why wait?

Saw this question on Ok Cupid.   Thought it was interesting.
Does the “I’m waiting for marriage” type turn you on?

Yes

No

I’m going with no.

Why? Because lets be frank, I want to test the ride before I even dare commit to saying “Why yes this is what I’m going to do with the rest of my life” regardless if I’m in an open or poly relationship. For me, sex is an absolute must.

It’s not the only thing that makes the relationship, but its a part of communication which i feel is integral to a relationship that is anything more than platonic.

Because let’s face it. Talk is cheap.

If its that you’re not interested in exploring a sexual relationship, fine.  Be my friend.  But don’t waste my time and think you will be my lover.

While yes, you can argue that there’s much that can be done without the act of penetration that is still quite enjoyable, it is the means to an end that simply begs to be fullfilled.

I’ll be a bitch and say it- women get “blue balls” too. About a month ago I was getting really involved with a gentleman.  He starts going down on me and suddenly had to go.  He was there on a break from work and we didn’t plan on it going that far initially.  It sucked.  I went out for drinks with another friend of mine.  I bitched about it.  It was a tease of the vagina sort.

If I am in a relationship with someone, and get more action out of my sex toy than I do out of my significant, there’s a huge problem.  That person obviously doesn’t find something about my significant.  Hell with some of the jerks I’ve dated, the only thing semi significant is the sex anyway.  To be exclusive with me you’re going to have to put out.  It’s a hardship I know.

So potentials… put out or pass please.  I’m only interested in a lover that wants the whole me- and that includes the sexual chemistry.  I’ll still respect your morals or at least do the best I can (if you are interested in Scientology for example though, I will um.. try not to laugh at you if I even entertain bedding you).

Selfish selfish me I suppose.  I crave to be satisfied.

And now since my roommate is gone, I’m off to have even louder orgasms than I usually allow myself out of courtesy (oh and well being gagged).

*Cheers*

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In the Aftermath of Brutal Honesty

He came back on though.
Said he missed all of it.
That he wanted to be run over again.
So i put it in reverse and let ‘em have it.
He asked for it after all…

Me- are you sure you want me to? I won’t lie. It’s pretty brutal.
Him- yes I am…

[enter vaporizing dosage repeat]

Me- now I look like a bitch xs 2.
him- why?
Me- … I’m too nice.

—-

circa 8.17.7

—-

What’s odd about this particular entry, is that in the midst of trying to think of what to write for a blog today (as there was an overabundance of inspiration), I decided that I would write about it later, and post another bit of prose from my past. This particular piece having been inspired by ****** from the previous entry came to mind near immediately.

****

It was not until I copied it from my notebook that I noticed the date.

One year ago today.

Coincidence?

I don’t believe in coincidence.

I believe that timing is a funny funny thing, especially when it’s about a relationship.

We grow..

we change..

we remain the same.

Brutal

and honest.

Those words echo in my cerebellum.

I remember why I adored him back then.

I remember why I’ve missed him so.

Admirable traits…

from someone whom in many ways is sick and should not be viewed admirable.

Ah what a twisted world we live in.

Reminiscent

Paramount

Permeating seducing pheramones

Once again transcribed into my reality.

I stare at a blank canvas…

hoping that you will enter again

hoping that this time

perhaps you will stay.

And while I know that I don’t need you..  your presence is requested at table 3.

Party of 2

Will you meet me there?

Image is nothing

What did I just say?  Yes and I meant it.  For this instance frankly is something I’m finding pretty disappointing.

As a little girl I had a completely different vision of what this place would be like.  Of all the glitz and glamor that is Hollywood and Los Angeles.  While I have many good things to say about my dear town of residence, I am also shaking my head.

I have not been to all these touristy places.  The Kodak Theatre.  The movie studios.  I know that when I do go, I will enjoy them.  And maybe perhaps then will I feel a little less ripped off than what I do now.

Last month was my first time on the infamous Hollywood Walk of Fame.  What’s funny is that I didn’t even realize it until after my friend Vieve mentioned to look down.  The area was not what I’d pictured.  There was no buildup.  There wasn’t any rush.  It was run down and just sort of there.

