53 ~ New OKC Chat-Up

I responded to his OKC message, then OKC IM'd him, and now we've moved onto YIM. This is all in the last few hours.

Note: I was a teensy bit high (hyper, really) before, and now I've had two beers (tipsy, tired from an awesome day, and again, hyper) and I'm already exuberant, so woo-ee!

At first, I was a bit hesitant. Not the best grammar, etc. But not awful, it's the internet afterall, and slowly we hit it off. Now more strongly.

We shall call him Austin, which is also where he lives! Not quite his name, but oh well!

He's really cool, and he likes that I am straightforward, strong, and sexy. (ALLITERATIONWHORE!!!) A guy, earlier, rejected me on those grounds. What the fuck. I already have a pussy, I don't need another one!

I need to stop doing shit when I'm tipsy, etc.

Oh well, I am enjoying myself, and OKC has proven to be pretty cool yet again!

51 ~ Where Is Sex Positivism?

I am currently reading fmylife.com when I'm waiting for whatever it is I'm waiting for. The stories on their amuse me.

But after the first several dozen pages I read, I began to notice a trend: how much pain could be saved if heteronormative wasn't the only option.

And now, even further along, another observation is much stronger: AMERICAN WOMEN ARE COMPLACENT WITH THEIR BOYFRIENDS.

Do we live in the dark ages, where having a man justified whatever abuse and neglect it resulted in? He beats me, cheats on me, insults me, and hates me, but at least I'm not a spinster!

Fuck. This. Shit.

I do not identify with the term "feminist." It is very difficult to label me, so I take what words fit a piece of me, and I run with them. I have hated the term "feminism" since I stopped hating men, circa my fourteenth year of life. Isms are bad in general, because they lend so well into extremism, and such a great concept as women's rights being perverted into anti-male enraged me beyond belief. And still does. But now there's a new term--sex-positive. Groovy!

If only women could see themselves.

Not all women, of course, but a majority that shouldn't be so major. Because in addition to complacency comes ignorance. Females, on a biological level, are attracted to confidence; confidence is more likely to be associated with a man capable of providing for offspring. TRUE confidence is extremely sexy. Girls don't know that ASSHOLE does not equal CONFIDENCE. Usually quite the opposite (not counting cases such as my father, who is an ass, but knows it, and is lovable anyway).

Females of our society suffer for the lack of knowledge of their OPTIONS. They know they have a CHOICE, but not knowing how many choices are available is the same as not being able to choose. Getting stuck with heterosexual, monogamous relationships ONLY, and not knowing that you CAN have something else, is one such rut.

Rose, my best friend, is both of these things, but she knows she has a choice, and she chose this. She also knows that she deserves to be treated with respect, she knows she deserves a man who finds her attractive and cares about what she has to say, and another important quality--CARES IF SHE IS ACHIEVING ORGASM.

To wrap up this rant that is getting nowhere, one entry on fmylife.com pissed me off more than any of the others (though not by much):

Today, me and my girlfriend were watching some show about sex on the discovery channel. The topic of female orgasms came up and she said, "Wow, I wonder what that's like?" We've been dating and sexually active for three years. FML

That, to me, epitomizes what is wrong in American female culture. FUCK THAT SHIT. I AM HAVING ALL FUTURE PROSPECTS FILL OUT A SURVEY ON THE FIRST DATE. First question:


Are you interested in giving me orgasms? Yes/no. If no, go fuck yourself.

50 ~ Silver Lining

I am CONSTANTLY exhausted in some way. Physically, emotionally, mentally. Always spiritually. I have three weeks till I am done with this semester, but until then, there is no escaping the hell of routine.

However, this is not all bad news. I have absolutely no time or energy to pine for my three favorite things:

1) Unrequited love.

2) Long distance girlfriend.

3) Lack of boyfriend and/or sex.

I love ya, Kaleb; I miss ya, Sam; I want ya, William. But...even now, as I sit here actively thinking of these things I lack, I got nothing. Okay, a vague sense of twisting in my stomach, but that could also be excitement, or mild fear. Like holy shit I have a test tomorrow.

It's oddly peaceful, but not to last. Not when I visit everybody this summer. But until then...my innards are quiet.

49 ~ Baby Poly

I realized the other day that I was almost poly once--three years before I knew what the word meant.

One of my guy friends in high school, Ray, was pretty cute, and I was kinda crushing on him. He'd been crushing on me, too. In groups of friends like mine was back then--small, antisocial, and able to put up with bitches like me--everybody tends to crush on everyone else. We were both bisexual, and both more like the opposite gender; I wasn't a tomboy (I wasn't sporty), but I was laid-back, uninterested in looking pretty everyday, and generally masculine. He was the opposite. We were both pretty emo.

One day, we're talking on MSN, and we say we want to date each other. One problem--he has a girlfriend. He asked if she said yes if we could date. I said sure.

Well, she ended up saying no, but it almost happened. Now, it would be just that more likely to start, AND not burst into flames.

That is, if I ever get a date down here :)

48 ~ Naked Hygiene

Here is the era of hairlessness--in both women and men. Where words such as "manscaping" are not only vernacular, but implied and referred to as a societal norm and preference. Where porn stars are airbrushed, hairless, and mostly synthetic.

I highly disagree with this.

I was raised by a REAL man and a woman who LOVES it that way. Hair is natural; cellulite is prevalent. I've seen some older porn, and it's like another world--women with HAIR, and CELLULITE, and they are considered SEXY. Whoa. It's almost surreal.

In men, I like hair. It's masculine, which is why I am attracted to men; I'm bi, so if I wanted a woman, I'd fuck one (and have). In women, I also like hair; it's soft, and fun to play with. Not all shaved pussies look childlike, but it IS the first thing that comes to mind.

I have pubic hair. I do not shave. For one thing, it gets itchy and painful when I shave ANYWHERE, so down there...no thanks. (And my friends love giving me every TMI tidbit imaginable, and the horror stories strike fear into my soul.) I don't even shave my legs because it's "right"--I do it when I feel like it, because I like the way it feels. It makes me feel sexy, all that smooth skin...just not for my vagina. (I do, however, trim...when I remember to. I let my hairy hygiene slip a lot, because I don't have anyone to have sex with, so it doesn't affect me in practical terms.)

I will probably have cellulite for the rest of my life. Even while losing weight, even with exercise, unless I go crazy with it or get plastic surgery, it will be there. AND IT IS NOT AN IMPERFECTION. It is proof that I have meat on these bones, and I rather like the feel of them. And stretch marks. I am all about scars; texture is yummy. Can you tell I'm tactile ;)

Naked hygiene has gone somewhere in my generation that I do not agree with, and that I will never agree with. I eagerly await the next changeover when pin-up models return as the societal definition of beauty. Until then, I shall be myself, and I shall be proud! Don't like it? Don't fuck me!

47 ~ Bones

I am a fan of the TV show, BONES, but not an episode goes by that something in it does not tick me off.

Granted, most things tick me off, and on a regular basis, but BONES never fails to not only include, but to EMPHASIZE things that make me angry. Case and point, an episode I watched today.

I was surprised at the turnabout today, because it is usually Temperance Brennan that rubs me the wrong way, but this time it was Seely Booth. Which is saying something, because he is extremely sexy. He is also Catholic, and annoyingly vanilla, mainstream, and narrow-minded. This episode, however, was far worse than usual.

The background of the mystery was "pony play" (I believe that is the term they used), a fetish where people dress up as, you guessed it, ponies and had riders, the whole shebang. Not a fetish that interests me, but I'm cool with it; it isn't surprising that it exists, and it doesn't weird me out like some kinks do. (I am cool with most kinks I have heard of, but dealing with extremely dangerous components is a huge turn-off.)

In any case, Booth was a total dick throughout the entire episode, calling them freaks, treating them like there was something wrong with them, degrading kink in general. At the end of the episode he even had a little speech, saying that sex with kink is lesser because it's making love that is truly amazing, yada yada ya.

A few disclaimers: I believe that sex with a special connection is better. I believe that casual sex is not in the same league as sex in a deep relationship. And I do not believe that kink is a substitute for emotional depth.

That's just is! It should be an ADDITION. But the woman of the deceased was even dumping her husband for having this kink. Granted, he was also having an affair, and I don't think that is acceptable, but I didn't exactly blame him. Her first reaction when she saw the kink? "He's a pervert."

That is a typical reaction, so the character didn't anger me, the general opinion did. Seely exemplified this. And I was in a rage over it. Close-mindedness prevailed in that episode.

Brennan, however, was totally awesome, talking about the perfectly normal, perfectly healthy presence of fetishism in human sexuality. Unlike the rest of the opinions involved.

Once again it is proven that I can NEVER work with hardcore scientists, Christians, or vanilla people. I'd either scare them, convert them, or kill them. Or they'd kill me. Fun!

46 ~ I Take After My Mother

Jonah and I are very good friends. He is the first friend I made here in Texas, and he is pretty awesome. My mother and my grandmother think he's adorable, and were constantly teasing me about him, assuming we are dating because I hang out with him a lot. I keep reinforcing that this is not the case (without going into details about how much we've discussed this) and they have finally taken the hint.

