Monday, September 12, 2011

All Good Things Must ...

In the past year and some odd months, I have journeyed down some pretty interesting roads and met some  interesting people. I set out to see what my dating life could be like outside the boundaries and constraints of the search for monogamy and love. In order to bind myself to this decision, I made a pact. That pact existed in the form of a blog. This blog, to be exact. This blog served as a written contract of sorts.

When I started the blog, I set out to tell of my adventures in dating. That was all I wanted to talk about. So, that is all I shared on. I blogged about my dating life. I didn't talk of my family or my friends. I didn't tell the story of how I dropped out of high school and worked my way to an ivy league school. I didn't talk about the things I love or the things that interest me. I just talked about my life as a sexually active, dating woman. That's all I had wanted to do.

It was great at times. Telling the stories that had forever been kept secret in mind freed me in a way I cannot even begin to describe. Women wrote me saying how they found comfort and freedom in my words. Men and women alike found my blog to be funny and entertaining. People found it sad at times. It was a lot like life. But, it wasn't life. It isn't life. It's a blog. It's not even a blog about my life. It's a blog about my life as a serial dater. It wasn't even about my dating life as a whole. It was one year of my dating life.

For one year, I stepped outside of the things that I had normally done. For one year, I backed away from my wants for love and companionship, because I had been driven by those things in the past. I wanted to ignore them for a short time and see what life could be like. I did. And, it was amazing. It was freeing and it was liberating. But, it was also lonely as hell.

For one year, every relationship I formed, every new bond I made was based on one small aspect of myself. People knew about the blog. If they didn't, I (or a friend) introduced them to it. People loved it and they hated it. It made some want to get close to me and I allowed that to happen. So, for that one year, I lived and blogged an experiment in life. It's not to say I wasn't really living and feeling, because I was. I was feeling all sorts of things. But, my interactions were not as organic as I would have wanted.

People that barely knew me started to draw conclusions on why I would write a blog like this. They passed judgments over drinks and talked about what they thought to be my motivation. People that I had never met thought they knew me and people that I thought I was getting to know never really met me. Relationships that I thought to be real turned out to be results of the blog. I got support and compassion from total strangers. I found solace in responses to posts. The responses were real, but they weren't enough. Someone that I care about dearly recently told me that I was portraying sex. That's all he saw me as. He had read the blog before meeting me. And, maybe he was right. But, I know I am more than that. I just chose not to share all of the aspects of myself with all of the readers of this blog. So, for those of you that don't know me (and that is pretty much everyone at this point), here's a little introduction.

I'm one of 6 kids. I grew up in a small mobile home in Houston, TX. I had some family issues and moved out of the mobile home at the ripe old age of 14. I moved in with my sister. More family issues pushed me to drop out of school and at 17 I found myself on my own, completely. I had a boyfriend that I clung to. When we broke up, I found a new boyfriend to cling to and this same story repeated for the next 8 years or so. After I dropped out of high school, I became a massage therapist. Practiced massage for 5 years and saved up some money.

After 5 years, I quit my job and went back to school. At 23 I got my GED and started to a community college. I scored really well on the GED, so the community college gave me a scholarship. While getting my AA at the community college, I worked as a sandwich girl at a local neighborhood deli. During this time I met a really nice guy and I started dating him. He's the one I was with last. He was/is a great guy.

While going to school and working at the deli, I got an internship with a Houston city council member. I worked hard and turned that internship into a job. For the next 3 years, I worked for the Council Member and dated the nice man. At the end of the Council Member's term, I applied to a very prestigious school in New England. Some things happened and the boyfriend and I parted ways. I got accepted to the school and I moved to New England.

While earning my BA in Government and Political Behavior, I remained single and celibate. I dated no one, had no companionship through my first two years of school. But, I made it just fine. During my second year of school, I received a call early one morning. The call was my mother telling me that my sister had been killed in a car accident. I went home. While home, my brother was in a bad car accident and he was severely injured. I spent an entire month with him in the hospital. Then, I went back to school.

Within my first two weeks back at school, my mother called to tell me that she had a cancerous tumor in her thyroid. And, my other brother had also been diagnosed with testicular cancer. My mother had surgery and made a full recovery and my brother is now in remission after a year of radiation. I had to take a step back and look at life.

My mother had married an alcoholic (my father) because she thought she could change him. My sister had been married three times and tried her hardest to do the right thing, then she was killed. I just didn't know what to do. But, I knew I wanted to step out of the life I had been told to live. So, I did. And I had fun with it. Nothing in my life has been traditional or routine. If I had stuck with the tradition of my neighborhood, I would have gotten married to a neighborhood boy right after or during high school, had a few of his kids and I would be living in a trailer in my parents' side lawn. If I had followed my own path, I would be a high school drop out working in a deli. I don't know how I was supposed to live. I don't know what the right thing is.

Having said all that, having told you all that, you still don't know me. Because, I am not my dating life and I am not the details of my life. These are merely ways for you to see more of my motivation. Hopefully, these few details of my life help you understand why I don't regret much of my life. And, even though this blog has stood in the way of me forming any real relationships in the past year, even though it has lead to some harsh judgments from people that do and do not know me, I wouldn't take back one word. I wouldn't change one thing. Because, the solitude that it lent gave me time to get to know myself in ways I would never have gotten to know myself.

And now, it's time to end it. I've gotten just about all I am going to get out of this experience and I am ready to move on. I don't regret it. I won't pull it down or hide it. I am not ashamed. I am just ready to move on to a new chapter. I am ready to rejoin the world and start having real relationships again. When I meet someone, I don't want there to be any glimmer in their eye. I want them to have only the same prejudice that they have for every one else they meet. Nothing special here. So, thank you to all of the people that have read and appreciated my blog. And thank you to those that have passed judgment, felt compassion or laughed along with me. I have battled with this, cried over it and now, I am sure that this is the last post of My Life As A Serial Dater. Happy dating everyone.

With Love,
Jehnifer (AKA Poly)

P.S. I feel I should note that I have (in the past year) formed one relationship that has meaning and will live on. I love you Chris.  

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

You're Not Welcome

I know what you all must be thinking; She got into a relationship and fell off on her writing. Not true. I am still very much single. I just fell off on the writing with no valid excuse to think of. But, a turn of events has left me unable to ignore my bloggerly duties any longer. I need to vent/get some opinions/clown this dude.

So, I feel I must share with you guys that I love men. If you haven't noticed, I like them a lot ... especially at first. Then, the like starts to fade a bit. And then, it's over. This is not one of the typical situations. This recent experience was one that was wholly different. I never liked this guy. Maybe for a brief (very brief) moment in time, like when he first viewed my profile. I deleted my dating profile a month (or more) back. But this is the story of the one who fell through the cracks. He had my number and he was just waiting to use it. This is the last post of online dating, I hope.

He texted out of the blue. I had his name in my phone, but I didn't remember who he was. He said I had given him my number on OkCupid and I suppose I had saved his name and number.  The first few texts were just what I had gotten used to/sick of in the online dating world. He asked how I was. I was fine. He asked what I was up to. I had just gotten off work. He asked for a pic to refresh his memory. I sent a reasonable pic: not too sexy and cute enough, while being a true representation of me. He said I looked beautiful and that he looked forward to meeting me.

A few days pass and I get another text from him ... "More pics?" I now knew a little more about what I was dealing with. I responded that he already knew what I look like. And he said "I just want to see you again. Your pictures make me smile." Bleh.

A few more days pass and he texts, "What are you doing this evening?" Okay. So, he's looking to hang out tonight. Sometimes I am okay with that. I don't mind a last-minute hang out in some situations. But, this was not one of them and I didn't feel like hanging out. I told him I was not going to be getting out that evening.

The next day, he texts that he wishes I would send him a picture. At this point, he starts to get annoying. Then, he asks if he can swing by my place. I respond, "No." I am not allowing a man I do not know to come meet me at MY house. I would sooner go to his place. Randoms are not allowed in my home. No chance. He texts back "Oh you one of those 'I have to meet in public' chicks?" Ok. Enough. Yes. I am also one of those "I still have my life and limbs" chicks. And, who says chicks? Anyway, I made it very clear that he would not be coming to my home. Again, he asked for a picture, noting that he wants this one to show a little more.  I guess my repeated declines had led him to believe it was a good idea to ask for more. The rejection was making him greedy? I made it clear that if he wanted to meet for coffee, we could meet, but his texts requesting pics and last-minute hook ups were just getting tiring.

