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 :)
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
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 :/
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 :/
Sunday, February 21, 2010
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
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
Thursday, February 18, 2010
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...
;)
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...
;)
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
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!!!
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!!!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, February 8, 2010
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!
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!
Friday, February 5, 2010
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
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
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
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!!!)
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!!!)
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