Because yesterday, I showed my girly side :)

The last time I hung out with him, all day, at his dorm, he gave me a bunch of statuettes. One of a wolf, one of an eagle, and one of a horse. His sister made them, and he sells them so he is less poor. Well, he gave me three, as well as an eagle necklace (to go along with the wolf necklace he gave me the first time we met), and I tried to pay him a bit--I had five bucks on me--but then he bought me more food. I told my parents this, and my mom was thrilled.

I reinforced it with: "We're not in a relationship, and never will be. Whether he's trying to woo me or not, I have been perfectly clear on this matter, and he likes giving me stuff anyway. I'm totally cool with that!"

Apparently, I take after my mother, only I'm not cruel :)

45 ~ Hook Up

I keep thinking "my family couldn't get any cooler," and they keep proving me wrong :)

My grandma has been trying to hook me up with someone for a while now. She's always talking about young, cute guys who work with her, or who are sons, grandsons of her coworkers. It is not panned out, for several reasons.

Now my dad is doing the same thing!

Apparently, a twenty-year-old is doing some clinicals at my dad's work. He caught my dad's attention by complaining about the religious nuts at Baylor, where he attends college. He reminds my dad of Sandusky from Tropical Thunder, and he's quirky and weird, which we approve of in this family.

So...maybe.

My dad said something about inviting him to dinner. Here's hoping!

44 ~ If Only I Had A Boyfriend...

I could spend the night away from my family.

I could take out my frustrations.

I could cry on a shoulder.

43 ~ WANTED: Whipping Boy

BDSM has interested me ever since I realized I enjoyed pain, and blood, and bondage. But my interests have always been softcore: biting, licking, tied wrists.

Until now.

I am not especially interested in whipping a guy (girls don't enter into my BDSM fantasies), but the aftermath makes me drool in all the right places. Swollen, bloody flesh makes my mouth water, and both tending to the wounds and playing with them...well, that interests me a great deal.

I am a dominant personality, so girls don't interest me here (submissive women are the opposite of my type, but an emotional relationship with a butch girl is more than enough for me), and I am a feminine person, by MY standards, so seeing a larger, broader person being at my mercy...heeheehee.

I need to get into the dating scene, because I am rearing to go :D

42 ~ I Am A Poly Dictionary

I have been used as a dictionary and thesaurus as long as I can remember. I am a voracious reader, and I have a gift for remembering not only all the new words I read, but how to spell them, what they mean, and what other words are similar to them, and the nuances of their differences.

Last semester in psychology, my class was mostly ignorant to the fact that bisexuality existed, much less pansexuality, what transgenderism really means, and so forth. So I researched the hell out of everything I could--learning a lot of new information in the process, and solidifying what I already knew--and presented this new information to the class. Alone. Of my own free will. For no reason other than to educate a small slice of the population of Texas.

I am certainly not an expert on polyamory or any subculture, for that matter, but I have been exposed to them a lot more than almost all of my peers, even my liberal friends up North. Partly because I am an odd swan even among other ugly ducklings, but mostly because I thirst for knowledge like I thirst for words.

My best friend, Rose, was in a class discussion on sex, and monogamy came up (as it often does). She immediately thought, Ooh, I should bring up poly and stuff! But there wasn't much time left in class, and she couldn't remember all the info I'd thrown her way, regardless. So she plans on bringing it up next class, or on the student disccusion boards.

I am, needless to say, thrilled. I asked her what she remembered, refreshed her memory, kept away from the minutiae (mostly), and dictated that she accredit this knowledge to me when she educated her peers.

I am always willing to learn. I learn every day, and life is so exciting for it. Now if only I'd get a boyfriend, already...

41 ~ ARGH

College life has been KILLING me lately. I don't WANT to not blog like I plan, but OMG I am worn out.

Tomorrow I should be alive enough to post. Not THINK, but since when are blogs based in thought? ;)

40 ~ Literary Sex

I am a writer, I have written a novel, I am editing that novel, and I am also writing its sequel. Writing is amazing, but there is one aspect of writing I need a lot of work on, more than the rest:

Writing sex scenes.

I am a virgin. I have done some stuff, but not often, and not in ages. I've read sex, which is obviously not at all the same, and I have written sex, mostly gay sex which I can never have anyway.

But I'm not trying to practice fucking. Writing about fucking is totally different. For one thing, reading and writing it pales in comparison to the real thing. Which actually makes it much harder.

You have to convey all of this wonderful thing with words. Not even images, but words. Black on white, and that's it.

I fucking love reading sex scenes. It's better than porn, because my imagination is a beast. My favorites are Laurell K. Hamilton and Sherrilyn Kenyon. I haven't read any other authors that I can think of, and I haven't read all of either of their novels. Trying to work on that. So I need to study their works, oh noes! Worst homework assignment ever! ;)

I also need to have sex, lest I go insane. I'm working on it, but I barely have any FRIENDS right now, much less potential fuck buddies, or boyfriends. Sigh. It would also be good for, um, research purposes.

This is why I want to work as a writer for a living. Y'know, other than the fact that without it I am a MESS. Yeah, minor reasons, really :)

39 ~ My Dad Is An Ass

I love my dad very much, and he is a wonderful, loving, esoteric, intelligent, hilarious man, but sometimes, he is also the biggest ass I know.

Usually when my father gets like that--he has Asperger's Syndrome, a mild form of autism, so I forgive him much more than I do most others (and I'm pretty damn forgiving)-- I walk away, maybe a bit huffy, and cool down. Or, even better, I ignore his comment, laugh it off, roll my eyes, and move on. I did that with his latest asshole moment.

It goes like this: We are all talking about my future husband. My grandma pushes for Kaleb. I say, "What if I marry a woman?" My dad says, "That's a dumb idea, why not just cut out the middle man?" [I am paraphrasing, this was nearly a week ago.]

My father is not anti-gay or anything like that, he really couldn't care less, but he is still a bit of a bastard. It is true, I am VERY unlikely to marry a woman. I am VERY unlikely to get married. I am VERY unlikely to pick just one person. But still. Sometimes, that Asperger's is all that saves him from my wrath.

38 ~ Meant To Be Together

My grandmother is still insistent that Kaleb and I will end up married.

She is always dropping hints, or flat-out stating when he enters the conversation, that he was born to be my husband.

It doesn't hurt to here these things anymore. It makes me smile, I pretend to be grossed out, my heart warms a little, and I move on with my day.

Am I to that point of not being in love love with him? Have I merely excepted that if or if not, there is no point in worrying about when? Or is it simpler--is it that I have other things to think about, and I have returned to being passive about my love life, and sex in and of itself does not dominate my thoughts?

Maybe, just maybe, I think she's right, and I'm biding my time, patient that everything will work out perfectly in the end.

At the very least, I am patient, and I am confident, and I am most definitely HAPPY :)

37 ~ I ♥ MY VAGINA

One of my best friends (GASP, I haven't mentioned her before! Let's call her...Ryden) and I were just discussing a webcomic that Jonah shared with me and I shared with her--Khaos Komic--which lead to her proclaiming:

"I wanna get a shirt that says I ♥ MY VAGINA."

So, of course, now I want one too, because it is so true. As much as I joke about being a boy in a girl's body, and as much as guys make more sense to me, I am all-girl. Only society skews that perception because of some of my personality traits, and fuck that. I love my boobs and my vagina and being a girl; that doesn't mean I have to be girlie.

Vaginas are really nifty. First of all, they are totally pretty. (Valley girl, get out of my head!) They are also very easy to live with, all the bits are inside and much less likely to cause massive amounts of pain. Beyond the practicality, I love the way they smell, and feel, and as much as I sometimes complain about how difficult some things can be (orgasm, for example), the sensations are among my favorite things. Maybe it would be different if I had been born a man, I don't know; the fact is I wasn't (in this lifetime), and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Then there is the fact that, because I am a girl, because I was born a girl and have a vagina, I am the one who will be impregnated, I am the one who will nurture a life, I am the one who will give birth to a baby--or many babies--when I am ready to be a mother.

(I am not romanticizing motherhood. It is awesome, and massively hard work. The pregnancy itself can be very difficult, and labor--yikes! That doesn't change the beauty and the majesty of it. If it did, we would have died out long ago.)

Let's see, why else do I want a t-shirt that proclaims "I ♥ MY VAGINA"? That's a hard question. The real question is, why wouldn't I? The billions of people who love women can't be wrong, now can they ;)

If all my other reasons fail, it would be just about the best conversation piece ever. And all the boys in the room would have to reply, "Why, I love your vagina, too ;)"

Except then creepy old guys would pant after me even more than usual...I guess I'd have to save such a t-shirt for visits with Ryden and the comforts of my home :)

Yes, I broke my unspoken two-words-per-title blog rule. I figured it was time because I am lazy, and my subjects were straying towards contrived. Just felt like pointing it out :)

Vaginas make me excessively :D'ey

36 ~ Beautiful Women

All women are beautiful.