Later that day, I'm at the gym and he texts ... again, "So, I meant to ask. Do you have a booty?" Are you for real? I get a little amped when I work out anyway, so there was no way I was not letting ol' dude have it. I texted back that if he had wanted to meet, he would have asked me by now. At this point he was just trolling and I was not interested in supplying him with pictures and descriptions so that he could jack off while his mom was at work. He had the nerve to respond that he was just being a man. Piss poor excuse, guys.

If you read this blog, I am going to assume you don't try to pull that 'boys will be boys shit." I assume this, because I assume you are all men. But, if (for some odd reason) you have ever acted an asshole and tried to make the "I'm just being a man" excuse, know that we know other men. We have a base and foundation of comparison. And, hopefully, we know respectful men. This guy just made himself look worse when he demonstrated that he had a lesser understanding and knowledge of how men really approach women. Maybe this is how he and all his friends try to get dates. Or, maybe his friends just act like they do shit like this when they talk to each other, sans women.

But, either way, I don't see these tactics scoring big. I went out to lunch with myself a couple days ago and I saw the female equivalent to this guy out on a date. She was talking to the man about how he gave women too much credit and we really aren't that smart. I wanted to shut my laptop, lean over my table and politely tell her to speak for her fucking self. But, I thought this to be a moot request. Inevitably, this guy had met other women. Inevitably, he already knew that she had no way to speak for all women for her shortcomings. She wasn't a 'dumb girl', she was just a stupid person.

So, to all the daters out there that just fall short, Be better. If you aren't smart, just be quiet and act shy. Don't try to hide under your gender blanket after you say or do stupid shit. Your lack of manners has nothing to do with your manhood. And if you think you are dumb because you are a woman, you're wrong. The assumption that you are the first person of your gender that your date (or possible date) has ever encountered, is misguided. They have inevitably met smart women, or men that know you have to respect everyone, always.

Turns out the man on the date was married and his wife was a professor and photographer. Ouch. Nothing is fair. As for me and the guy with the texts, you guessed it. We have a date coming up at the end of never. I will never meet him. I'm not that harsh of a critic, but he will never get a chance. Sucks for him too, because once you get a few drinks in me I'm an easy lay. If only he hadn't sent such dumb texts.

(Footnote: I am a gossip and some women in the restaurant knew the man on the date with the stupid lady. We shared notes on the date we had all witnessed.)


Thursday, August 18, 2011

Love?

One of my young friends asked me once if I had ever had an orgasm. I was young, as well. So, this was not a rare conversation. I could tell by her tone that there were probably going to be questions to follow if I answered that I had. I had, so following my answer, she asked how would she know when she has one. I had expected questions, but I had no idea how to answer this one.

I think my response probably left her feeling a lot like I feel when someone tries to explain to me how they found Jesus, or how they can feel God. I tried to explain how orgasms came in waves ... How they made you tingle and kinda rolled over you while simultaneously punching you in the stomach. I tried to explain that no two were the same. But, clitoral and vaginal felt very distinctly different from one another. But, when it came to knowing, I gave the same answer I had surely been given in regards to many things. It was the same answer I would be given when I asked about being in love ... You'll know when it happens.

I may not know about many things. But, I do know that the female orgasm is no myth. It's not intangible and it's not as elusive (or illusive, in my opinion) as God or love. So, after two paragraphs regarding the orgasm, I will transition into the real topic of this post; Love.

I was on a date recently, (it was one of those dates that almost feels like an interview) and somehow, the topic of love came up. The guy asked me if I had ever been in love. I paused for a moment and then I started, "Well..." He stopped me there and in a smug, older man kind of way, he said, "You haven't. You'd know if you had." I went on to argue that there are a lot of different kinds of love and he quickly pulled the rug out from under all of my logic and argument and said, simply "There is no universal definition, but if you had been in love, you would have just said yes. It was a simple question."

Was it? Was it really that simple? Most of my single girlfriends that are around my same age have been in long relationships. But, for the most part, those relationships happened in our early and mid-twenties. We were head over heels for the guys involved at some point, but eventually, we were just dealing with, or tolerating them. I remember being infatuated with some of the guys I was with. But, I don't remember really feeling like I was in love. The infatuation had the struggle and the pursuit, but it rarely had the good warm feeling that I want to associate with being in love.

There were also some of us that had our second or third relationship in our mid to late-twenties. For some of us, this was the pragmatic relationship. It's the one you enter into because you function well together. You have things in common and you both have cars and good jobs. It just makes sense. But, again, it isn't what you might associate with being in love.

This is why I pause before answering. I don't really know. He's right. If I'm stalling, I guess I've never been in love. But, I am an agnostic. So, I tend to think of love as a very pragmatic sort of comfort that someone develops after getting to know and growing to trust another person after an extended (arbitrary) length of time. And, I think of "being in love" or "falling in love" as some sort of fantasy state. I can't say I actually believe that one falls in love and all is well.

I think we were all sold a bunch of bullshit, especially women. And even more so, the women of my mother's generation. They were taught that their self worth was wrapped up in the idea of someone falling in love with them. They were taught that there would be a rebel or a bad-boy that would only have a soft spot for them. They were taught that they were meant for one special person out there. And that his life would not be complete, that he could not settle down, until he had her love. And, I just can't buy the view of the 'love' that was propagated by Doris Day, Rock Hudson and Disney. I refuse to be the Miss Piggy chasing her Kermit. (Though, Kermit was a pretty cool guy.)

I don't believe in any of that. I don't spend days dreaming of my Prince Charming. Most of my fantasies involve visions of rough sex, where very little is said.  They are a far cry from the dreams of a troubled man will come settling down for love. I actually want something very different. My love is already stable. His choice to settle down and enjoy monogamy will have come before meeting me. I don't hope for a love that transforms another person or me.

I just hope to be ready if that pragmatic, logical partner should come around. It would suck to be offered a beautiful house and have no land on which to put it. I have to be in the right place. And, no matter how strong the love is, or how great the guy, I have to be ready. So, this is what happens to love in the mind of the 30 year old. This is what becomes of love after the twenties have come to a close. Love becomes a series of pros and cons. If the pros outweigh the cons, I will consider it. And, if I should "fall in love" along the way, all the better. 

Friday, August 12, 2011

in·ar·tic·u·late

Yep. That's me. Over the past few weeks, I have really started to realize how awful I am at communicating. I want so desperately to do it. But, as soon as I am in a situation where I have the ear of the person to which I want to relay my thoughts/feelings, I lose all eloquence and ability. I don't really know how this would be cute, if it were. But, that doesn't matter, because it's not cute. It's not cute or quirky at all.

I clam up. I say things that are indirect and never relay the message my brain and heart want to send. I end up going in circles and never, ever do I land at a conclusion that can get me any closer to the where I want to be. My words are counter-intuitive to my wants. So, instead of saying the things I want to say, I write.  Writing is my way of communicating. Trouble is, in this case, what needs to be communicated to one person is being communicated to hundreds of people. But, this is the best I can do. And, trust me, I know my best is not good enough. Baby steps.

This is the story of my most recent communication failure. I met a guy. He's funny, smart and a bit neurotic. We are sexually compatible, able to chill for hours on end and our communication is as good as it can be with me and anyone. He's open and we talk through a lot of things without talking too much. Lately, it feels like we have been talking entirely too much. This is because I can not say what I want to say. But, I am also not sure what it is I want.

A couple of posts back, I wrote that I don't know what I am doing with this guy. And I don't. So, I can't describe what we 'are.' Because I have no clue. We sleep together. We hang out like once a week or week and a half. I go to his place and spend the night usually. Recently he came and spent some time with a friend and I, and we came back to my place. This is where most of the recent talk took place ... in my room. It was painful. So, I was glad to be on my territory. Not because I wanted to have power over the situation. Because, I did not. But, because I am so terribly nervous and uncomfortable talking about relationships and feelings. It's really hard for me.

But, I did it. Sort of. I can't even begin to go into what I said. Just imagine someone wanting something/someone and having no idea how to say it. That's what it was like. I avoided eye contact, as much as possible. I fidgeted. I said "never mind" a lot. And, at my highest point, I said "I'm going to save you. You don't have to respond." As if to say, "I know you really don't want to have this conversation, so don't feel obligated to have it." I assumed he didn't want to be talking about what we are, so I thought I would save him and attempt to dig out of the conversation I thought I wanted to have. Instead, I am fairly sure I offended him. He got off of my bed and stood in my room for the rest of the conversation.

