It’s just a prick…

The brightly colored large tacks that hold up my French prints have been falling off mysteriously.  I’m not sure as to why exactly.  They’ve been on the walls months.  It’s only been starting recently.

Perhaps gravity is setting in and the weight is pulling on them.

Perhaps it’s something else entirely.

But when another tack and picture fell he instinctively went to fix it.

My room is still in shambles from the Holiday activities.  You didn’t think that just because I’ve been off the radar meant I’d become a nun did you?

It had been a romantic evening.  Dinner and then a moonlit walk on the pier.  It hadn’t been completely perfect, but it was damn near that way.

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.  After everything with Mr Parker.. of saying my goodbyes and throwing pennies to the air on New Years.


Sometimes it’s.. not the greatest experience for my lovers, specifically for him.

We were about to lay in bed.  We looked up.  He noticed the line print fall.  It was the second one to fall this week.  He went to fix it.  I told him not to worry about it.  He was trying to be a gentleman.


He fished around the clothes near the side of the bed looking for the brightly colored tack.  He didn’t find it.

He found something else.


And there was a moment of silence as he picked it up off the floor and looked up at me.

“I always get up afterwards and go to the bathroom.”

I couln’t breathe.  For a moment there, despite my honesty, I was worried that I’d blown it.

“It’s probably from one of our multiple sessions.  I’m sure it’s nothing.  Don’t worry about it.”

He went to the bathroom and threw it away.  The silence was deafening.  I hung my head a little lower.

Please don’t tell me I ruined it.  Please don’t tell me I ruined it. Please don’t tell me..





I did didn’t I?  God damnit.

To be continued…


Last night’s agenda?  Messed up by comic book day.  I have to remember to just not schedule anything on a Wednesday ever again.  It’s been the same routine every Wednesday for a few weeks now.  I will have something planned later in the night, and it will never happen.  So just a memo to everyone out there, consider Wednesdays booked until further notice.

I asked the grip to take my car in for an oil change when I was at work.  He left late and got stuck in traffic.  He met me out by work at a place nearby to do it, but they didn’t have the filter.

So off to home and the comic shop.

He had this grey trenchcoat and a green Multiple Man tshirt on.  I wasn’t sure which toon he reminded me of, but I couldn’t get over the deja vu.

We got back to my place and he pulled out a flash drive. I got caught up with Walking dead and was reading the singles last night.  I feel ripped off.  I’ve only read it in trades so far and if I didn’t have 6 issues to read in a sitting, I would have felt blue balled.. well if I had balls.

He renders me handicapped.  Seriously.  One minute he’s showering me with nerdy gifts, the next hes pulling my hair, throwing me on the bed and slamming me repeatedly.

I finish round 1 and attempt to turn to him.  I can’t move.  My entire body is just stuck there.

“I can’t move my legs.  You’ve rendered me paraplegic.”

He chuckled as he put his hands across my body again.

“I have to go babe.  I’m going to be late for work.”

“Be late.  Call in sick.  Just stay and fuck me repeatedly.  You know you want to.”

“I really have to go to work hun.  You know I can’t.”

He started to get dressed.  He went to the computer to put on an “exit song.”   I looked at him with puppy eyes.

“I’m not satisfied.  I didn’t get mine.”


“No really, I didn’t get mine.” I said with a grin.

“You are a really horrible liar.  I have to go to work.”

“When we get our place, I want it more often.  Not like all these couples do when they move in together and poof there goes their sex life.  Are you sure you’re going to be able to handle that?”

He didn’t want to go.  I know he didn’t want to go.  I grabbed his jacket and put it on.

“This is huge dear.”

“You’re just tiny.”

“What if I showed up at your place just like this?”

“Babe I need to go, hand me the coat.”

I sat on the end of the bed and pulled his belt loops.

“You’re not going anywhere yet…”

Sometimes I always get what I want.


He came back with comics.  Everything that had happened the night before seemed to drop away to nothing.  Tales of zombies, foul language and irreverancy.  Tales that keep me going through the days.

Everything faded to the background.  Nothing else mattered.  But he had to leave again after.  I was bummed, but it was the way of things.

Entrances and exits.

He lights the stage and disappears.  It’s his job.  No wonder he does it so well.