As a bisexual, and a woman, having been raised by a very heterosexual father, having a very high self-esteem, when I say this, I very much mean it.

There is something very poetic about a woman. Women don't have to be perfect to be absolutely lovely. In fact, women are preferable when not perfect. My Sam, for example, is very skinny, very boney, tall, very pale, and now very muscular. Her facial features are not classically beautiful, and she abounds with imperfections. I love them, they make her unique, they make her beautiful.

Every REAL man I have ever spoken to--I have grown up with many--is not judgemental of women. Their flaws are easily forgiven, and appreciated. All those little things that women get hung up on--cellulite, laugh lines, muffin tops, stretch marks--barely register in a man's mind. I only really notice them in myself, or in an appreciative manner.

Cellulite shows that the woman is realistic. Muffin tops show that you know how to eat. Stretch marks mean you used to be smaller or bigger, and you're beautiful now. I particularly adore stretch marks because they remind me of one of my favorite animals, the tiger. Muffin tops, too, as they are soft. Cellulite also tickles my fingertips. And laugh lines, of course, may signify age, and lively expression, and that time and wisdom and life lived in quite beautiful.

Sorry, guys, but my standards for women are less particular. When it comes to having sex with a woman, if I was going to start again (which I probably would because gawd I've been celibate for a while), I am not too picky. I see beauty in almost every woman I meet. Women are nonthreatening, and fascinating. With men, there is that cautious factor that I can't get over quickly enough to do a one-night stand, I can't be alone with a man soon after meeting him.

I am writing again, and women are on my mind; strong, beautiful women. The only kind in my life--ain't I a lucky bitch ;)

35 ~ Blogger's Block

I don't know what to write.

My romantic life has not changed one iota since April.

I have not been consistent here.

I am not garnering online chats.

Things are at a standstill.

I'm on break, and it's fabulous. I am rejuvenated, and I still have more than a week of freedom ahead. I'll get back to my blabby self before I go back to school :)

34 ~ Girl Code

Last I checked, guys had a sort of "guy code" when it came to dating. Basically, you don't fuck another guy's girl or ex-girl or sister, if you are his friend (without asking first). The decent ones, anyway.

Girls are much less civilized.

My closest girl friends either don't date, are awesome, or would never date another friend's ex. When Rose was dating her ex, I developed a crush on him. I felt terrible about it. She was awesome, basically saying, "I tell you EVERYTHING, of course you're attracted to him too ;)"

But I would NEVER have pursued him, even if I lived near her, not even when they broke up. It's called not being a horrible friend.

Well, apparently, I am the minority.

Cat dated my ex, K. I gave her the A-OK--afterall, we were never serious about each other, and she didn't know he was my ex when she met him. But she also told me if I hadn't approved, she would have done it anyway.

Now she is dating our friend Bunny's ex, Casey. Who she still has feelings for. And she found out this guy only dated our friend to get close to her. And she "yelled at him."

Um, what the fuck?

First of all, she is a shitty friend. Second of all, she is a heinous bitch. Third of all, she is a skank. (The last statement is unadulterated fact--only topped by how much skankier he is. Ewww!)

Is it just me, or can girls suck so much worse? Guys may be violent, but girls are emotional terrorists.

I fuckin' hate women sometimes.

33 ~ Thinking With...

Men usually think with their dicks. Women usually think with their hearts.

I think with both, but I act with my brain.

It's why I didn't fuck K without a condom, and why I didn't fuck in high school, and am still a virgin. It's why I didn't try to get Quinn back when she admitted she still loved me and things with her fiance (Kitty) were rocky. It's why I didn't jump on Quinn when Kitty dumped her. It's why I haven't met up with many guys from online just yet. It's why I have had my heart broken and my cunt denied for much longer than I would prefer.

Because my brain has ultimate veto power, and uses it well. Maybe not in fun or romantic ways, but in good ones nonetheless.

It's like Brain is in an Open relationship with both Heart and Cunt. Heart and Cunt want to run in all sorts of different directions--but Brain says "nope," and they listen. Sometimes they struggle, sometimes they have problems, sometimes communication is rocky, but in the end, it is for the best.

It also sucks, but hopefully for not too much longer.

32 ~ Sodom/Gomorrah

The Biblical tales of immorality leading to destruction are numerous. The most obvious one, at least to me, is the Romans, because they are the only culture that recorded their history from the beginning to the end, so we can clearly see and study how they declined.

I agree that they were immoral. The gladiators, the vomitoriums, all of that behavior that led to them weakening from the inside out were indeed what caused their downfall.

However, sex is not immoral. So when people say that our culture is crumbling because of sexuality, I can't help but laugh.

Irresponsibility is immoral. Excess is immoral. Cruelty is immoral. And while these things can be seen through the filter of sexuality, sexuality is NOT inherently immoral.

I simply do not understand the people who say it is.

Sex is beautiful. Sex creates life, for one thing, and it can result in pleasure, and connection, and communication. These things are very moral. Whethere it's polyamorous or homosexual or BDSM doesn't matter.

Saying all sex is immoral is like saying all sex is rape--it simply isn't true, and no sane persion thinks it is.

My lifestyle is not threatened by the Bible, because I don't just look at Christianity's viewpoint. There was a world before Christ, and there will be one after Christ. Yes, our society is threatened. Yes, we need major reform. But that has as much to do with sex as we do--it is only part of the whole.

It outright ENRAGES me when I hear it implied, or speak to someone who insists that these things--homosexuality, transgenderism, feminism, equality, freedom, gay marriage--are wrong, so wrong that they should be punished, and that those who practice them deserve the horrors that can befall them.

I do not care if you disagree with me on these topics, I do not care if you think I am going to hell, I DO NOT CARE IF YOU HATE ME, but when that hate begins to impact my life...when that judgement hurts innocent people...when that intolerance causes pain to the ones I love, I stop being so accepting of your faults. NO ONE deserves to hurt others for their beliefs, NO ONE, not me, not the government, not anybody. God is the only one who can judge others.

Have you forgotten your religion's core tenants so easily, or do they only exist when they are impact you, not when you want to do the opposite?

Fuck them all. And NOT in the good way.

Note: Inspired by reading comments on some entry of Sexie Sadie's.

31 ~ Comfortable Silence

There are a lot of differences between guys and gals. Some are biological, some are cultural. None of them are rules, though some cross over more often than others.

I find gender stereotypes fun, because they give me insight into how different I am than other females raised in the same society. One of my favorite stories in this thread happened when I was about 15. My friend, Chris, lived with me and my family for about a month, because he'd been kicked out of his house for being gay. Rather, his stepfather beat him, and when I brought him home, both my father and Kaleb were home; Dad is a sucker for people in need of saving, and Kaleb is just as protective and violent as he. When they heard this story--mind you, I was only bringing him over for the night so he could have a place to stay! I was NOT trying to manipulate my family into adopting Chris!--my dad gave me a suspicious look. "You knew I wouldn't be able to say no." Which of course he didn't; Kaleb and he offered to do some violence in his honor.

Anyway, Chris lived with us for about a month, in my room. Which was okay because he was gay. He adored my family--who doesn't?--and we joked that I was like his brother and he was like my sister. One day we all went out, and I was ready to go in about five seconds. Some deodorant, some shoes, and my mom made me change my shirt. Chris took about an hour longer. He also kept much nicer products in our bathroom. My mom made a joke about Chris being the daughter they never had.

I am NOT very feminine a lot of the time. When I am, it's more aggressive. Sexy clothing, having the freedom to behave "badly" because I have tits, etc. Or squealing over cute things.

I also understand guys a lot better than most girls, because I am so much like one. Yet I'm not butch. I understand girls, too, I'm a big psychology buff and I'm empathic, so people are easy. My guy friends would come to me for insight on girls' minds, and vice versa.

Anyway, my main point is that one of the differences between guys and girls, on the whole, is their enjoyment of silence. Girls don't enjoy silence as much, or they don't allow it to happen, anyway. They are almost always talking. I'm the same way! When I'm around my gal pals, I'm a huge chatterbox. I get estrogen-high just like anybody else. But I swing both ways ;) I love just sitting in the car with my dad and chillin', talking occasionally, but mostly just relaxing. It's a very wonderful feeling.

Any female who doesn't understand what I'm saying, try it sometime. When you care about someone and are comfortable with them, silence is golden. Not just a relief or a reprieve, but an active form of recreation. Maybe it's because I'm a writer, or maybe I haven't talked to any girly-girls on this subject, but that's my two cents on the subject.

More on gender roles, endlessly, to come later; of this I have no doubt :)

30 ~ My Type

I seem to be unique amongst my female peers in that I know that I do not know what I want.

Seriously.

I think I came to this realization during my first real relationship. I loved Quinn, and I still do (though no longer more than I should), but OH MY GOD, SHE PISSED THE HELL OUT OF ME. She was everything that I'm attracted to--sarcastic, confident, Alpha, very masculine (though she's female), and sexy as hell.