It started out with him talking about future time we would spend together. He very clearly expected us to hang out again. He was talking about things we would do to make our time together better, new ways of opening up communication and improving upon our sex. It all seemed fair enough, but the trouble was, it conflicted with something I had already sorted out in my mind: that we weren't going to talk about the future, that the future was non-existent with us. Because, we were just going day-by-day. We have no sort of commitment to each other. We have not agreed to stop seeing other people. We are not really anything.

(All) that having been said, I have feelings for him.  They are unique, because every relationship between two people is unique from the next. I have friends that I have slept with that I would not call 'lovers.' I have men that I sleep with that I would not call 'friends.' I have people that I have seen romantically that I never clicked with and just stopped talking to. And then, I have him.

The other situations are easy to navigate, because they are pretty clear pretty early on. The situation with him is frustrating, because I know we both like each other. I know we are both clicking. I know that there is a deeper connection. But, I still don't know what that means to him. We started to talk about 'us' twice now, and he said the same thing... The first time he said "Let's see where this goes." That was fine with me, because I was definitely not looking to call anyone boyfriend. Nor, was I ready to figure out how I would stop talking to the other men in my life. Being exclusive was a scary thought.

The second time we broached the subject, he said he doesn't "rush into anything." That is also fair enough. However, we have been sleeping together for almost two months. And, I have no idea of how to tell if a guy is seriously saying "let's see where it goes" or if he is saying "this is never going to happen with us, but I really like sleeping with you and being in your company for now." The other situations didn't require me to navigate this subject. To be honest, this situation was not requiring me to navigate this situation either. But, my feelings were pushing me to figure out what was going on.

The question, that had earlier plagued my thought process, of how I would disconnect from my other lovers was no longer an issue. It had just happened. I still talk to The Stranger, but he is not a lover. I would like for him to be a lover one day, but that has no impact on my real, tangible situation. I have not been dating or seeing anyone else. I don't know when it happened... I went on a few dates with other guys in the beginning. But, I haven't dated or slept with anyone but him in about a month.

So, this is what it is. I have feelings for him. He has proven to be worth dropping all the others. The feelings I have grow every time we are together. When something good happens, I want to text him and share it with him. I want to support him through the stress he is currently going through. I want him to support me through mine. I want a partnership with him. And, I am fairly sure that in two months, and two months from that, he will still be 'seeing where it goes.' I, however, (think I) can see where it's going. In the end, I will be hurt. So, I made the decision that night in my room, that I would rather not be hurt. And, I launched a preemptive strike and told him I cannot see/sleep with him anymore. When you are sitting seconds away from rejection, seconds away from pain, it's just easier to bow out. That's what I did. I told him that we could talk about it more later. But, that was just lip service. Pain at the hands of a man is something that I have not experienced in many many MANY moons. I don't plan on starting back up now.

I probably made a mistake that night. But, fear has a way of making folks do that.


Thursday, August 4, 2011

Fairy Tales

So, I am watching this show about romance. It's supposed to be a romantic comedy, but it's actually just awful.  She's a Chinese American with sweat shop parents and a drug addict brother. But, she's different. She went to a good school and she has a good career. One night, she's at a mixer with a bunch of wealthy people. Then, of course, she meets a nice rich man. He doesn't know she's from a poor family. He mistakes her for a rich Chinese woman and he falls for her, because his mistake led him to give her a chance.

Okay, this is the same fairy tale story we have gotten forever, right? The rich man mistakes the poor girl for a wealthy one, falls in love, finds out who she really is, doesn't care and they live happily ever after. That's fine. It's whatever. My issue is not with the fucked up social aspects or the hypocrisy of it all. I am not going to talk about the unpalatable nature of the Cinderella story, or the fact that she actually mentions that she was named after a Chinese Cinderella.

I don't have a problem with any of that. At least, not today. Today, my issue is with the kiss. There was tongue. The kiss in this movie was the only thing believable. She pulled at the back of his hair. He grabbed her head. I was surprised. And it definitely removed me from the fairy tale setting the movie worked so hard to create.

They worked, as in all fairy tales, to keep her innocent. They worked to keep the whole relationship innocent. 'Innocent' being free and devoid of sex. But that kiss... that kiss just threw it all off for me. They had passion. And at that moment, I relived all of my passionate kisses. I could feel the lips of past lovers... or kissers. And, I remember the physical things that happen to me when I am kissed passionately.

When I am kissed passionately, my whole body heats. My face gets flush and I get a little light headed. My muscles tighten, then soften. A gravity comes over me that pulls my whole body toward my kisser. My breath speeds up and my heart races. Along with everything else heating up, my legs fall in line. Then, while our mouths are intertwined and wet with saliva, I become wet ... elsewhere. And, sex floods my mind.

Wait a second. Hold up ... Did Cinderella get wet when Prince Charming kissed her? Was she thinking about sex? Did Prince Charming put his tongue in her mouth? And if so, how did they keep sex out of the equation? It's all been good in theory. I mean, it's all a fucking lie. But, the last thing I had even dreamed was that Cinderella was wet and writhing for her Prince. I guess I knew all along that it was a sham, but her vagina?

How dare they lie to me about Cinderella's vagina? This is why I always felt so 'over-sexed' when I got wet from my very first kiss on. I felt like my sexual urges were in direct conflict with my 'innocence.' Oh well, I was fooled. I suppose if I had thought longer and harder about it, I would have realized that Prince Charming had a serious foot fetish. And, as soon as he found his Cinderella and got up close to that foot, he swept her up, married her and got to that wedding night. He probably had his hand up her dress as they were waving at us and riding off in the carriage.

An Ignorance Chosen

I have been sleeping with/I don't really know what-ing the same guy for roughly a month and a half. I don't really know what to call any of it. I can't say dating, because we don't really date. We lay on his couch and watch movies, we eat dinners that he cooks, we have amazing sex and we smoke cigarettes. I can't say we are seeing each other, because that term feels far too serious. So, for now, I will just say we are 'sleeping together.'

I know it's sad to say, but this is kind of a three year record for me. I haven't consistently slept with anyone this long. And, get ready for this ... I have, sort of, only been having sex with him. I know, I said "sort of." There was this one thing. But, it was a few weeks ago. And, it was only one night. And, I am not sure that it really counts. Anyway, none of this matters. Now, to the point.

I was at said guys house one evening. We had just had another evening of movies, we had run out of cigarettes and we were, in all likelihood, looking forward to some really beautiful sex. When I say beautiful, I mean it. It's really amazing. If you don't remember, he's this guy. So, as I said, we had run out of cigarettes. Well, he had. I don't really smoke unless I'm with him, so I don't really buy. He was going to run to the store to buy some cigarettes. I wanted to shower, so I asked if it was okay if I showered while he ran to the store. He said no. He didn't leave people in his house. I jokingly asked if he didn't trust me with his stuff, and he clarified that he trusted me, he just didn't leave people alone in his home.

I really had no problem with this. It was no issue at all. I ended up showering and he ended up skipping the trip to the store altogether. None of it really mattered. But, it did make me think. While I showered, my brain wondered what harm he could possibly see in me staying in his home alone. The only thing I could really come up with was the rummage factor. I was fairly sure he wasn't worried about me stealing his things. So, he must have been worried that I would look through and/or at his things.

Fair enough. I can respect that. I do have some things that remain sacred to me: old journals, my vibrator.  However, the thought of rummaging through someone else's things is repulsive to me. It actually gives me a bad feeling in my stomach. While I washed my parts, I wondered why the mere thought of snooping through someone's things made me so uneasy. Then, it came to me. I have played detective.

When my ex cheated on me, I went through his things. I went through his phone. I went through his apartment. And, after it was all said and done, I swore that I would never do that again. I didn't even have to swear it. It was just such an awful feeling, it stuck with me over the years. Whether it's growth or PTSD, I don't care.

I don't care what a man is hiding from me. Especially not this man. He is free to do as he chooses. I would rather not know about it, but he's free to do it. And that is the whole point. I would rather not know. I don't want to know the secrets. I don't ask about them, because I don't want to know. People are allowed their secrets with me. I don't want to know all of the details of my family member's personal lives. I am here if they need an ear, but I don't want to know what they don't want known. People keep things from each other. We all do it. It's not my job or my want to snoop around like Sherlock Holmes, trying to uncover the things that don't want to be uncovered. Thanks, but no thanks.