I guess I’m easy to please… in some ways.  All day yesterday I waited patiently. Impatiently.  This weekend’s “plans” turned into a lot of me waiting around for him.  I’d not gone out on

  1. a date with a pornstar with “a little following”
  2. drinks with friends
  3. date 3 at “our bar”

etcetera etcetera


Well, time is a priority.  This weekend will not occur again.  He was warned. Nay, instructed.  He apologized emphatically.

When he finally came by, it was another comic book.. and handcuffs.  Add some hot wax, and well, all was forgiven if only for a moment.

  • A school girl outfit.
  • Pigtails.
  • Hands pinned down

He was to be punished.  Only to watch.  Temptation at its finest.

The next time we go to a sex shop- as we did this weekend-there are more rations to be bought. A checklist of sorts.  My vanity feels a bit empty with what’s in there currently.  The ropes bid company beyond those vials of decadent pleasures.

And something else.  Midst all of this, we talked about home.  How I missed San Diego… let’s just say..


Just one more reason..

There was an email sent to us at work “Take off 9am-11am and get paid if you are going to vote.”

The issues.. Prop 8, Prop 2, Prop K (I wish I lived in San Francisco to vote on it), and of course the Presidential election.

I remember the words of my dad circa the Primaries “I doubt you’re even going to vote.”
The polls show what looks to be a landslide in favor of Obama. The main reason to vote.. So if it’s already a given, why bother?

And then there’s the promotions… Ben & Jerrys, Starbucks, cookies here, a drink at the Edison.
Suddenly the idea sounds a bit better right?

The devils advocate would say: no one would know either way. I mean, it’s against the law for them to ask for that “I voted sticker” in exchange for goods. You could theoretically get the sticker itself from a local drug store or borrow your friends.

One motivating factor trumped them all.. this button passed along on tumblr a week ago..

So as I prep to get ready to walk to the polls.. the naughty notion just dances through my mind. My polling place is at a school down the street. How to dress.. the right skirt.. the glasses.. do I make a phone call or replay the last scene of Choke?

Hmmm… anonymous voting.

We shall see.. we shall see…
Oh and if you’re going to be at the Edison later for the Causecast/LAist party… I shall see you there tnite my friends. To celebrate the changes that are underway for our country.. and gather round with the like minded people who took the time out of their day motivated by the things that really matter and not just the hype and fluff of corporate promotions (which I fully intend to take advantage of too, don’t kid yourself).
Rock the vote everyone.
And now to get ready to go the polls.. apparently my polling place is a madhouse

why wait?

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



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).


I’m loading up on deductions

I’ve got needs, lots of them.  Yes, I need to get railed not only regular but frequent basis.  Everyday… multiple times a day.  Specifically when I’m involved.  Think you’re up for the task?

Enter my newest boy toy… he’s a cute nerdy type whose day job is a grip for Fox.  He works 12+ hours a day with some major shortage of days off during the peak season.  He doesn’t want to share me.  For a poly, this is…

So on days when the boy is working and what not, I do threaten to go off and get it elsewhere. Is it assinine?  Yes, admittedly so.

Before I left for San Francisco for example (before we became official) I told him-

“While I’m up there fucking someone else, I want you to remember… that it’s nothing to do with how I feel about you.  In fact, you should feel better about it because all it really is would be friends/sex.”

“So I should feel lucky that I’m not getting lucky… Check”

It’s no secret that I enjoy my dating and sexual romps.

A friend of mine messaged me last night and asked

“How are you temptress?”

Funny.. he had no clue that’s the latest nickname that people have given me.

I’m safe about my sex and am actually selective on whom I bed.  A friend once summed it up perfectly:

“Poly means quantity, not all.”

Something that a lot of people may not realize:  I am tantric in between lovers.  It’s probably why my sex drive is so high when I’m involved.  I do not even own a sex toy.

The grip tells me that he doesn’t want to hold me back, and that I should be free to do whatever I like.  While I know this is a guilt trip, I also remind him of the poly status.

“Don’t tell me stuff like that unless you mean it.. because I will go get it elsewhere if I don’t get it from you dear..”

“It’s a tax write-off..”

He was supposed to have the day off today.  Instead he’s helping a friend out with Deal or No Deal.   There’s a cute musician down the street from me… working remotely wondering what I’m up to.

He better get off work soon.. it’s been days and I’m rather tempted.

Dear cell provider, ty for hindering my sex life

I am about to call Tmobile to tell them that for some reason the MMS messages I’ve sent over the past week have not gone through.  Very important ones.  Ahem.

