the night and get myself a refill on my water. He’s currently twitching in his sleep on my lap…I wish I could know what he’s dreaming about…hopefully it’s something good like catching a bird or a mouse.

Until next time kids…

Posted in Life, Relationships
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I Will Never Pee Alone Again…

•May 25, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Or poop alone. Or with the door closed. First lesson you learn when you adopt cats is that they are assholes when it comes to privacy. My baby boy has always been super needy since the day I adopted him, but my girl…well, she’s a special case. She’s essentially got multiple personalities. When I first adopted her, she was so sickly that she had to be wrapped up in a towel like a burrito three times a day, every day for almost three months. She never wanted to have ANYTHING to do with any human or with her adopted brother because of it. Unless you were in the bathroom. Then she HAD to be perched on the sink or ledge of the tub staring at you as you did your business. Judging you with her yellow eyes and straight in the air eyelashes. 

Don’t even THINK about closing the bathroom door to take a shit or pee or shower in peace and solitude. Both of my kids could be passed out in opposite ends on the apartment, and you can be absolutely stealth, but somehow they will hear you shut the door and then either one or the both of them will be at the door, meowing, crying, and scratching to be let in. 

My son isn’t even satisfied with just sitting on the counter or the toilet while you shower either…he needs to nose his way in between the shower curtain and the liner to watch you. 

My cats are perverted assholes. You’ve been warned. 

Seriously.

Speaking of perversions…Netflix apparently knows something about me that I didn’t realize it did. They have some powerful fucking algorithims when it comes to curating their recommendations. Yesterday morning I loaded up the app on my smart TV and I had a bunch of new ones. One of which was a documentary, “kink”. Now, I have just gotten done having a conversation with a coworker regarding kink and how he had thought that I was already a player on the scene, and when I had told him that I was actually a complete novice, and was woefully unaware of any local scene nor of anyone involved in said scene. 

Anyway, the documentary was produced/facilitated by James Franco, and it was all about the folks who work at and with kink.com. It was very well done. It (of course) had copious amounts of both female and male nudity, but they spent quite a lot of time talking about the scene and how they have conversations with the models befor they shoot anything and how everything is centered around the submissive, and how everyone on set is there to ensure that the submissive is in a safe and pleasurable headspace. They also devoted a significant amount of time showing and discussing how important aftercare is after they shoot something, as well as how they won’t film something that they can tell someone is only doing for money. 

I was in awe. I’ve read a lot about the community and read quite a lot of fiction regarding different aspects of BDSM play and relationships, but to actually see real life people who are into it talk about the experience – albeit knowing that they allow themselves to be filmed in a somewhat pornographic manner (not all scenes feature sexual contact – that is NOT what BDSM is always or in some cases even primarily about) – was really eye opening. Plus, there were two producers from kink.com that were featured and interviewed that I had actually previously seen on the other side of the camera as performers for Pink & White. Made me feel even better knowing that there were familiar queer faces involved and talking about it in such a respectful manner.

I’m still not sure how exactly I will find myself in a position to explore certain things, but the more I read and the more I see things like this documentary, the more I realize I really need to give myself the opportunity to explore at least certain aspects. There has to be a reason why I have gotten so turned on by a hand on the throat and I love when a woman pushes me hard against the wall and takes control. I have to stop pignoring that and just accepting whatever I get when it comes to woman who are interested in me. 

Actually, I need to give myself a hell of a lot more credit in a lot of areas than I have been. I mentioned on Facebook earlier today that I was considering putting myself back on OKCupid to get myself out there more, and people commented very positively. I actually didn’t expect the reactions I got. One person said “U are probably one of the hottest chicks on that shiz” and someone else commented with my name tagged and then “= 1 second on OKC and snatched up. Because she is chock full of awesome”. I’m insanely flattered and blown away by their confidence in me. It’s an amazing feeling knowing that others think so highly of me on a personal level. I’m used to it on a professional level, but it’s a different sort of satisfaction. 

Now I just need to figure out how to really sell myself in an online dating profile, because quite frankly, I fucking SUCK at that part! I sort of just wish I could say to people, “Here’s my blog, here’s my IG, here’s my FB, here’s my Snap. Add me, follow me, read. Get to know me. Chat me up. I’m awkward as fuck sometimes, but I’m smart and a really good, really honest person” but that’s not how online dating (or dating in general) works. I’m expected to pimp my ass out like a used car salesman, and I’m not really comfortable with that.

“Come on down! Today we have a 33 year old lesbian who is a Scorpio and an only child with two adopted cats that she treats like they are her children. She works in tech support, just bought a new car, loves loud music, driving fast, reading, and stuffing her face full of delicious food! She really should exercise, but truth be told, she’s lazy and would really rather burn off calories by having sex with her future partner. She considers herself to be a switch, but most people like to pigeonhole her as being a butchy top since she has short hair and wears men’s clothing, but don’t let that fool you! She’s totally looking for someone to take charge and control of her periodically in the sack. So if you think you have the intestinal fortitude, honest heart, and the intellect – dust off your toolbox and take this lady out for a spin!”