Part of me thinks this is why I don't have a relationship. But the fact is, even when I do have one, I won't be doing that shit. If I feel like I should leave, I'll leave. If something feels really wrong, it usually is. I don't need to find a pair of panties or a used condom. Actually, funny story, I did find a condom at his house. Didn't really find it, wasn't looking, I just stumbled upon it. And I asked NO questions. Because, I didn't want to know. I don't care where it came from. I'm just glad that we use them and if he is sleeping with other people, I am glad he's using them with the others, as well.

So, the bottom line is, I am choosing ignorance in areas that ignorance is safe. Yes, we are having sex. But, as long as we are wrapping it up, I don't have to know what he is doing with others. I certainly don't want to uncover his secrets. It's my job to police me, not the rest of the world. I just have to worry about my actions. And, it's hard enough for me to get to know people on the surface. I only need to know the things my partners tell me about themselves. The last thing I am going to do is attempt to unlock them any more quickly than they are unlocking themselves. Nothing good can ever come of forcing people to let you in faster than they want to let you in. I'm okay out here for now. What I don't know, will not hurt me out here. 

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Cheating On Me

We've all had boring sex. This isn't something that only some people go through. If you are over the age of 19, sexually active and have been sexually active for longer than a year, you have had sex that bored you. We are all familiar with this subject, especially those of us that have been in monogamous relationships.

This isn't always a sign of a bad partner. Sometimes it just means one or the other of you wasn't totally into it. In relationships, this happens from time to time. People have real lives. Sometimes you are sidetracked by something that happened at work. A certain time in my cycle leaves me less than aroused. So, there are those times when one person wants it and the other person takes one for the team. And, then there are just boring lovers. It happens. 

What does not happen, what should not happen is boring masturbation. But, it did. It happened. I would like to put the blame on someone else, but ... I was the only person there. Here's the issue. I have been having great sex. I've been sleeping with a man that is just about 8 years older than me and he falls right into, what I have deemed, that perfect sex age. People talk about how young guys get harder (I find this to be a unicorn tale) and can get hard immediately after coming (I find this to be unappealing.) Once you have been with a man over 30 (especially those over 35), you realize that most men in their early 20s just haven't had the years. So, the idea of a man getting hard 10 times a night and never once bringing me to climax seems akin to sitting at the DMV while someone loofahs my vagina. Yeah, it's the best I could do. Anyway, it seems very unappealing. I don't need you to keep getting hard over and over again if you are just using me as a pin cushion. I'd just as soon you come in 5 minutes and call it a night. 

Experience has the potential to make a man a better lover. However, there will always be older men that couldn't be concerned less with pleasing a woman. And there will always be younger men that are ahead of their time. But, this isn't a post to debate if older men or younger men are better in bed. This is a post about how the man I am currently sleeping with is such an amazing lover he's got my full attention. He has made other lovers far less appealing. Unfortunately, one of those lovers that has lost their luster is me. Somehow, this man has (momentarily) fulfilled me to the point where I'm bored with masturbation. 

The trouble is, I have built this relationship with myself. I give it up to me nightly. And if I don't, I feel like I'm losing touch with me, so to speak. I have sworn allegiance to masturbation. I have written, on many occasions, that I need to masturbate regardless of whether I am having routine sex with a (or many) partner(s). Sex and masturbation are two different things and have always had two very different roles in my life. 

So, you can imagine my confusion when I slide my hand into my panties and close my eyes tight to imagine whatever my "heart" desires, and all that comes to mind are replays of past evenings. This can be great. It's like being able to close your eyes and have a full interactive show. A show that is always in the cue and ready to play. Unfortunately, I slide my fingers (or my toy) into myself, only to suffer disappointment. It's not a lover. It's not him. It's just me again. This must be how it feels to have an affair. To be hyper turned on by something new, only to return to the same person day-in and day-out. 

You might think I am thrilled with this new lover. Someone that can fulfill me to the point where masturbation loses it's necessity sounds wonderful, right? Wrong. Because, when this guy is gone, I am going to be the one left picking up the pieces in my failed relationship with me. I am the one that is going to have to explain to myself that it was a momentary distraction and I really do enjoy making love to me far more than some man. I just needed a change, some variety. I only hope, when that day comes, I can forgive me.

In the meantime, I go through the motions, getting just wet enough and pushing just far enough to ease into a willing orgasm, tuck my toy away and fall asleep. Masturbation used to be one of the hottest parts of my sexual life. It used to be something I looked forward to. I would sit in lectures and dream about going back home for a long midday session. Lately, it's just not what it used to be. Like all other things, I am sure this is a phase and, soon, I will be back to my daydreams about self-love. For now, I am going to drift back into daydreams about last night. More to come on that ...

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Don't Pose

I could feel the grain of the wood under my nails. I was trying my hardest not to dig in and create gouges, driving splinters into my nail beds. I'm nothing if not respectful. If I leave a mark, it will be left on his body, maybe his sheets, but never his furniture. The restraint was not so overwhelming as to drown out the sensation of my hips spreading with every backward push. I could feel the stretch through my lower back and down the insides of my thighs. The pain was subtle and good.

I was poised, back arched, looking back to see what he could and could not see. I looked back, stretched my arms long and arched my back more, so I could see over my own ass. My left leg and arms were perfectly straight, right leg was bent up, with my foot propped on the same wood rail that my nails fought not to devour.  He brought his mouth close to my body and I twisted my spine more to raise my right breast to his lips. I twisted my right arm around the back of my body and shifted my ass up to give him a straighter shot in. Then, I looked into his eyes and, with a smile, he said said the words, "Don't pose." I could feel the shocks being absorbed by my spine and then ... nothing. The hands that had gripped my waist and hips were gone. I turned to see him standing two feet back, fighting what would inevitably come, putting off the final burst of pleasure, in order to stay in the moment. But, the moment was gone.

I had been working to see, working to feel. I wanted to feel him pushing deep inside. I wanted to feel his mouth on me and I wanted to see his arms as he gripped tighter. I hadn't been trying to pose. But, in a flash, my want for him had pushed his want for me to a place that neither of us could take. He pulled away from me and I shot up straight. I wasn't expecting his absence. So, there we stood, breath heavy and bodies tight, almost ready to strike.

"Lay down." His words were not a request. So, I slid over the wood rail and met the bed with my back, continuing to slide up the bed as he climbed on top of me. He didn't enter me immediately. He brought his mouth to me and slid his fingers inside me. He started by kissing me, but then his motions grew more nondescript. I could no longer distinguish his actions, only my sensation. His mouth was firm against me and his fingers were deep inside me. The sensations were all running together and, in order to not pull back, I had to release my thoughts and just feel.

Pain. It wasn't constant. It drifted in and out. Most of the pain was inside me. And it wasn't a pain that brought about thoughts of an inexperienced fumbling partner, knuckle deep, trying to feel his way around me. It was direct and deliberate. Every sensation was calculated. I drifted even further out of mind, sinking into my body. My hands made their way to the back of his head and pushed his face into me, as my pelvis pushed against him.

There was an impulse to push away from the pain, but my body was not connecting with my brain. So, as my body pushed harder into him, he pushed harder into me and the pain started to melt into pleasure, the lines becoming blurred and melting along with my thoughts and inhibitions. Slowly, the pain invited pleasure and I sunk into the pain, into the pleasure, into my orgasm.

My brain switched back on and words washed over my mind, devoid of structure. The word "complete" lingered just as the orgasm had. His mouth flooded my body with pleasure just as my body flooded his mouth. There were small bursts, each pushing me to higher levels of pleasure. I did not pull away. I waited for that moment when the orgasm would become too intense, and while I waited, time elapsed and the word "pure" drifted to mind. The sensation was just that, it was both complete and pure. My body relaxed and the feeling that began as pain became the purest pleasure I had ever felt.

I was radiating from head to toe as I pulled at his shoulders. He received the message and slid up my body. He pushed himself deep inside me and the orgasm shifted, but didn't stop. I was full of him and could feel my muscles contracting hard against him. I pulled at his lower back as if begging him to push harder. At this point, my body was begging his to come with me. I tightened against him as he fulfilled another wish. I felt him harden inside me as he came. Over the next few minutes, we finished together. I can't quite recall those last few moments. It's almost as if it were a private moment between our bodies, to which memory is not privy. His lips met mine to soften the blow of my body losing his and he pulled out of me.

When I told him it was the best and longest orgasm I had ever had, he laughed a "really?" and kissed my forehead in a way that suggested I had made this claim to others before. If I had, it was true at that time. But those earlier claims were no longer true. As his lips touched my cheek, I realized this couldn't be the last time I felt him and I smiled, as one more word entered my mind ... "More."