My initial reaction was to accuse said person’s cell phone network for the issue.  “Can you hear me now?”  Hear this Verizon… what the fuck is up with my man not getting his deserved nudies?

I recruited a trusted friend to try and help me out… to forward the picture to him if it went through.

Status?  Lost in cyberspace of course.

Recovering from my 3 days up nearly nonstop at Tc50, damn me if I wanted a little naughty time.  He had to work yesterday.  I persuaded him to take a late “nooner” and get over here.  He’s still working now.  Ah the joys of having a Hollywood non 9-5, 9-5 right?

Damned messages not going through.  Though I honestly doubt that it would hinder my bedroom antics… I have readily accessible cock via other means and I haven’t even looked on Craigslist.

I’d just like to take this moment though to rant about my “wonderful” service that’s supposedly the best in California.  Yeah… my ass!  Or actually.. not.  Boo!(

Maybe I really will look at joining the iprom now that I have it sitting there calling my name.  I’m just worried about the minutes.. which heh, if I didn’t have would just hinder my sex life xs 2.

“Cautious”/ Why I hate having a vagina sometimes

Ah the joys of womanhood strike once again. There’s always going to be that one person that you are extremely cautious bringing guys around. She may not have to do anything. She may just exist. She may be flirty and dainty and innocent. She may state numerous times she doesn’t want to date them…

You can be the most confident woman in the planet, but if there’s one bone of competitiveness at all- the normal reaction is to be protective. It’s childish. It’s petty. It’s one disgusting part of the whole having a vagina that I admittedly fall into. With just that woman. And more clearly- only men I’m involved with who I feel actually hold some sort of real value.

Portions of a blog (not fully posted) provide a better explanation here:

I wasn’t happy about the situation with the dark horse, but decided it was best left alone. Maybe in a few days things would calm down. Maybe they wouldn’t. The situation sucked but it was what it was. I made one last attempt at an apology and was coming to grips with the idea of “I fucked up, but I did what I could to repair it.”

And then I got a message this morning.

“We need to talk. IM me when you see me on.”

I was shocked to see him on this early. With eyes squinted half open, I sent a message anyway.

Conversation was cordial, but got right to the point: I slept with x person.

Now when he’d asked me before if I had, we joked around.. I thought that it was pretty apparent that I had and we continued.

However, in truth, I regrettably had. Last year. I’d made a point to get tested, as I have within weeks of every lover, as an added protection to having safe sex. I thought that the answer regardless was no ones business but my own.

But then someone decided to make it otherwise.

To be perfectly clear here, I am not going to write something here to try and make anyone feel sorry for me. This doesn’t make my actions of denial any better.

She knows little about the dark horse other than what I’ve told her. She doesn’t know him personally beyond a name on a screen linked to her from my facebook. However, now they’re virtual friends- which is what him and and I started as, and she ended up talking to him.

I’ve oftentimes pondered why I have so few attractive female friends before and came to the conclusion once again as to why. Miscommunication, jealousy, and otherwise petty bullshit when a man enters the picture weather intentional or otherwise. Both women turn vicious. One, because she feels she’s protecting her interest. The other, because she believes you understand she’s not trying to “steal” said guy.

The conversation with the dark horse did not go well- I felt it was over already. What I said in response felt to me like it was mere time filler. I’d assumed that he’d

a-already believed a stranger over me. & b-already come to his own conclusions- therefore nulling anything I’d said in retort.

Fessing up to what I’d done- when I didn’t believe that I’d intentionally lied to him, didn’t seem like it mattered. I did end up coming clean after I’d cooled down. To make matters on my conscious even worse, he told me that whatever she said had nothing to do with him and I… the point that it did was this detail that could have been potentially dangerous for the both of us. At which, I felt even worse.

I’m perfectly out there when it comes to my sexuality. I’m choosy about my lovers- he was a mistake. You’re allowed one aren’t you? I can safely say I’ve only had one, make that 2 one night stands. I had intended to date one night stand 2, but after it happened decided otherwise. I have safe sex. I get tested on a regular basis.

8:45 AM

I feel like I very likely have lost 2 people who I actually cared about. I saw so much potential with the dark horse. He did things that I’d waited and wondered for months why my Big hadn’t done. I was shocked when he came into the picture like he did. The timing.. everything.. seemed perfect. And although things have not been the most perfect between us, I’d like to think that he came into the picture for a reason.