Which meant she was also hurtful, arrogant, pushy, aloof, and cocky.

Kaleb is the same way. They both don't know when to quit teasing me, or how to back off, or when to shut up, or when to speak up, or how to admit when they're wrong.

It is not all their fault, not by a long shot. I tell them to stop, but where's the line between giggling girl and angry female? I want to stop talking, but when do I really need to take a step back? I ask them to open up, but what's the difference between heart-to-heart and casual conversation? I point out when they're in the wrong, but when am I right?

I. HAVE. NO. FUCKING. CLUE.

So why should they?

What I want is an Alpha male, which so easily turns into the jerk boyfriend. What I think I need is William (my dream guy; I wrote about him in an earlier post), but he's so improbably I might as well marry a mannequin. What do I actually need? I can't honestly say that I know.

My type is NOT what I think it is, say it is, or want it to be. This is true of most women. We have no fucking clue, but we expect YOU to be that ideal. Which is bullshit.

Nice guys are unappealing. Bad boys only seem like a good idea at the time. Alphas are difficult to handle. Pussies are superfluous--I already have one, thanks.

Sam is an amazing girl, and she's a mixture of what I am attracted to and what I want to be my type, but we haven't had the chance to really have a relationship. Our first two years was marred by our personal demons; our last year together was tumultuous and exciting and invigorating and maddening. We have changed so much, I have no idea what's in store for us or what we would have together.

The moral of this story is: I don't have a goddamn clue. About ANYTHING. And I'm woman enough to admit it.

And I'm no closer to answers or solutions than I was when I thought I knew something :/

29 ~ It's Weird

Yes, I totally failed to blog about the new guy I met, but almost immediately after I went to post about him, a bunch of drama happened.

Even now when I think about it, I feel all...blah inside.

But I have an exam tomorrow and I'd rather be doing ANYTHING but study, so here I am :)

Okay...so Jonah hasn't been mentioned here in a while, because I tend to look at my life and go "nothing is happening on the boyfriend front, so fuck this." Well, Jonah is NOT something happening on the boyfriend front, but he's related. Ish.

We met on OkC, which is where I am in order to try for a boyfriend. He is the means by which I met my new sorta-crush. We have been hanging out a lot and talking a lot and we're pretty good friends. He's my only outside-of-school Texas friend at the moment.

He is also sooo not my type.

It's not so much the physical stuff--he's not downright ugly, nor is he that fat (he's skinnier than my new crush, in fact)--but that we aren't compatible as a couple, he could never do polyamory, he has emotional problems (the moment he starts to get too clingy, I'm out), and he's a bit unstable. Like, I doubt he would ever be at all dangerous, but he's cocky and often insists that we will have sex at one point.

More than that, he talks in hypotheticals that assumes I will ever want to do anything sexual with him.

There are many reasons why this is not the case. One, he doesn't enjoy penetrative sex that much, and that is a huge turn-off for me. Two, he's a little too focused on kink, and I'm not comfortable with all that as necessary for fun. Three, I'm not attracted to him, AT ALL. Four, I don't feel comfortable around him. Not like I'm in danger, but like I don't want to touch him. Five, I've already fought against the idea so adamantly, I refuse to ever back down. No matter how much vodka is involved.

The night of the social outing, he bought me cigarettes and food and we hung out till way late, then his friend (the one I'm crushing on) drove me home, with him in the car of course. Said friend would not be available next week, so I asked if I could spend the night after the social stuff with Jonah. Well, apparently this made him uncomfortable, which he coulda mentioned at the time.

Then, later, as we discussed it, he KEPT GOING ON ABOUT WHAT IFS. Sex stuff, promises, etc. Like, if anything is to happen, I'll make sure it was decided before, and it would only be foreplay.

At first I was just "haha, not gonna happen," but then he kept going on about it. Then I got annoyed. Like, really annoyed.

I have many traits similar to that of a teenage boy, and I have been craving sex forEVER, but I am NOT a teenage boy (if I was, I'd already have gotten laid) so when I say "there is no reason to talk about this, it is a what if comparable to me converting to Christianity" I really fucking mean it.

But he was persistent, and then I got mad, and then I stopped feeling so comfortable with the idea of spending the night at his place. And if I can't go out regularly, I don't want to go out at all--I'm very extreme this way.

OH, and THEN I got to thinking about the night. We'd been slightly touchy-feely--me leaning on him, using him as a footstool, no big deal. But he kept staring at me, and touching my legs softly, and not backing down, and it made me feel weird. So I said no more of that EVER.

Also, AHHHH. Boys suck. And, um, what was the last thing? Oh yeah. His meds wore out during this conversation and I had a depressive episode (I have NOT been diagnosed with anything, there is NOT anything to diagnose) and BLAAAH.

This is waaay long, so it counts as the weekend's entries :P

28 ~ New Crush

I met a new guy today, and surprisingly enough, I actually really like him.

As in, I am also attracted to him.

But I got home from the outing way late, so I'll have to continue this post tomorrow...AKA after midnight...

;)

27.5 ~ Kaleb Addendum

Yesterday's post really got to me as I was writing it, so I wasn't thinking clearly enough to finish the list.

7) Our lives are rooted in completely different places, and headed in completely different directions. I'm in Texas. He's in West Virginia. He has a life based completely on things not-me. I want to travel. He has obligations, family...everything. It's not perfect, but it's not me.

8) We are five years apart. This wouldn't be such a big deal, except he feels like it is, especially since he only goes for older women. I'm his "baby sister," emphasis on the baby, and he'd never let that change.

8.5) He's known me since I was 6, and even if he tried, I doubt he could banish thoughts of me as a child from his mind. Every mention of me growing up makes him revert to brotherly fear and rage, and sex just wouldn't work like that.

9) I will never confess my feelings for him, to him. I can barely stand the thought of telling my parents about my religion or my romantic life and polyamorous plans! They still don't know that, or this, and I'm not anywhere near ready to change that.

10) I'm afraid of what it would do to the us we have now. Would he never be able to look at me again if I told him? If we could actually try, and it failed, what then? I would rather be melancholy for the rest of my life, have sex dreams with him, replaced my partner with thoughts of him, than risk it.

11) I'm afraid he wouldn't like me as a girlfriend. I'm not always mature, and he pisses me off, and I like pissing him off, and I don't know what interests we share, if any, and, and, and...

But, but, but...

And yesterday's 6 was utter bullshit, so revised...

6) I'm not a decent match for him. Perfect doesn't exist, but I doubt we'd mesh well. I can barely tolerate him most of the time, even though I love him. So why do I love him? I don't know. On one hand, I am head-over-heels attracted to his Alpha nature. On the other, it clashes with my own Alpha nature. And, honestly, his sarcasm and wit borders on cruel, or at least it feels that way to me. Most of what he says to me jokingly hurts. I don't know why. Maybe it's because I love him and I wish he would see me that way, too, but it hurts to talk to him, to think about him. Every time I feel like I'm over it, it comes back tenfold.

Why am I in love with Kaleb? Beats me...in every way possible.

Can I be over him now? Please?

If only...

TOMORROW WILL BE OFF THE SELF-PITY WAGON...IF IT HAPPENS AT ALL...I SWEAR!!!

27 ~ Why Kaleb?

I have been asking myself this question recently.

Why in the motherfucking cocktease shit-for-brains HELL am I in love with Kaleb?

My language is so edified, eh?

This is a serious concern, however, and one I am stupefied that I haven't been thinking about it before. I'd always focused on why a relationship with him is impossible--the reasons are endless--but I never did any self-reflection on the matter.

Until now.

So, without further ado...

1) I don't know him well enough. We never really talk, especially now that we live so far apart. Even when he was in VA and I was in MD, he wasn't around much; he has his own life. Every moment I spent with him was a treasure I refused to admit. When he'd chat with my parents and I'd "inconspicuously" curl up on his lap...he was so warm, and he smelled so good...I never fell asleep though, afraid to lose even a single moment with him...and the driving lessons! Oh, I wish I had had more of those with him...

2) We don't have much in common. Not that I really know, because we never talk, but we're so different, and from such different lives...

3) He sees me as a little sister. I've known that he's supposed to be my big brother, but I haven't actually thought of him that way in a very long time. But he has. I've just been saying the words, but he means them. He threatens violence upon my future boyfriends. He wants to know the second that I hit the next big milestone--losing my virginity--so he can freak out at me. It's so fun to tease him, but at the same time, the thought seriously worries me. I want to be his little sister, because I want him to never let go...I want us to be special, even if not in THAT way...wow this has strayed from the point...

4) His type is older, taller, and skinnier than I am. I have seen his fiances and love affairs come and go. He was a horn dog in college while I was still in middle school, and some of his exes are as old as my PARENTS. They were all more sophisticated, more level with him, and more graceful in appearance.

5) He must never know that I love him this way. It would ruin everything.

6) I'm not good enough.

...Alright, now I'm just getting mopey...but really, who am I kidding? All my fantasies of him--which go in and out of style, but are always abundant and pervasive when I'm in the cycle (it happens every few weeks, of course)--are impossible, and nothing more than more pain for the eventual, hard, utter let-down.