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Memor(s)exed

Recently, James sent me a clip of me giving him head. He had shot it a few months back, on the ill-fated night of heavy drinking. The trouble with that evening wasn't the video. If you don't remember that evening, you should read this.  Yeah. Well, one other thing I didn't remember about that night was that James and I had made a mini-sextape of me fellating him. I was surprised when he told me about it and sent the clip over. I wasn't surprised that we made it, I was just surprised that I didn't recall making it. He was shocked that I didn't remember, as well. At any rate, I was happy to find out that there was a small piece of memorabilia from that hilarious, cloudy evening. I was excited to see what he and his iPhone had captured of our lovemaking that evening, but disappointed when I opened the clip and found little more than a soundtrack of his pleasure. The video was dark and shaky, but from the sounds of it, I was killing it. I'm pretty sure James owes me dinner for that one. At the end of the 30 second clip, the camera steadies a bit and the shot lightens. And, there I am, dick in mouth. I caught a 2 second glimpse of the spit glistening on my lips and on him. Then, the image froze and I was left to wonder.

Since getting that video, I have been wanting to video more sex acts. I imagine my reasons are similar to those of most people that want to do it. I want to see myself. I want to see what I look like, I want to look at my partner. I want to hear the sounds we make. Part of it is pure vanity. I am quite positive that this vanity will bite me in the ass when it comes time to watch. Everything that feels so hot and steamy probably looks a bit messy when not engaged in the act. But, nonetheless, I want to see.

Another reason the urge to video the act is so great is that I am currently having sex roughly once or twice a week. This is great. I don't mind this, at all. However, there are 7 days in a week. And, I have been thinking a lot about those 1 or 2 days on the remaining 5 or 6. It would be nice to have something to reference back to when I'm handling up on those lonely nights. The idea of being able to create an ideal scene, in which I am the leading lady, is a little more than exciting to me. For once, I don't have to pretend that the coked-up white chick is me and the tattooed 'pool guy' is my lover. Well, I might keep the tattooed pool guy.  But, alas, I can avoid those dumbass plots. Who wants their sex to have a plot, anyway?

So, I want to make a sex tape. But, I'm not talking about any of this grainy, Paris Hilton, night-vision bullshit. I'm a photographer. So, you better believe I am showing up with camera equipment, lighting equipment and a tripod. It's going to be done right. I'm shooting this one in RAW (pun-intended) and editing it down in FinalCutPro.  Part of me wants to make a series with all of my lovers. But, somehow, I think a spotlight and video release form might kill the mood, occasionally.

Unfortunately, I am not quite sure who would play opposite me. I hadn't thought that far into it. I have videoed so many solo missions I had to buy an extra hard-drive to store all the masturbation. And, that just doesn't really do anything for me. The idea of masturbating to myself masturbating creates a mental wormhole of narcissism that leaves me Serengeti dry. So, I guess until the world rights itself and I find my way to The Stranger, this one will remain an unrequited fantasy. Maybe it's for the best. Who knows, possessing such a video might be the last straw, throwing me into a downward spiral of masturbatory hermitage.  ... Doubtful, but anything is possible.

So, until my porno prince charming comes along, I will just keep streaming my temporary lovers through my slow internet. And, Pornhub will keep my loyal business. Woe is me.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

One Year

A full year has passed since my first post. It was an introduction of characters. And upon looking back, I was surprised to see how many of the 'characters' still remain in my life. So, in honor of the one year anniversary of My Life As A Serial Dater, I have decided to give a recap of the year, with a small look at the future. I'll start with Train Guy. Where else would I start? He was the person and a train was the location where it all started. I'll list person, position, present and future/fantasy. Here goes!

Train Guy: 

  • The Positions - My ass on a counter in a train changing room. He was standing in front of me, on his knees giving me head to start. Then, we had sex with my back pressed against the mirror, hips slid forward to the front of the counter. Afterwards, he picked me up and moved me to the sink because it was oddly high. This is where he went down on me again. He came from Dallas to Houston to visit me once last summer. We had sex all over his hotel room. He picked me up, I rode him and he hit it from behind standing. I really found my orgasm with him. He was great in bed. I still stand behind the fact that he was the best yet. 
  • The Present - He still calls and texts. He says he wants to be with me. He's said that for the entire year. I tell him I'm not in a place to be with anyone. But, I never fully cut it off. Part of me really cares about him. I think it's my vagina. 
  • The Future/Fantasy - I want to see him again. I think I will. Ideally we will have sex for days, until I'm sore. It's best with him on top. He's got all his power in that position and he's very strong. He's in his late 30s, early 40s and he's perfected his movement. We are a good fit, physically. But, I would never be with him. 
  • The Positions - Lewis and I had polite sex. We were always destined to be friends. The sex was fun, but we were never overridden with passion. 
  • The Present - We're good friends. Nothing more. There will never be anything romantic or sexual between us again. 
  • The Future/NO Fantasies - We will be friends forever. Nothing more. He's like a Ken Doll to me, now ... smooth down there. 
  • The Positions - Yes! There weren't many. I gave him head while sitting on his couch, as he stood in front of me. I love giving this man head. Love it. He has the best dick. I don't know what it is. His body is amazing. He's tall and strong. We had sex a few times: missionary, doggie style. But, the head. I love kissing his body and feeling him in the back of my throat. I've said head way too many times. But let it be known. I love having this man in my mouth. 
  • The Present - Lately, it's been hard to get him off my mind. I've been thinking about him a lot. We had a little moment of disagreement (sort of). Then, we didn't speak for a few months. But, he hit me up when I got back to town and I am sure I will see him again soon. 
  • The Future/Fantasy - I texted him last weekend that I needed to see him soon. I do. I want to be on my knees in his bedroom. I want to feel his body. This is one man that I like being intimate with. But it's all false. I can kiss his body and touch him and get lost in the moment with him inside me. And the reality of it is, there is nothing there. Nothing at all. I have no idea what he's thinking and I never will. But I know how he feels ... and I guess that's really all that matters with us. But, I do love the farce that we have created. 
  • The Positions - He had a gigantic penis. I think he might have the biggest penis in the world. And his body was unbelievable. We had sex once. And we had sex all night. We did it every way we could. Honestly, I remember that it was pretty good. But, I don't remember much else. It wasn't great. I had been drinking a little, but not a lot. But, I hit some weed with him, so that night was lost to the goodness of the herb. I do know that weed makes me wet and I definitely get more randy (I hate the word horny)... So, I am sure it was great. But, I don't remember. 
  • The Present - There isn't one. This is one of the few men that I never talk to. Never really talked to him after that night. Not sure why, but I never really cared why. But that dick. Man. HUGE!
  • The Future/Fantasy - The future probably looks a lot like the present. I won't talk to him. If I run into him, I will say hello. If he were to text or call, I might even agree to see him. But, I wouldn't contact him and I don't expect to ever see him again. But that dick, though. Yeah ... Big. I may let his penis (and him) make a cameo in tonight's self-love session fantasy. 
  • The Positi ... You know what .. No. I don't even want to talk about Todd. The sex was weird. The communication was weird. I hate to say it, but if he reads this blog, that's weird too. So, I'll just say it. Todd was too weird for me to wrap my brain around. I liked him, but he made me feel like shit. So, fuck Todd. Next!
  • The Positions - We did all kinds of things. He's probably the second best behind Train Guy. They actually remind me a lot of each other. They are both athletes. Simple men. Sweet and very well built. Strong guys with similar builds. But, the thing that stood out most about The Player was he was great with his hands. Like oddly great with his hands. When he had his fingers inside me, I'm not sure what he was doing, but it was one of the best things I've ever felt. His head was amazing too. And, in my belief, if you aren't using your hands, you are only half-way giving me head. He taught me what good head was. And he taught me that fingering isn't just for high school! Bless him. 
  • The Present & The Future - I can just combine these two. He has a girlfriend now and I congratulated him on that and don't expect to talk to him again. I wish him the best. I would have never wanted to be with him. Pretty sure the last time we had sex he tried to impregnate me. I took the morning after pill. He also might have injured me. But it was all done in the act of sex, so no harm, no foul. That was over 6 months ago. I've had all my STD tests and I'm clean as a whistle. I wish him the best and I hope, for the sake of my body, he stays in his relationship, stays happy and away from me. 
Just click the hyperlink above. He hated that I wrote about him, so I won't write more. But, it was fantastic. Just read what I already wrote. He's amazing. Sorry, sir. I won't write any more. You were great in bed, though... really. Great lay, with all due respect, of course. 