I keep getting told that there’s a certain way a real man is supposed to treat a woman. A healthy, two sided… wonderful nonabrasive way. My attitude had changed towards the fair race. I had hope that maybe, just maybe, I’d met someone who I was interested in that actually really did want more from me than just the sex. That this boy was different… who wasn’t going to be this all time jerk like.. others have been. I guess they really do exist beyond a fantasy.

I feel horrible knowing that it has very likely fucked up because of my own actions- weather unintentional or otherwise. I’m upset with the thought of losing him as a friend and more. He didn’t deserve any of that. He was the first guy in years that had actually piqued my interest the way I’m told romeos are naturally supposed to.

And despite the miscommunication that seemed to have happened with both of them, I want them to remain in my life (well if he even lets me). I was extremely upset earlier this morning. I contemplated ending the friendship with the girl. I felt like I’d been an asshole to the guy. I was pissed all around both with myself and the situation. As the friend knows, Hiroshima ain’t got nothing on me when I feel you’ve pressed one of my red buttons.

In that regard, I was having what I call a “vagina” moment but I’m over it.

I need to take a step back and think about how someone else would react to how I word things. Sometimes I am very vague, or direct, and don’t think about how someone may not know where to read between the lines. I honestly didn’t mean for this misunderstanding to happen, and hope at some point he could forgive me.

Yet again one of the things I most regret coming to the surface. The reality of a coyote ugly moment is that it never goes away, even after that walk of shame. When you look back it will come back to haunt you.

So be careful.

Be cautious.

But most importantly- don’t do it.

And make sure you and your partner on clear with things before you have a moment like mine. Not just because you care about the other person, but for everyone’s own safety.


I broke a rule

But with good reason.

I felt a little bad last night when we came back to my apartment. It’s still a mess. Now there’s a bit more motivation for me to finally unpack it all.

I forewarned him. He thought I was exaggerating.

There really isn’t a whole lot… as its spread out everywhere and not organized at all. Well that’s the story I’m sticking to at least.

Same guy from a few nights ago. Just enjoying it right now and seeing what happens.

He was late again. Called the house to tell me he’d be here at 930 instead of 9.

“Uh huh. Where are your priorities?”

“You baby!”

I doubted that he’d be here when he said. However when I walked out the front door, sure enough, there he was napping. I was pleasantly surprised.

“Wow, you’re actually here on time like you said you would be…”

“I was here at 929!”

I didn’t know what we were doing yet. He took me to a bar to meet up with a friend of his I’d met briefly before- or so I’d thought (another friend of a friend).

Now I’ll admit, there were quite a few cute guys there.. and not just him. Across the bar I thought I saw someone who I wanted to meet forever ago from online. It was a bit weird, but it wasn’t him. Well I don’t think it was. I couldn’t/didn’t flirt with any of them.

We drank a few rounds and ended up dancing.

“You dance like a stripper.. and that’s not a bad thing…”

His friends non date or whatever she was got fall down drunk. I have a bathroom phobia and we headed back to my place. I ran inside and ran back to kiss him goodnight.

I told my roommate that I date and am out a lot. But last night was the first time I’ve brought someone home.

They know eachother. We ducked into my room. My roommate was in the living room.

Our bedside etiquette is.. ridiculous. The talking and goofing around… we had a great time again.

In the morning my roommate instant messaged me. The inevitable happened. I had to ask if he’d heard anything. I had a guilty conscious.

(11:04:21 AM) supernerdlady: i hate having to ask this
(11:04:29 AM) supernerdlady: and i wont ask u to your face
(11:04:33 AM) supernerdlady: but um
(11:04:51 AM) supernerdlady: we didnt bother u when we were talking did we?
(11:05:56 AM) roomie: why wouldn’t you ask that to my face? Not really – between game music and door its not like I could really hear you chatting anyway. You did laugh a lot though I noticed
(11:06:09 AM) supernerdlady: haha
(11:06:34 AM) supernerdlady: yeah. some stupid shit
(11:06:37 AM) roomie: It’s when you two moved on to other things I decided it was time to retreat to my room.

I stayed in my room a good portion of the day. I shouldn’t be embarrassed but theres a few other factors involved that make me feel bad. Nothing has nor ever will happen with me and this roommate. But I wish he had someone.

What sucks is that I want more. It’s on the back of my mind. But the standard is to wait a few days before calling… though if it’s a booty call that rule is nonexistent. I like him. One day at a time. But damn if the carnal in me isn’t going bonkers. Stupid, wonderful tantric…

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.