Here's hoping that let-down leaves him in the dark, or else gods-know what shape I'll be in...I don't want to never talk to him again. I love him, no idea why, but I do...and I miss a man I have never, will never, can never have.

25 ~ Awful Aggy

I have been made of failure lately.

And no, I am not fishing for compliments. I swear.

I'm a good person, and I'm doing what I'm supposed to do...mostly. School, family, friends.

But I'm skimping out on some chores, and even more than that...I'm skimping out on myself.

I am not doing much on the relationship front, I am doing nothing on the spiritual front, and my artistic side has been pushed back for far too long. Even this blog, this little slice of my art, is suffering.

It's awful.

But I'm trying, I'm working as hard as I can, to get back on my feet. The balance is hard to find, and I have yet to find it ever, but I am determined to keep at it. I will keep trying, even if all I ever seem to do is fail and fall, because I rock and I win.

Today I experienced a small victory--and by small I mean huge. I finally uploaded pictures dating back to before last Thanksgiving. Pictures of me, my pets, my new hair, my life.

And that, my friends, is one giant leap for Aggykind.

24 ~ First Kiss

My very first kiss was when I was younger than ten.

I was spending time at my great-aunt's house, and she had foster kids. We were horribly mean to each other, and we spent the entire day chasing each other around, pulling pig-tails, the works. Then, I backed him up against the way, and smacked him one on the lips.

Never saw him again.

My first real kiss was when I was fifteen. Quinn was visiting me for two nights and three days. She only visited the once in our eighteen months of dating, though she only lived forty minutes away, because her parents were super-Christian (read: super-assholes). Kaleb helped me sneak her away--chastising me for the risks inherent, which he discovered on the way to her house, because her father was military--but no one was ever the wiser. I walked up to her house in a tight skull shirt, tight jeans, and purple heels.

We spent the first day in my room (I was super-aggressive, she kept having to pin me down before I could ravish her; she was shy, awww) and then walking around the park. I was puppy-sitting for Kaleb, who lived nearby with his fiancee of the time.

At one point, in his empty house, on our way to walking his half-Shepherd, gargantuan dogs, we started kissing. I think I essentially attacked her. Then, continuing to be aggressive, I pulled her to me, pushing myself into the wall, and we made out for ages. Not long enough, of course, but mmm was it sweet.

We kissed a lot that day, and the next, and the nights, and in general. No kissing intimately, but plenty of...other fun.

That's what happens when you raise a tomboy in a Christian household!

23 ~ I'm Feminist?

I don't like isms. Nothing good ever comes from extreme points of view, not directly anyway. Even zealots that agree with me--probably especially zealots that agree with me--are creeptastic. They only hurt my argument. They are the worst of any cause, very few of which are inherently bad.

I used to be a "man-hater"--I didn't trust men, I didn't like men, and I had good reason. I grew out of that, obviously, but a lot of women don't. Lesbians in particular. Who then look down on me for being bisexual. That is the type I associate with feminism--the hardcore women who degrade housewives and the like, which is utter bullshit. I believe in CHOICE, and hardcore feminism is just as repressive as their counterparts.

Most religions piss me off more for their patriarchal undertones than for their other beliefs. You don't like homosexuality? Fine, whatever. Why not? Because every woman needs a man? FUCK THAT SHIT!

I do NOT need a man. I want a man, I do not need one. Upon telling my father this, he said: "A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle."

DAMN RIGHT!

I am pro-women, and pro-men, and pro-choice. I am very pro-things rather than anti-things (though I have plenty antis in me, but I try to tone them down; negativity will give you cancer). The term sex positive comes to mind :) And Christianity and Islam and Judaism, on the whole, in worst case scenarios, when I come into contact with them, are NOT sex positive. In fact, most people aren't; either that or they are indifference, which is often worse. And that drives me insane.

All this came to mind when I debated with my Muslim friend on the bus the other day. Most of what we discussed was homosexuality, because "God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve; if He had wanted people to be gay, he would have made them that way in the first place." UGH, I get angry just thinking about that.

"God took part of Adam to make Eve, which is why women are so strong when it comes to childbirth."

Yeah. I wanted to slap him so hard. But I resisted. And now I want to scream at him. Thankfully I don't talk to him much :)

So yes, I am feminist, and discombobulated, but emotionally on the mend, so oh well! :D

22 ~ Agri Anonymous

Why am I anonymous?

Most people are anonymous online. Even with Facebook, where you can't view most pictures or personal information without adding another person.

However, when it comes to sex (or not quite yet, in my case) blogging, people tend to be extra anonymous. I can't speak for others, but I keep this blog completely separate from my other online accounts--not just Facebook, but Livejournal and Twitter, which are separate from my Facebook, etc. This is an absolutely separate account.

Most sex bloggers that I've seen follow a similar pattern. Most don't show their faces (Half-Nekkid Thursday doesn't generally show enough to identify the person, unless you've seen them naked) and most also keep the rest of their life completely separate from their blog.

Which, again, raises the question: why?

There are several reasons to be secretive. Out of shame, out of fear; to keep things sane, to keep things simple.

Is it simpler to do this blog like this, without any ties to anything related to me, that only Rose knows about? I suppose. It doesn't make much of a difference, really, especially not yet.

Is it saner? I suppose. Again, not much of a difference yet.

Am I afraid? Hell no! I risk my life regularly just by admitting I'm Pagan and bisexual--it's so fun to bring these facts up, especially now, in Texas--so compartmentalizing polyamory doesn't matter much. Most people don't understand the term, and already have plenty of reasons to think I'm having crazy orgies in my spare time as it is.

Am I ashamed? It might seem so--and I might be. I'm not quite sure, myself. Not of being polyamorous, or Pagan, or bisexual, but of talking about it with family and not-close friends...a bit. My parents know I'm bi, and probably know I'm Pagan, and the same is true for most of my friends.

But...

Reading this blog is like reading my vagina's soul. And certain topics--how much I've done sexually, how I plan to escalate, and most importantly, my unrequited love for Kaleb--are DEFINITELY not for my family's ears.

It's...sticky, the situation.

I'm not sure how much sense I'm making, but here it goes: I don't like talking to my family about certain things. Sex in general, philosophy, politics--these are all well and good, but...MY genitals, MY spirituality, MY eccentricities...I don't want them to think everything.

Other friends are just too vanilla for me to talk to them candidly. And that's fine! My parents certainly aren't. And they love me no matter what and would never kick me out of the house or anything. They wouldn't even condemn me for my choices, not in the slightest.

But...(AGAIN!)

They don't like paganism, and they associate nonmonogamy with sluttitude, and I don't want to risk the awkward feeling. I feel that way when I CRY near them; how the hell can I handle THIS?

Maybe one day, but not anytime soon.

Say what you want about me, feel dissapointed, sneer at me, I don't care. I'm being honest, and that's all I ask of myself unerringly. I'm not going to pretend that I'm having sex and telling everyone I meet how things roll with me. (Though I am an open book once I get rolling--with strangers. How odd is that?)

If you asked my parents, they'd tell you I was loud, opinionated, bordering on judgemental, and a total prude. Ironic much? Yeah, I used to not be able to look at myself naked, and I STILL don't want them seeing me naked, but other people...not so much ;)

Gah, my thoughts are a mess today. Hopefully tomorrow runs smoother. (And hopefully I don't fail to post so long ever again!!!)

21 ~ WANTED: Boyfriends

Teehee, it's so much fun to say I'm "boyfriends searching." It tickles me pink still, and I'm not afraid to admit it.

I messaged a whole bunch of OkCupidians a couple of days ago after searching for "polyamory" in my area. I have no idea why I didn't do this earlier, but better late than later! So far I have gotten two responses, and they are very intelligent and intriguing responses. I kinda sound like a dumbass, but oh well. I also often sound like I'm high--which I'm not--so hopefully it's not held against me too harshly.

I think that those who identify as polyamorous are more intelligent than the average dating site persona. Most people on dating sites are scammers, too ugly or socially awkward to date easily elsewhere, and downright idiotic in their responses. I have come across plenty of all three.

Most of the time when I look for people on OkC, I ask myself, Oh gods, what's wrong with this one? Because who the hell uses dating sites? The real catches can get dates in the active world--unless there are other circumstances: time-consuming job, divorced and with children, socially awkward...

Or polyamorous.

It's quite difficult to find other people who practice polyamory, especially in very Christian areas, especially far away from big cities where poly conventions and the like might be held.

What's wrong with me? I suck at talking to people in person, I am not inviting at first glance, and I love my alone time. Today, a boy from my English class actually talked to me, and I was not verbose or warm or engaging. I really suck at being calm and open when alone and in a foreign setting. My truest personality doesn't come out when I'm tired and away from my friends and all around feeling blah.

Hopefully the online searches are fruitful; hopefully I run into a cute and cool guy at school; hopefully, hopefully, hopefully. I suck at this whole dating thing, I have no experience, but I shan't give up! If nothing else, my libido won't let me.