  • The Positions - This guy was so hard to get into the sack. I mean, not really. We started out just chilling in my bed. But, it always seemed like he was saving himself. I mean, we always had sex, but it just took more. He was a tease. That's the word. Or is it? He played hard to get. That's it. This one liked to play hard to get. As far as the sex goes, I liked him. I liked him a lot. It was like making love. I've always had a really good feeling about him. If he didn't live in New England, we'd still see each other occasionally. He's good people. The sex was good, because there was a lot of feeling. 
  • The Present - We tweet each other. He lives far away and I still love him with all my heart. So, I tweet him. That's all 'all my heart' has to give someone that lives across the country. 
  • The Future - I hope he visits me one day, so I can hug him for hours. He's really that sweet y'all. You would all love him. He's great. 
  • The Position - Missionary and with me on my stomach, legs together. We knew exactly how to make each other come. Our sex, was overall the best I have ever had. It was mutual though. I know I said Train Guy was the best, and he was if you take sex and suck out all the passion and emotion. If you are just animals that are pleasing each other, then Train Guy wins. But, If you overload it with emotion and passion, talking and kissing, then no one has ever come close to Marlon. He was the best. We were the best together.
  • There is no present or future with Marlon. Because, as soon as I moved away from New England, that fucker (that said we would always talk) stopped returning my texts. This dude uses the powers of his dick for evil. I hate Marlon because he's like me. That charming magic dick having ... Ugh. From the moment he was inside me, my vagina felt like it was on fire ... in a good way. It's hard to explain. He was brilliant and he had the best dick. It was so thick and wonderful, I actually thought I was in love with him. For the months that I knew Marlon, I thought I was in love with him. I really did. Having him inside me and his lips on mine was one of the greatest things I have ever felt. So, yeah, fuck Marlon. He's like a magic-dick-spell casting witch. I hope he reads this. I might email him the link to make sure. Fucking beautiful, wonderful asshole. I haven't thought about him in months and I wish I had just glossed over him. I hate angry masturbation. 
  • The Positions - We did it on the dresser. He picked me up. We did it doggie style. We did it missionary. We did it with me on my stomach and my legs together. We did it all kinds of ways. It was a lot like having sex with your boyfriend. Well, not your boyfriend. But a boyfriend. We talked a lot and the sex was fine. It was just fine. 
  • The Present - We're friends. Not much to say about it. He was cool. Still is. We're friends. 
  • The Future - We'll fade. We aren't real friends. We are just friends until one of us meets someone else. We text occasionally, but as soon as it fades, neither of us will really care. It was fun tho. He's sweet. 
  • The Positions - Drunk. And awesome. James is a man that I am beyond comfortable with. I got drunk with James. Like really drunk. I've cried to him. I let him video me giving him head. That's love. I can say this with all truth in the world. I love James. I talk to him daily. He's one of my best friends. I don't even know how it happened. I adore this man. That's our present, our past and our future. He is just a great person. The sweetest man on Earth.  He's just a good man. And the sex was great. Always fun and playful, while managing to still be hot. And he has the prettiest penis I have ever seen. It's just really beautiful. It's big and it gets really hard. It's just great. Everything about this man is great. I want to buy a ticket to go see him right now. He's one of the best men I know. Did I say he's great? He is. 
  • The Positions - Well, there haven't been any. Not in real life. He and I have still never had sex. I talk to this man every day. He's perfect for me. He's everything I want in a man. But, he still lives in New England. And I have no plans to move back up there. We Skype, text and talk all the time. It's like a fantasy that will always be there, until it's not. It's the closest I can get to any real emotional commitment and that tells me something. The man I choose to fall for lives over a thousand miles away. And, we'll probably never touch each other. But, I have a weak place in my soul for this man. If he asked me to fly up, marry him and have his kids, I would probably do it. Even though it's an awful idea. We've never had sex, but I have no doubt that it would be great. I don't know what it is. Since I first laid eyes on him, I have called him my dream man. He sent me a text tonight that said "I love you." I don't know if he was joking. He says he wasn't. But, it hit me hard. It made me sad, because I want to love him. I don't know him well enough. But, when he talks about his job, about his friends, about fishing, about anything, he just seems so kind and wonderful. I wish with every part of myself that he was here or I was there. That's the fantasy of it. I can think he is perfect, I guess. It feels more real than that, but when I think about it logically, I guess it's just me loving in a dream, because that's easier than loving in reality. 
I don't know what to tell you guys. My dream man is a farce. My intimacy is made up and I am no closer to a relationship or settling down now than I was a year ago. But, I'm okay with that. That's not what this was about. This was a journey I was taking with myself and it's been fantastic. I am glad you guys came with me. This was so much less lonely than it could have been. And sharing the ins-and-outs (so to speak) of my sexual experiences was all the intimacy I need right now. I love you all. And, most importantly, I love myself. Through all of my mistakes, all of the rejection I have felt over the past year, I have been given the allowance to be human. I am allowed to make those mistakes and own them and keep moving. 

We are all just trying to make it. I say, do more. Enjoy life. Don't just make it through. Embrace it and embrace all the aspects of yourself. For me, this past year has been about embracing a part of myself that I had always been made to feel ashamed about. I used to think that my sexuality made me different and unhealthy, but through sharing my stories, I realize one important thing ... I am just like most of you all, and ... Y'all are some freaks. Embrace it, people. We all love sex. It's just good stuff. So, I raise my glass to another year of exploration, safety, love and acceptance. Thank you all so very much. Happy reading. 

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

The Weekend

This weekend was a mix of all things good. My Friday started the weekend off right. I had an early coffee date. It was simple, good conversation and nothing compared to my Saturday night. Saturday was a mess. No date. I went out with some girlfriends. And, somehow, on a night that was meant to console a heartbroken friend, the 7 of us managed to pull off something just short of the movie The Hangover, that should have been coupled with a soundtrack by T-Pain. Yeah, the evening was fully equipped with stripper AND bartender love. I didn't have any sort of rendezvous, but I still ended the evening with champagne soaked panties. Hold on folks, here's the tale of my weekend.

I'll begin with Friday night. There's not much to tell there. The dating has been kind of slow, because I am kind of digging one guy. But, he and I just started hanging out. While I have made no sort of agreements with anyone, there's a natural feeling inside me that doesn't really want to see anyone else, at the moment. But, I had already made plans to have coffee with this other guy, so I went. We met at 6, because he was on-call that evening and I was planning to spend a night with my best friend. He was smart. He liked challenging me on my views, which I don't mind. There was some innocent flirting. We were at a coffee shop, on a couch, so our arms touched a bit, but there was no overt contact. This was fine with me. The guy was nice enough. I would even consider hanging out with him again. But, there wasn't a strong sexual or flirtatious charge. I flirted, because I am flirtatious in nature, but in the back of my mind, I wanted to be in bed with my current crush. We decided to head out around 8:30ish and I headed over to (my best friend) Lynn's place.

Lynn and I simply did what we normally do. We sat and talked about politics, women's issues, race relations, child's rights and the state of the world until we passed out from shear mental exhaustion. This is how we spend most of our evenings together. When I say I need some time with her, people don't really get a full grasp of what it is I need. I need to talk. I need to talk about things until they can't be talked about anymore. I can't really do that with anyone but her. That's what we normally do. However ... On Saturday, it was a different story.

Saturday morning, we went and got our eyebrows done and bought Lynn a dress for the evening. We went with a super fantastic little red number. The goal of the evening was to cheer up our heartbroken friend. And, our heartbroken friend had asked that we all dress like ladies of the evening. So, we went back to the house and I slipped into a low-cut colorful dress. Then, we painted Lynn's red dress onto her.

We are going to call the heartbroken girl Patty. Patty showed up in a cute purple dress that showed off her cute figure. We were set. We got to the first bar and our other friends started arriving. We looked like the United Nations in heels. Our friends are a diverse group. No matter what a man likes, we have it covered. And, we are all smart women. So, we set out to have a good time. And, being the women we are, we made sure that happened.

There was little talk of the heart break. Patty had decided she didn't want to discuss it, so we didn't. Instead, we got tanked and went to a gay bar to watch male strippers. This is where the story got good. I'll go ahead and say that after this, nothing big happened. A sober friend drove us to a couple more bars and Lynn kissed a bartender and I just danced and talked to friends. That was that. This story is not about me. This is the love story of Patty and The Stripper.