Actually…that’s not half bad…show’s off my weird sense of humor at least!!!

Argh! I don’t even know. I need help with dating. Seriously. I need a mentor or a coach. I suck so bad at this part of life. I’m great with people…just struggle with meeting them. 
As always, I welcome your comments. No, really. Please. Tell me what you’re thinking.

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Fifty Shades of Fucked Up…

•May 3, 2015 • Leave a Comment

So I finally saw the movie. I bought it on Amazon Video. To say the movie was a disappointment is an understatement. From casting to acting to wardrobe…*sigh*

The playroom, glider scene, and soundtrack were the only really redeeming qualities. I found the sex to be quite lackluster, even for hetero sex. Now, don’t get me wrong, I knew there was no way they were going to be able to get away with half the stuff that is in the book, but seriously I’ve seen hotter sex scenes on The Vampire Diaries. 

Dear soccer moms everywhere; you’ve been had! That, or you’re seriously lacking in imagination and sexual adventure. Not sure which is worse actually. 

As someone who has read all of the books, I’m more than a little shocked that they didn’t devote even 2 minutes to her supposed Goddess like skills at fellatio. Yes, this is coming from a big old lesbian. I mean, for real? At least in the books Anastasia is not quite the simpering idiot the movie has made her out to be thus far. In the books Christian is genuinely challenged and taken aback by her. 

As far as the “kinky fuckery” to borrow a term from the book – I give it a D. BORING. I consider myself to have had pretty vanilla sex with my previous partners, and I have to say that I would consider some of my sexcapades way more intense and “kinky” than what was explored in the film. And I bought the unrated version! What the fuck made it unrated? Discussing fisting? Asking about butt plugs? For fuck’s sake! There was barely any pubic hair shots (yes, I realize this is somehow taboo) and there was NO male frontal nudity to speak of. Tell me again why this movie almost got an NC-17/Unrated theatrical release?

Is it so unpalatable to think of women exploring their sensuality by relenquishing “power” to someone else in a sexual manner? I know it may come as a shock to anyone reading this who actually knows me in real life, but believe it or not, for some women – including myself – the thought of totally relenquishing control is utterly, completely tantalizing and erotic. I’ve often longed to meet a woman who could periodically dominate me in all the right ways. Not in a painful way (though I’ve learned that some pain can be extremely fun), but in a way that allows me to be a more authentic version of myself instead of the person that everyone else always envisions me as being. 

Chew on that for a minute. I’ll wait. Savor the feel of it in your mouth. 

People have all kinds of misconceptions. About me. About you. About themselves. About that total stranger sitting across them on the train. About sex. Oh the misconceptions about sex. I know I’ve had more than a few over the years. I know that I still have many things that I would like to explore and learn about. I dearly hope that I will be afforded that opportunity to continue to explore. 

I think that is the great gift of Fifty Shades. The books and now the movies have opened up dialouge that didn’t really exist so openly before. At least not amongst the people I’ve known. I for one, am glad of it. It’s helped me come out of my shell a bit. The past several years I’ve slowly explored things. Bit by bit. I’ve discovered things that I really like. I’ve had my curiousity piqued about far more things. 

I’ve yet to find a partner who has been good for me who I can explore with…but the ones who’ve shown me there is more to my sexuality have been invaluable lessons that I won’t ever forget or take for granted. My moments with those women were brief and fleeting, but eye opening and to be honest, life changing. Every encounter I’ve ever had with a woman, from my first love back in in high school to the random intoxicated make outs at gay bars in my twenties to the attempts at soul-searching sex in relationships, have shaped me. 

I would never feel so emboldened to say that I need a partner who can push me up against a wall and own my mouth with hers, claim my throat with her fingertips and teeth, and then break away back to whatever social event we are at as if nothing happened. I need someone who can test and push my limits and who can appreciate that I am going to do the same thing in return. 

Someone who appreciates that while I wear men’s clothing, and prefer to keep my hair short, and practice common courtesies like holding the door – this does not mean that I am butch or completely dominant. Quite the opposite in fact. I love nothing more than the small gestures like having a door held for me, or flowers brought to my workplace; a bath drawn with candles or a small meal made just for me. I like to be taken care of and pampered just as much as I take care of and pamper the one I love. Somehow that seems to get lost in translation as people size me up and make assumptions about me. 

In reality, I’m the last to know when someone is interested, even though I feel like I should have more confidence in myself. I often feel awkward around women because I don’t quite know how to express that I’m not the butch woman I probably look like. That I want them to stop me mid sentence and kiss my breath away and then fuck me senseless later on! 

But I fear now that I am rambling and being a little self-indulgent in my musings. The perils of being single and awkward I suppose.

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