20 ~ Getting Married

No, I am not getting married. Not even close, not anytime soon.

There are only two people I know currently whom I would marry--Sam, and Kaleb. Sam and I are separated by at least three and a half more years of college and distance (if we last that long; if we ever get a chance) and Kaleb...well, we'd have to start a relationship first, and that is doubtful to say the least.

When I was fifteen, I began dreaming about getting married--only because I really wanted to have kids, and I was neck-deep in my first love with Quinn, and I was young and naive.

Not to say I don't still want these things. If anything, I want them more than ever. But, I am a practical, pragmatic, realistic, logical human being, and marriage is a mess.

It's also a wonderful endeavor, but I can barely handle MYSELF right now, much less children. And that's what it all boils down to. I want to be a mother, I want to start when I am young, and I want to have multiple children and really contribute to the gene pool.

I am smart, and beautiful, and healthy. I know I would make a fantastic mama because I already play the role of mother in so many ways--I used to take care of my brother like a mother, I feel extremely maternal towards my parents, I am the shoulder to cry on, I carry the weight of several worlds, I am a conduit for sage advice. And I can handle it.

I am strong, and I am fierce, and I am overflowing with love.

Parenthood takes much more than this--duh--like financial stability (to do it well for the kids and for oneself's mental health), an equal partner, and so forth. Which is why I wait. I am getting my degree, I am going to make decent money and save it, I am going to be all around kickass as a full adult.

And when I am completely ready to have kids (not that I will ever be completely ready to raise kids, but I shall do my very best) I will not depend on marriage to do it right.

You heard me. I am not necessarily getting married first.

Marriage is huge. And it often ends in divorce. And it is a legal mess. Yes, love is awesome, but I have loved enough already to know that it is NOT enough. (No matter what Quinn says, to my great chagrin.)

I may never get married. I love solitude and practicality and Rose and logic and money too much, as they all relate to me, myself, and my future children.

Plus, I know myself pretty damn well, and while this is subject to change...my ideal husband is just about THE COMPLETE OPPOSITE of my "type," AKA what I am most attracted to.

I want someone mild, someone sweet and caring and stable and understanding, who will give me my space, and work alongside me (not always up in my business), and who will understand how many other things come first. If nothing else, my kids, Rose, and practicality. (I call him William.)

The passionate, wild, Alpha male types--the ones that make me swoon, that remind me of my father and Kaleb in all their intense perfection--are not what I consider perfect marriage material for me because we'd probably burn out too quickly.

Maybe I am completely full of shit. It happens. A lot. And maybe someone will prove me wrong in the next few years. (Maybe KALEB will. Again with the dreaming!) But...I have plenty of time to make up my mind yet.

If I ever do, that is ;)

19 ~ HOLY SHIT!!!

Polyweekly (on Twitter) just posted about this here blog.

I am ecstatic and tickled and excited, but my only intellectual response is "HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!! SOMEBODY NOTICED???"

I supposed I am doing this for something other than boredom ;)

Did I mention that I love polyweekly? No? WELL I DO!

And, um...yeah. Being 18 is so fun, because that just made my day into awesomeness :D

Though now I feel really boring as there is nothing much going on in my life in this direction. But who knows? Maybe I'll get interesting in lieu of this joy :)

Also, I just checked out my profile views (it's amazing how little I pay attention, haha), and apparently it's around 81. Coolness! Lack of comments nonwithstanding, that's pretty badass.

18 ~ Open Marriages

I discovered polyamory online, and solidified my understanding through Sexie Sadie's blog, through which I also discovered Jenny Block. (I still need to read her novel, Open.)

Open marriages intrigue me. If I get married one day, the likelihood of it being monogamous is minimal. Either I'll marry my Sam, or I'll marry a man and hope to keep a relationship with Sam, and whoever else I am with at the time. (I am open to change, and I may end up monogamous; it depends on the situation. No need to worry about that just yet. I don't even have a love life now.)

Jenny Block's immediately clicked with me, because that's what I am, essentially, planning for myself. A boyfriend and a girlfriend. (Maybe more, but again, who knows?) I'm bisexual, and I am too intense for just one relationship, I think. Especially now, in my blossoming adult life.

Sexie Sadie's example, however, did not really appeal to me at first. I preferred the idea of polyamory--multiple romantic partners, V's and quads, and so forth. Though now I realize Sam and I are more Open than anything, my interest stands.

What baffles me, however, aside from the entire marriage deal, is people's reactions to nonmonogamy. People baffle me regularly on a plethora of subjects, why would this be any different? It doesn't help that polyamory is widely unknown, misunderstood, and fairly unusual. But in this brave new world--in America of all places, where we be inured to new ideas al-damn-ready--people still react with hate, intolerance, and cruelty.

Husbands in open relationships seem to catch more specific shit than open wives, who are labeled "sluts" or "whores" (like any sexually liberated female, sadly), but it is the men that have difficulty finding partners and not being treated like a misogynistic prick for their choices.

Even though, as far as I have seen (and I could, of course, be completely wrong), it is the wives who suggest opening up the marriage. I don't know of many examples, but between Sexie Sadie, Jenny Block, and Frederick, it was always the woman who brought the idea up. Whether because they were unable to be monogamous, unable to avoid cheating, or whatever else, it was the women who brought it up first.

This makes sense to me. Most guys seem unable to brave that little bit of communication. They might not want to try because they want their wives more than anything, or they'd rather just cheat than risk her trust and partnership, but men--the biologically hornier of the sexes--keep quiet on these ideas. And that's admirable, but unfair.

Maybe, just maybe, more women would be open to such an arrangement than most people think. Men want to have sex, a lot, and few things get in their way. Women succumb to fatigue, and menstruation, and pregnancy, and not being in the mood, and even age. Men are almost always willing, never menstruate, never get pregnant, are almost always willing (did I already say that?), and keep at it until well into middle age. (They can keep fathering children, for gods-sake!) As long as the relationship was honest and open, the extra spice openness can bring into a marriage is very appealing.

Obviously this would not work for everyone. Many people love being monogamous, and others can't get over jealousy, or have problems being completely communicative, or don't have time in their life for the extra stress and work openness requires. But if it was a more acceptable alternative to divorce and unhappiness, and if there was more of a community to help married people out...it seems like all this would work better.

But what do I know? ;P

17 ~ Icky Poly

First, some denotations (AKA, the Greek definitions): and my personal connotations:

Polygamy: "the practice of multiple marriage"

Polygyny: "many" + "woman/wife"

Polyandry: "many" + "man"

Polyamory: "many" + "loves"

My personal connotations:

Polygamy: One person married to more than one other. This bothers me because it's one person with many others--not many with many. Plus, it brings to mind the thought of polygyny, where one man has many wives as virtual slaves. That is not always the case, of course, but it is the best known one, and it makes me cringe to hear the word.

Polygyny: This is what most people think of when they hear polygamy. A man with multiple wives who are essentially his slaves; it's common in other cultures and alternative religious sects. It bothers me for the misogynistic tone and for the lack of balance in sexual partners.

Polyandry: I have never heard of this outside of the realm of intellect, so I have nothing to say here. It appears to be much less common, and a lot less practical from a child-bearing, satisfaction-granting perspective. One pregnancy at a time and a lot of excess sperm. Most women can't even keep up with a single man, for gods' sake! Again, I am generalizing, but it's the usual case.

Polyamory: This is what I strive for. It is a term that often reminds others of polygamy, inspiring fear and trepidation in their hearts. I don't blame them. Polygamy is too easily, and too often, abused.

I am interested in a multiple marriage--not that it can be legal in this country; not even a same sex marriage is, not really, goddammit--for the social and comfort aspects. Lots of people you love to help with bills, and sexual needs, and raising your children, to hang out with, to love, to comfort...it would be awesome.

Maybe in the future it will be possible--or maybe we'll just keep it out of the eyes of legality :)

This post was inspired by a blog of Sexie Sadie's.

16 ~ Wet Dreams

I think I orgasm in my sleep.

Not big orgasms, mind you, but little ones. I think this because my sex dreams--and almost all of the dreams that I remember have sex in them; as do, apparently, ones I don't remember being sexy (like last night's)--are really pleasurable. I have a vivid imagination, but...wow. I am never able to make myself feel that way while awake.

I woke up this morning with cum in my underwear. Not a lot, but the amount I expect from reading erotica; that quiet drenching, if you will. My first reaction was: What the fuck? I'd dreamt of zombie apocalypses, fear, excitement, and my dead dog--NOT of sex!

Apparently my unconscious is keeping some secrets ;)

I feel very fortunate for this (the sexy dreams and sleeping orgasms) because I am still not getting any action, and I never find masturbating to be fun. I prefer real sex...though a vibrator would be nice.

Ah, well; my birthday is drawing fucking nigh...

15 ~ My Wife

Every time Sam and I talk lately, it's mostly about marriage.

As in, my dad loves her now, so he'll probably give us his blessing.