So, apparently not all male strippers at gay bars are gay. Some are straight. So, a friend and I bought Patty a lap dance from the man of her liking. I slipped him the money and pointed her out and he acted funny about it. He acted like he didn't want to dance for her. He asked if it was going to be okay with her and I reassured him that she needed it. So, he made his way over. He danced up on her for a minute or so, then he turned to me and with a pained look, he tugged at his lil draws and mouthed the words "I have to put on more clothes." Oh. Okay. As he turned to leave, his profile revealed a little underwear tent. Apparently he had enjoyed the dance as much as, if not more than, Patty.

When he returned, he had a business card. He came around behind Patty and I and slipped the card into her hand. His name and number were written on the card. He whispered something to her and she whispered something back. And this is how Patty fell in love with a stripper. Later that night, I helped her formulate a text to him. It went something like "You gave me the lap dance earlier tonight. Here's my number." And, it worked. He texted her that night. Then, he texted her again the next day and they texted back and forth and ended up talking on the phone for hours.

Lynn and I were sure that this wouldn't be anything serious, but turns out they are going to have their first date this week. And, you guys will never guess where they are going. I can't make this stuff up guys ... He asked her to go to church with him. So, Patty and The (Straight Gay) Stripper are going to church. Think anything you want. Last week, Patty was pining away over her asshole fiance, but come Wednesday night, she'll be reading scripture with Mr. Washboard-Abs. Life works in funny ways.

Oh yeah, the champagne soaked panties. Well, that wasn't as interesting. Patty spilled a drink on the bar, and the champagne stream flowed perfectly onto my crossed legs and right to the promised land. So, most of the night, I walked around looking perfectly dry, but in actuality, I was champagne wet. The next day, Lynn and I donned our shades to our favorite diner and downed 12 glasses of water. It was a good weekend.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Advice

As I sit here with my best friend, reading sex and dating advice columns, one response keeps ringing loudly in my head ... "BULLSHIT!" What is with this blanket advice? Are we living in a world of Barbie and Ken, still? Do we really believe that some lonely person sitting in front of a computer somewhere far away really knows what ALL men and women are thinking, feeling and going through?

I know what you are thinking ... "Aren't you a lonely person sitting in front of a computer?" Yes. Yes I am. The difference is, I don't claim to know what is best for anyone. Not even me. I am merely sharing my journey of exploration. I don't claim to know the universal ways of dating. Anyone that does is a liar. And they are, most likely, trying to sell you something.

We live in a world of affirmations. Close your eyes long enough and tell yourself something long enough and it will become your truth. I say open your eyes. Look around. Take a good look at it. That's your truth. It's right there in front of you. Your truth is all around you. And the things you are being told will make you happy in the future, by someone that does not even know you ... Those things may very well be a lie for you. Don't follow someone else's truth in hopes that it will make your future look more like it "should."

I can't tell you what you should be doing. If you are single, then I guess you should be single right now. But, you can't will something into existence with your eyes closed. If you have a partner that is cheating, then maybe at this moment in your life, there isn't a right or a wrong. But you won't see any of it with your eyes closed in the fetal position looking for how things "should be." How they should be doesn't really matter. This is how they are. How do you make that look good? How do you enjoy the moment and enjoy your life?

I know we don't want to think about it, but you could die today. Do you really want to spend your life preparing for tomorrow? I don't mean to say that you shouldn't make smart decisions or be prepared for your future. Only that your entire life shouldn't be a struggle of trying to meet societal expectations and your life isn't a means to an end. And the only people that can help you answer questions about yourself are you and the people that actually know you. But, no one can tell you what you should and should not be doing. Or where you should or should not be in life.

We spend our lives preparing for the next step. Preparing for our glorious future. But, what about right now? How do you feel right now? If you feel good, feel it, sing, dance around. If you feel bad, feel that and listen to yourself. But do it with your eyes open. See yourself as you are and love that. But most importantly, don't listen to me or anyone else talk about the way things should be. Just live, love yourself for who you are and enjoy the moment every once in a while. Instead of trying to build a perfect future, realize that you are living in the perfect present.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Judgment and Rejection

Dating many men over the past year, I have frequently been faced with a plethora of good and bad qualities. Dating can be about having a good time. It can be about the funny circumstances, both positive and negative. But, it cannot be denied that a good part of dating is about judgment. Whether you are looking for one night of passion or a lifetime with a person, you are sizing them up and judging them.

We often think of judging someone as a very negative thing. But, when dating a person, you look at the details of their being. You look at all of the good and bad qualities and you make a decision on whether you want to spend a night with them, or build a future with them. You are opening yourself up to a person, whether it's just your body or your life, and it's important to make an educated assessment, or pass a judgment.

Having had a large dating pool over the past year, I have been on both ends of this judgment. It's not an easy place to be on either side. Especially, if you are concerned with the feelings of others. So, I have found myself in a constant battle of evaluation, not just of those that I am dating, but, of myself.

Dating, for me, has become equal parts rejecting and being rejected. You would think it would be easy enough. I am honest from the beginning and I openly say that I do not want a relationship. That should be that. But, somewhere along the way, I started realizing that it wasn't as easy as it sounds. I have never been completely shut off to the idea of a relationship. And, I have realized that a lot of men will say they are just looking for something casual or friendship, and then they change their mind. Or, they weren't being truthful in the beginning.

I, myself have developed feelings that I did not foresee. In most cases, I found it best to shift from romance to friendship, as I was in transition and not ready or able to settle into anything long-term. But, there were those cases when I was forced to reject someone, because I did not feel they would ever settle for friendship, or because I did not feel they were a healthy part of my life in any capacity. This is never easy to do.

I used to just stop responding altogether. I rationalized this as the most humane way. Make it quick and painless. Then, I realized, this method was only painless for me. So, I have started giving the person a reason. I never give a person a list of reasons why I feel we aren't a good pairing, just that I don't think we are. I usually just tell them what I am looking for at the moment: a friend, a partner, a good time. And then I tell them that I don't feel we are suited for what I am seeking. No one needs to hear a list of their faults. Occasionally, if the person was disrespectful or lied to me, I will tell them the specific reason. I feel that is my duty to whoever else comes along. Maybe if enough women tell him they don't cut for liars, he will change his ways. If not, I did my part. And I wash my hands of the whole thing.

But, in the end, this is how it all boils down. There is, in fact, someone for everyone. That someone for you is you. You may never find a match. It's a big world and that one person that can stand you might be in Switzerland. So, you have to be okay with whatever may come. I have rejected and been rejected ample times. Never once when I rejected a person did I think, "They are no good for anyone." I only thought, "They aren't good for me." So, when I've met someone I actually liked and then I don't hear from him again, I could start to think, "Damn, no one wants me" ... Oh yes, I have my moments ... But, instead I remember that this was just one person. We are all just individuals. Relationships can't be forced and they can't be waited on to validate one's entire life. Each experience has it's own value. So, when I start to get down over a loss on what seemed to be a good thing, I have to remember that there is a whole big life out there and this is just my dating life.

Monday, July 4, 2011

69

How have I not addressed the beauty that is mutual head? Have I really not spoken on this yet? Correct me if I'm wrong. I'm not going to go back and check. I have over 210 posts. And the impulse to write about this glorious act is so strong, I need to do it now.

So, I won't say what sparked this post. But, I will say I had a very comfortable experience recently that will not be shared with you knuckleheads. I'm done with empty sex and I am venturing into less-frequent and more meaningful sexual experiences. This is just my own personal journey. I'm not going to be one of those people that gets past a certain phase of life and looks down upon it. My year of sexual exploration was wonderful and is very much still a part of me. But, being with multiple partners simultaneously is not what I am doing these days.

My sexual exploration is still kicking and alive, but I am looking to explore with one person at a time and taking time to reflect in between partners. Some may think it's lame that I am slowing down and others may think that I should have been doing it all along. I say, sit down with your opinions. I do what works for me and I still encourage everyone to get to know what it is that works best for them. This takes exploration. It takes trial and error and it cannot be preached to you. I don't get to explore my sexuality and then tell you what you should do. That's not how this works. I only hope to encourage the knowledge of oneself.

That having been said, 69 is a beautiful thing. It's one of those things I can really only do in a perfectly comfortable situation, because it offers a very intimate and up-close view of my butthole. I was going to try to find a better way to say that, but it is what it is. It's upside down head and instead of looking up and seeing me squeezing my breasts, dude is going to open his eyes to have a bird's-eye-view of my ... well ... bird's eye.