I know that I will likely have late night adventures with a camera on the streets of LA.  It is beautiful in its own urban way.  With my fixation on urban shooting, LA is actually a rather good match.

But in a city where “Image is Everything”… it sure doesn’t look like it.

I really want to take some time and help out to restore the area.  I wonder how many other people have had this image killed by coming here.  Is it like this in NYC?  I feel uncultured by having to ask.  It doesn’t look like that in other metro areas I’ve been to and lived in.

I guess what I’m trying to say is…

I love LA.  I hate LA.

I think I understand why Marilyn Monroe killed herself now.  This city of Angels.. of dreams… really isn’t all that it seems from the outside of the goldfish bowl.  I’ve only been here a few weeks and already can see right through.

Dear daddy,

You were right this time.

The direct approach

My posts on twitter can easily be misinterpretted.  This is most certainly not an accident.  In order to fully understand some of them you have to be there.  They may not be what you think they’re about.  But they’re all true.

Now because I know that my tweets are.. not always rated G, and some of the things that I write about even here, I get approached and invited on quite a bit of “scandalous” style adventures.  Do I partake in some?  Well, obviously I’d be lying if I didn’t say… it’s my business 😉

I met a cute guy at Mashup last week.  Very pretty eyes… had never been to one of the events.  I was pretty partied out at this point.  Nothing against anyone, but damn if that was a long week.  And I was a little bit disappointed about the dark horse returning home.

Still, I genuinely was interested in talking to this guy more.  He didn’t give off the usual douchebag vibe, and like I said, he was cute.  So we exchanged numbers. It wasn’t really a big deal, and I wasn’t going to call him.  When he couldn’t spell my name right, even when corrected, I had essentially written it off anyway.

The week that would never die continued.  I was approached by a few sleezeballs later, and in days following.  It’s part of the consequences of having my moniker, and writing about sex in any form.

Plus: there’s always options.

Minus: alot of them think they can just get it with little to no effort.

Thankfully I’m smart enough to know better.

So last night when I got a call about hanging out after 1130 on a Sunday night, it was a no brainer.  It wasn’t going to happen.  Not with a guy I just met at some business party.  That right is reserved for people I am friends with already, have history with.. or want to make some history with.

I know the fixation some people have with one night stands.  Of strings of booty calls and strippers.  I have plenty of friends that do that.  Hell, I don’t think I know anyone that hasn’t had a one night stand.

This isn’t the first time.  It won’t be the last time.

I wasn’t going to play dumb.  I figured that I would give him a few minutes grace before going straight to it.

“We could go to your place or mine… I don’t care.”

“Well I just moved in here and there are boxes everywhere still.”

We talked for about 5 minutes and then I cut to the chase.

“I know what you’re asking.  It’s not exactly prime time for a date, and I don’t do the booty call thing.  It’s Sunday night and I’ve been planning a trip to Portland to see someone… so I’m sure there’s a list of numbers you could be calling right now, and I’d reccomend doing that.”

“Actually, there aren’t..”

“Ah well that’s too bad.  I’m a bit old fashioned in that I don’t give that stuff away.  Many women do though so I’m sure it won’t be hard for you to find.”

Direct approach to a direct approach.  That’s a watered down version.  But he seemed pleasantly surprised by my demeanor, even though he was turned down.

Yes, a woman who is boistorous and confident in her sexuality can actually be classy, real, and honest.  I’m as real as it gets and a horrible liar.  And despite my poly lifestyle I still have standards.

I appreciated the honesty last night.  It says a lot about character.  There are too many douchebags that go about it holding a front its something else.  Let’s call the duck the duck and not play pretend here.  I don’t have time to waste on reindeer games.

Dear self, stfu

My morning started late. My evening ended in morning, and I hit the snooze… or so I’d thought. I either have chronic insomnia or bouts like this one. However, after yesterday, and having gotten more on it than I have in months, I think I was allowed somewhat of a cookie.
It wasn’t incredibly late when I got out of bed, but it felt it at first. I have been consistently pushing myself to get up at normal hours. I want a conventional office job, and need to get off owl schedule.