As in, I already discussed it with him.

As in, fucking hell yes.

It's odd, and awesome, and really? I would love to marry Sam. I always imagined myself getting married to a dude, but with poly, I wouldn't have to give up hetero-sex...y'know, when I start having it and all.

So...yeah. Hm...

14 ~ My Love

Rose and I have been together for one year as of today.

We were friends before, from sixth grade to tenth, but it was not good times, and it was best that we ended it when we did. Then, two years, a lot of tears, pain, and anger later, we rocked hardcore, and started talking again.

And it's been uphill ever since.

Seriously. It just keeps getting better. Is love always like this? Because it's amazingly odd, and I can't think of anyone better suited to being with me for the rest of my life.

Just without the sex. That's what makes us work flawlessly :)

13 ~ Bruised Egos

Yesterday I told Hank that I didn't want any sort of romantic or FWB relationship with him.

Really? You figured all that out after one date?

Yeah, I did.

Well then, I didn't think it would work out either.

Uh huh. That's why you were asking--pretty much demanding--I give you a second chance. Riiight.

Why don't you want to try?

Why don't you?

I'll answer if you do.

I'm not attracted to you.

That was easy. You're too young for me; you don't have the right mindset for romance.

So you were begging for a second change because...?

You know, I didn't come across as romantic because I decided immediately that the answer was no.

I think you should give me a second chance.

Yeah, after all this passive-aggressive bullshit. I'll get right on that.

I shared all this with Jonah, and he laughed, and basically said:

You badly bruised his ego. He's just trying to save face. But you're not a pussy factory, so fuck him. Though obviously not literally.


Too bad I'm still boyfriendless--and sexless :(      

12 ~ Mr. Right

We already know that I know nothing, but in my secondary fantasies--the ones in which I am forced to give up on Kaleb--I imagine my future husband, my perfect mate, like this...

He is the antithesis of what I'm attracted to emotionally. He is not an alpha male, but he is strong. He's not aggressive, but he's also not a pushover. He's subtle, and quiet, and sweet--the opposite of me. We fit together flawlessly. He listens when I babble, he is charmed by my flaws, he is able to calm me down and keep me sane. When I have the weight of dozens of worlds on my shoulders, he lets me cry on his, and he pets my hair and rubs my back and whispers sweet everythings in my ear. He can stand up to me, handle me, especially when I get a little crazy.

Physically he is, of course, my perfect male. Possibly Irish. Tall, and slender, but toned, with tousled hair and soulful eyes, possibly green. He has a soft and sexy voice and he never gets mad at me, just frustrated or annoyed. (Who doesn't?) He talks me down from my rages and gets distracted when I walk into a room. Essentially, he is my opposite--quite masculine, but with feminine softness. I am utterly comfortable with him, and I can tell him almost everything. (Everything everything is reserved for Rose, of course. It's how girl's work.) He understands this and goes to her for advice on me. He knows me inside and out ;) and I know him, too. He'll be the stay-at-home dad and I'll be supermom until I burn out...and he picks me back up again.

I love him insanely.

His latest name is William. Where are you, my William?

11 ~ Hanging Out

I hang out with Hank today.

I woke up at 6:30 and took the wrong bus once in town so I was late. Then we walked, a lot, and he bought me a pack of cigarettes, and we had yummy pizza, and then we played pool. He was in bad form today, and after two hours, I sucked less!

He's cute, and fun, and funny, and charming, and cool. But there wasn't that spark.

I guess I'm yet another girl who doesn't have a clue of what she wants.

Or, maybe I do, but it's Kaleb, and goddammit that ruins it for the rest of us--especially my poor, neglected vagina.

Sigh.

10 ~ I Apologize...

...TO NO ONE!

At least, not as far as my choices in life, love, religion, and relationships go.

To suggest that anyone has the right or the power to make me feel small or dirty or evil for the way I live my life is beyond wrong, it is DESPICABLE.

I do not give a shit what strangers think of me. I care about what my parents think of me (to a certain extent), what my family thinks of me (to a certain extent), to what my brother thinks of me (absolutely), what my Rose thinks of me (times a million)...so I really don't have time to care about THE WORLD.

Fact is, there are SIX BILLION people on this earth, and if given the opportunity, they would ALL have their own thoughts on how I live my life. Good people would have negative things to say, bad people would have positive, and vice versa. Yes, it would be grand if my idols and people who inspire me and people who are awesome all thought Damn that Agri is one awesome chick, but most of them will ever even know I EXIST, much less how I function, much less agree with who and what I am.

And that's okay.

If the Dalai Lama and Melissa Marr and Sexie Sadie never know me, never think of me, never have opinions on me, that's okay. And if THAT is okay, so is the throngs of close-minded or just different minded people out there who WILL come into contact with me.

I really don't have the time to worry about it.

Note: Post inspired by rereading Sexie Sadie yet again. It's a passionate subject with me, as I have struggled with caring about public opinion in my past, and gods-know I am not necessarily over it 1,000%, but my feelings remain the same.

9 ~ Shitstorm Imminent

I am going to fuck this up.

Polyamory, romance, love, life, everything, in general.

Maybe a lot, maybe a little, maybe both.

It's how everything works.

There are learning curves and there is trial-and-error and there is dumb, blind luck. So many factors, so many variables that are so important and so impossible to predict.

Even if I was perfect, which I am SO not, there would be fuck-ups. It's the way things work. I am not being pessimistic or fatalistic, as much as it sounds that way.

I am an optimist wrapped in realism, I am a realist wrapped in pessimism, I am a pessimist wrapped in optimism.

I hope for--and work for--the best, but life happens. I know that life is crazy and wild and unpredictable and balance, and bad things will come of it. I have been through, continue to, and will always have shit to deal with--but life is worth it, life is also REALLY FUCKING AWESOME.

I know there will be good, I know there will be bad...I know all of that is just perspective, I know everything will eventually pass, and change.

I'm okay with that. I relish it. I thrive in it. I am HAPPY for it.

All I hope is to do my best, continue to grow closer to Rose, and LEARN. Always, always, ALWAYS learn from my mistakes, my successes, the mistakes and successes of others.

That's LIFE, and whether monogamous or nonmonogamous, it will always be, just...life.

Just making sure it's obvious NOW, so that I don't seem to be ONLY retrospective, and because--when the time comes--I'm sure I'll appreciate the reminder...from myself...preemptively.

8 ~ Sexie Sadie

I started this blog, pseudonym and all, because of a very fabulous lady, my favorite sex-blogger, my favorite BLOGGER, the only one I follow religiously--Ms. Sexie Sadie.

http://confessionsfrommyopenmarriage.blogspot.com is ABSOLUTELY A-FUCKING-MAZING!!!

On my search for all things poly, I came across her blog somehow. I don't remember the specifics, and I don't much care, because I am forever grateful.

It's not just nonmonogamy that she talks about and that I learned about (and am still learning about) from reading her blog. It is life and love and her and emotional health and dealing with addiction and, most importantly, MARRIAGE.

I will be the first person to admit that I don't know everything. Not even CLOSE. It's the source of my "enlightenment."

Aggy, why are you so awesome and mature and wise and composed? some people ask. (Or, at least, they SHOULD, because I AM, and because Rose gets asked that, and we are so very similar.)

Because I know I don't know shit, and I'm totally cool with that.

Also because my main motto is "No regrets!" and I am always learning.

I love learning.

Through Ms Sadie's blog, I learn about her, and through her I learn about myriad things. The most prevalent one is marriage.

I grew up with real-life happily-ever-afters. Strong, lasting, growing, beautiful marriages between amazing people. It's why I know true love exists and marriage can work. Sadie reinforces this.

And through her I see the complexities and intricacies and details of such a marriage (though, of course, not all of them, and, of course, not a traditional one--not that "tradition" factors into my life, um, AT ALL). And the knowledge has absolutely FLOORED me.

It's all well and good to know the theory of marriage. Hard work, communication, real-life shit to wade through, personal flaws and the flaws of the other, child-rearing, and so forth. But I have always been the child, or the child's friend, or the family friend, or a relative, or a distant observer. Reading Sadie's blog, I see a slice of her perspective, and it is completely different.

It's hard to explain, and I've been rambling long enough anyway, so the long and the short of it is...Sexie Sadie is amazing, her blog is wonderful, her writing is wonderful, through it I have found so much information and so much that is and will be relevant to my own life, and I am still a huge fan eagerly awaiting the next installment.

Also, the sex stuff? Is amazing :)

7 ~ True Love

True love is what a mother feels for a child.

True love is what a couple of seventy years feels for each other.

True love is what I feel for Rose.

I truly love my parents. I truly love my brothers. I truly love my friends, my Sam, my self...but TRUE LOVE is something altogether different.

True love is sharing white chocolate, which is like WHOA. True love is the willingness to share sushi (which Rose doesn't like anyway). True love is being okay with your best friend having a crush on your boyfriend, because really, I tell you everything, and it is amazing, so OF COURSE you are crushing ;)

True love is selfless. True love is constant. True love is deep and pure and everlasting. True love is giving all the pieces of ourselves over for scrutiny, even the parts we have yet to reconcile with. True love is being able to share anything and everything--and constantly--and knowing it will never come back to bite you in the ass, in any way, EVER.