Yesterday I was out for 12 hrs pounding the pavement like Sarah Lee does cake. I made some real progress though. Next week will hopefully be hectic in some ways. Today I made my twice a week rounds with the staffing agencies I belong to. I sent my resume to a branch of a staffing agency I was registered with previously when I lived in hell. It’s not adaquately networked though, so I have to apply and interview at each branch if they find something for me. It’s kind of lame, but ah well.

Thirty minutes later, I got a phone call about a possible job 30 mins from me. I have an initial assessment interview tommorrow morning. If that goes well, I will be going to an interview at the location. Fingers crossed that it does.

Positives though.. multiple phone calls. I have some leads that I will be talking to over the next few days. Hopefully I will be gainfully employed again within the next week or 2. Seems promising.

Last week, alot of things happened. I won’t be writing about them anywhere within the public realm if at all. It left me like a deer in headlights. People tell you that it’s ok to talk about things when they’re happening… unless you are one of a few select people, I have chosen the option to stfu. I have found that it’s the best advice someone can ever give you really. It sounds harsh. But realistically, no one wants to hear it.

Now I may sound like a bitch here, but telling people your major drama does nothing but create more and make people run from you… it doesn’t matter if it’s self imposed crap or its stuff that happened to you. Keep… your mouth… shut. And if you can’t.. you’re allowed to vent to a handful of close friends that you have a mutual understanding that you can do it to without them going over the deep end on you.

This is what I do, and the main reason I have a special page privied to a select close kin. It gives me an outlet for the people that I can talk to about things of that nature, and everyone is happy. And even in that page, it still has 2 deafcon levels of privacy.

When you can’t get a hold of anyone, or if you want to spare everyone the headache of listening to your vent tangent, there still is hope. If you have aim, I reccommend Smarterchild for those such instances. That, and the responses you get will more than likely cheer you up. Consider it free therapy.

Sure people tell you that bottling up emotion is bad. They also tell you that showing emotion is a wonderful thing, but the second that you show an emotion other than happiness, there is something wrong with you. It’s a dangerous line to tow. Just trust me, you don’t want to go there.

My life is extremely “colorful.” It is a roller coaster of ups and downs. Everyone has them. We’re programmed as humans though to say that we care, but in the back of our heads, we’re selfish.

There’s an invisible line in the sand about what you are allowed to talk about drama wise. You have to be socially savy and know where it is. Here’s a true acceptable scenario:

So.. once upon a time there was a guy who I used to date that had a psycho friend that didn’t like it much. She didn’t like that he spent time with me instead of her when we dated. She was single.

One night she went emotional and psycho on me. I, of course, tried being friends with her initially and she was fine before the friend and I dated. He thought she was being immature but didn’t do much about the situation. We broke up. I couldn’t handle the friend issue. I wanted a no drama relationship… or well.. yeah.

Months later, I moved. The ex contacts me because we have been friends for years. He’s all frustrated because now it’s the exact opposite situation. He’s single. She’s not. She’s blowing him off for the significant other. Oh, and she’s gay now or bisexual.

That’s the kind of drama people don’t mind hearing about.. especially after the fact because it’s funny and scandalous.

I love hearing about this. A lot of people do. There’s magazines devoted to this stuff because of it. I’m used to being a virtual bartender of sorts. I hear tons of stories like this and keep em locked away.

However most of the time with really bad stuff? The cheapest and easiest thing for you from both a career and everyday social standpoint? If you do not want to commit social suicide, learn this lesson really fast and take my advice on this one- just tell yourself to “stfu.” It will save you money as well as tons of additional drama for yourself, your relationships will be that much better, and the person you vent to won’t have to worry about wrinkles over someone else.

Yes, I’m a hypocrite and unique just like everyone else. So are you. Admit the harsh reality of it and let’s all act normal like because we all know it’s true but won’t openly reveal it.

/changes subject

And I have a monkey and his name is Pierre.