I know that I have the capacity for many loves. (DUH, POLY-AMORY!) However...I do not have the time. I love my self so much, and my solitude, and so many others, that in order to balance them all (which I still suck at) I simply cannot deal with too many people.

FWBs are one thing. Even boyfriends are completely separate. Love, in all its myriad, wonderful, common-yet-extraordinary forms has nothing to do with TRUE LOVE.

I have a true love in Roselyn. Superior to any boyfriend. We are connected in all ways--mental, emotional, metaphysical--in spite of the distance. In fact, that 1500 mile separation has had no effect on us whatsoever. We grow closer DAILY.

I am completely happy with having Rose, and boyfriends, and FWBs, and friends, and family all separate. One day I will also have children, and, and, and...it's endless.

But Rose is constant. And she is ALL I need in this department.

As for my other true love...well, my dog can have her post later :)

6 ~ Praise OkC

My account is already fruitful.

If nothing else, yay eye candy!

Seriously, though, I have already met three awesome peeps: Jonah, an awesome friend who I met in person today; Hank, a major potential romance who I have a date with on Friday; and Frederick, a possible part-time boyfriend.

Plus, only one asshole has assaulted me so far! And it was barely assault. The conversation boiled down to:

It's not fair.

Huh?

You get two relationships, your boyfriend doesn't.

Don't presume to know what polyamory means to me. It doesn't necessarily work just one way.

So he gets to watch? Or have a threesome? It's only fair.

...

Hey, gotta go, talk to ya later!

Yeah, no.

A few "hey beautiful," I have a name you know, "how u," this isn't a conversation, "blah blah blah," silence moments--but hey, cute girls attract weirdos. (And not always the good kind.)

At least online they can be ignored, restraining orders optional! I seriously need a goddamn bodyguard to walk to and from the bus, and even fucking then...

5 ~ Knowing Compersion

I know I'm skipping around quite a bit, but I first felt that polyamory was right for me--plausible, possible, probable--when I discovered that I feel compersion.

Compersion is a polyamory term that corresponds to the feeling of pleasure or joy because a partner is experiencing it, though their source is one outside yourself.

Sam has a boyfriend, and not only do I feel absolutely no jealousy, I feel downright happy to know she has someone to spend time with and have fun with while I am unavailable.

Plus, he knows about us and is perfectly amenable.

Not only did I experience compersion, I experienced it even after Cat was the one to tell me first that Sam had a boyfriend. (I finally, after several weeks, know his damn name--Edward. And he's super cute, of course; we would accept nothing less.) I was totally unphased. Essentially, my response was, "I love her, I trust her, and we agreed to date outside one another. Her not telling me doesn't mean anything. It's her life, and I'm happy for her."

This new direction I am taking feels juuust right.

4 ~ My "Plans"

Sam and I are Open, and I am looking for polyamorous relationships as well as FWBs (friends-with-benefits).

Why?

Sam and I are roughly 1500 miles away from one another, and at the earliest (AKA, if I don't, I will scream) I am visiting her this upcoming summer. As well as my best friend, Rose, my non-biological and unrequited love, Kaleb, my good-yet-infuriating pal, Cat, and many others--including, hopefully, a tattoo shop.

Which means that I just can't wait for her.

Polyamory's taglines include "love is infinite" and "we can't be everything to the ones we love." These both apply to Sam and me. I love her, but she doesn't have all my love, and I want her in my life, but the distance is a big barrier. It's hard enough to find a good relationship without suffering for one you want to keep, not kill.

We are on the same page, and it is wonderful. I am moving into this whole thing slower than she is, because I left my entire social life (which took six fucking years to build) back home. A lot of it has fragmented, as everyone's gone off to college, and that's just one more reason why I am now here instead of there.

I'm on OkC, I'm taking things slow, and I have high hopes for the future.

3 ~ Sexual History

Many would consider me "not really poly," and I don't disagree with them...for now.

In fact, I'm "not really anything" right now, because I am still a virgin. Eighteen years old and still a virgin. The thought plagues me daily.

There's no good reason for it. I was raised with amazing, understanding parents who taught me to think for myself and love who I am as a person. It took me a while to get there, but I'm here, and still no sex.

Sometimes it feels like a divine conspiracy. I am pretty, I have D-cups and a Puerto Rican ass, and I'm a totally awesome person. I have fooled around with several girls, most especially my ex Quinn, and with one guy, Kevin (K) my ex semi-boyfriend. But still no sex.

Part of that is because I have a high opinion of myself and standards to match, even when I was at my most depressed and self-hateful. (I am very proud of myself for avoiding dumbass decisions!) Even when I was getting shit-faced and making out with girls in closets and rubbing up on guys I'd never met. For which I am ever grateful, no thanks to Catherine (Cat), my ex-best still-friend. But I digress.

Whatever the reason, I am NOT going to endure my virginity for my longer. I am on OkCupid, I am chatting people up, I have plans for next week, I am going to college, and I am an adult. I may live with my parents, but I am their ward no longer.

The result? Sam and I are Open.

2 ~ Oh Hank

I met Hank on OkC, and we started talking today. Five hours online, and now five hours on the phone. He is  sweet and smart and funny and serious about relationships and we click really well.

Oh, and did I mention Hank is a black guy? I thought I knew what a big dick was. I mean, K was hung, like eight inches and wide enough to strain my jaw.

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA.

My white friends are full of shit. "Hung like a black guy"--they don't know what this phrase means. When Hank told me how big he is, I went "OMG AHHH OWWW MY WOMB HURTS" for a full five minutes.

Sure, he might be exaggerating. (Though why? This isn't exactly "bragging," this is a fucking warning label.) But I don't think so.

When flaccid, eight inches by two and a half.

Yeah...

Plus, we get along super duper well already, instant connection, nonstop talking, attraction, the works.

I go back to school next Monday. I have Wednesday morning free, and Friday all to myself. Maybe I won't be an unhappy virgin too much longer...

(Is it just me, or is this entry a little incoherent? Well, wouldn't you be?!?!?!)

Edit: Also, we get along amazingly, talked for a total of ten hours (maybe more) and...yeah. Now school can't get here fast enough :)

1 ~ Finding Polyamory

Like any story worth reading, mine begins with a girl.

Three years ago, I met Samantha.

Sam and I were both 15, though not long after we met we turned 16. It was a crazy time for us both. Ironically enough, both of our emotional terrorists were named Frederick. I was unaware of just how deeply her pain ran, or just how badly she was hurting herself, but there were no lasting ill-effects beyond the usual emotional scars.

We clicked almost instantly. Our macabre humor was born of ugliness, but gave us a change to freak out our classmares and be like no other to each other.

Sam had a crush on me, and I had a crush on Sam. But nothing ever happened. I had a long-distance girlfriend (Quinn) and I hated myself too much to ever believe she could like me, so of course nothing came of it. Except, of course, my novel.

Looking back, it was all quite obvious. We have always behaved like a couple, rife with drama, but without all the fun, sexy stuff. I have a lot of fond memories, and a lot of less-than-pleasant ones, but I regret none of them.

About a year and a half ago, we had lost touch, and I emailed her so delicately and sweetly that she had her boyfriend drive her to my house at 1am, where we proceeded to talk-talk-talk-talk and talk some more--as well as to kiss, once, clumsily, with teeth, and me laughing, and the mood never recovered.

Again, we fell out of contact for a while.

Then, in the second half of my last year of high school, we reconnected. She saved me on a regular basis from my last two classes and drove me anywhere and everywhere. Usually to the mall. We talked and laughed and cut class with none of my teachers ever the wiser. Once again, we might as well have been a couple.

Then, disaster hit.

Disaster for "us," anyway. Right after graduation, I was to move away, to Texas. We were reconnecting, a relationship was imminent...but it wasn't enough of a reason for me to stay in a worse economy, where even with a scholarship I would have to pay for room and board, food, transportation, and everything else. Where would my dog go? How would I afford a place? Was it worth it?

No, it wasn't worth staying where I had no family and few friends.

The night before I left, she visited me briefly, and when I walked her to her car in the middle of a dark and creepy street, she kissed me. Three times. On the lips, so sweetly, so softly. I was stunned, I had no idea how to react. Another friend of mine was standing right there!

So I said goodbye, and I left, and now I'm here.

But this is not the end of Sam and I. Oh, no, not by a long shot, not if I can help it. You see, I missed her terribly when I came here, all alone in this house for several weeks, that one of my first acts upon getting the internet back was to talk to her on Facebook. Late at night and for hours. I wanted her and I to be something, and she wanted that, too.

But we had to face the facts. I may be female, but I am pretty damn horny, and I've been lonely enough for the past eighteen years, I saw no reason to keep that up. Neither did she.

So I hopped onto Google...

And there it was, the answer to my problems.

Polyamory.