Sorry, you read '69' and clicked the link because you thought it was going to be sexy. It is sexy, but in all things sexy, they start out feeling a little awkward. Part of the sexiness is the fact that you wouldn't do it with everyone. It's not a wave at an intersection, it's dual-oral sex. It's intimate in all ways possible. And it's wonderful.

There's nothing quite like doing it early in the morning. Right when you wake up. You are still all fresh from your morning or evening shower. In my case, I like to lay on my side, or be on top so I have the full range of motion of my neck. And, I always enjoy the ability to hover above or take a seat on the face of my lover.

It's great for a myriad of reasons and like most things sexual, those reasons are hard to articulate. The intimacy and trust are both great things. Being able to clench your lover's thighs. The fact that the moans that come from receiving pleasure, while giving pleasure, actually serve to create more pleasure. I know, it's mind-blowing.

Personally, I have a thing for giving head. I don't placate people. I don't fake orgasms and I don't say I like shit because I think it might please a man. I like giving head. There is a very real feeling of the head of a penis sliding across my tongue and into the back of my throat. The grain of my taste-buds against the soft skin and hard musculature gets me wet every time. So, if I am being stimulated (aka getting head) at the same time, I can reach orgasm at record speeds and the odds are good I will get two in before he reaches his first.

Maybe this is a testament to my head giving abilities vs. theirs, but who cares. This is no contest and if it is, I still win. My pride is never bigger than my want to reach the promised land. You can take that to the bank. I'm not a selfish lover. I will give it my all. But, I am not mad that I can take just as well as I can give and I have yet to meet a man that was mad that he made me come 4 times before he came. It works for everyone.

So, what is my conclusion? Here it is. If I let you gaze upon my butthole, it means I trust you. Pleasure x pleasure = more intense pleasure. And, your penis in the back of my throat means a guaranteed orgasm for me. Who could ask for more? It's like infinite pleasure reciprocity. It's no wonder the sign for infinity and the sign for the dual head (69) are so visually similar. It's the circle of life people, this is the kind of stuff dreams are made of.

Also, is butthole one word or two? Butt hole ... or butthole? The mysteries of life never cease. 

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

The Commitment of "I'm Not Interested"

I have long been a commitment-phobe ... I admit it. The thought of committing to anything kind of turns my stomach and makes me a little light headed. That is why I have been going through so much transition anxiety with the move back to Houston. It's not so much the move as the idea that I am here ... for good. For the past four years, I have been on the move. I have been constantly going from one place to the next. Moving around this much has made it impossible to commit to a job or a man. I am now looking for a commitment to a workplace. And, I had my reasons for not committing to men. But, I didn't have to share those reasons. Because, I was always just on my way out.

Now, I am discovering a whole new form of commitment. I am discovering what it means to commit to a goodbye. When I left before, I could always say, "Hey, I'm heading out of town, but I will hit you up when I get back." That worked. I may or may not have hit them back when I got back to town. But, I always had the option. It was always left open. I know how this sounds. I'm a jerk. But, I am a recovering jerk. And so, for the first time in ... possibly forever, I committed to a good-bye.

"I think you are very nice, but we are not suited for each other. I don't want to date you. We can eventually be friends, but nothing more." As I said the words, I surprised myself. This man was no longer going to be on reserve. And not just because I had said the words, but because I am not doing that to people anymore.

I realized I have not been totally clear with people. And that is changing now. I am going to make it a point to be clear. Whether it's asking what a man is looking for upfront or sharing what I am looking for, I am communicating. It wasn't really necessary before. I was always in transition. I was never really looking for anything. There was a freedom that was beautiful. Sometimes it was a one-night-stand. Sometimes a friendship came out of it. But, other times, people were left confused and even hurt.

I am not 100% clear on what it is that I want. But I am getting settled into my new life and I am not the rambler I once was. I know what goes on in my mind from day-to-day and I think it is my duty to share that with anyone that spends an extended amount of time with me. Is this what growth feels like? Maybe it is. It definitely feels better and more responsible than just not answering texts and phone calls. When I say I'm not interested in games, I am really not interested in games. So, if someone chooses to stop talking to me after I tell them the truth, then that is their choice. But, it is a choice I will always make sure  to offer. 

Monday, June 27, 2011

The Evolution of the Modern American Male Dater

Or, the situation that poses the question ... Why am I not dating women?

Okay, I have to start this off with a confession. As you guys know, I have not been writing much lately. I have, however, still been dating a lot. I have to ask the forgiveness of my steady readers. I have not been sharing like I used to. But, I have been learning. And, I will be writing more frequently. Here's a little conclusion I have come to in my last few months of dating.

The modern American dating male goes through certain phases in life. Men are not non-commital by nature. It's actually quite the opposite. Men from birth to about 24 are the most romantic of all creatures. They are all looking for love. They believe it to be pure and wonderful. They all want that first real love. They all have that one girl that they love. The one that has never loved them in the past. They pine for her broodingly. They are moody and they are annoying at times. They look at every attractive woman as a possible love and they believe that once in their first relationship, it's a smart idea to just dive right in.

Once they have landed that one true love, they decide that moving in together is a brilliant idea. So, they take that leap. Usually too soon. They move in together. They think this will mean non-stop sex. Some times that is true. It also means non-stop talking, non-stop contact and non-stop sideways glances. Living with someone is not easy. It's about sharing bills, sharing chores and sharing a life ... not just about sharing a bed. This is not exactly what the male was looking for in his love nest. What happened to the days and days of endless sex? Sorry dating male, you and your love have to go to work. You have to feed yourselves and (hopefully) you still have friends you would like to see. Most likely, you want your love to give you space. And surprise, she's not always hot for you or wet and waiting. Not quite the fairy tale roommate you were looking for. Yes, real life can be an asshole that way.

So, things start to get less romantic. The Modern American Male Dater starts growing tired of answering to his love and the sex is even more infrequent now than when they first moved in. Either he or his love does something really stupid, or just grows tired of the other. And, they break up. This leads us to the dating male aged approximately 25 to approximately 34.

The 25 - 34 year old male is free. He's fallen in love. His dreams of romance have been shattered and he walks around with a 10 foot barrier around every part of his body, except his penis. He's still down to get down, but at the first mention of any sort of commitment (or second date), the male's relationship PTSD kicks in and the only thing to be seen is a cloud of dust. He's scared. He's too smart for that. The pendulum has swung from stupid, naive and overly romantic to the most non-commital of all the male creatures. He's not romantic at all. He was burned by his own haste. Now, his heart needs time. This male is trouble to the unsuspecting, commitment-seeking female. He's at his prime age to make babies. But he also, most likely, already has 1-3 kids with the love that burned him. And he's also probably going through child support issues when you meet him and have a lovely dinner and (what turns out to be) one night of passion. He might even rush you out in the morning so he can go pick up his kids.

Then, you have the 34 and up male. He's had his first love. He's had his kids. He's had his fun and he is just seeing where life takes him. He's not seeking a relationship, but he's not completely against one. The scars from that first relationship are fading and he is willing to take things slowly and see what comes of it. He's not overly romantic, but he's no longer terrified. If things have gone right, he knows how to treat a woman. He opens doors, knowing full and well that a woman can open her own door, but wanting to do  nice things for her. Again, if all things have gone well, he has a good job, his own place and a car. He's a catch. This is the most datable of the males. He's not going to stalk you or cry if you stop dating him and he's not going to sleep with you and never return a text again.

So, women, go forth. You now know what you are getting into. This is not to say that all males are like this. There are those that deviate from the pack in all groups. But, if you sleep with a 29 year old and never hear from him again, or sleep with a 23 year old and wonder why he's crying at your job when you get there in the morning ... He's been there all night and you were warned.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The Offended Ditch

I think it's really easy to focus on how we are treated. It's easy to say, "Hey, he/she treated me like shit. That's why we aren't together/friends." It is not easy to see the things we do to others. Self-reflection isn't fun. It doesn't help us rationalize our actions. It leaves us with little-to-no wiggle room within the excuses we create about why we aren't happy, aren't loved, aren't fulfilled, etc.

Sitting down and looking back upon the way I have treated people is about as appealing as putting a mirror in the toilet to watch myself shit. However, while I am going to continue to take a pass on the toilet mirror, I did decide to sit down and look at how I have treat people. Here goes. Get ready to hate me ... now.

In dating, I have people that I see as important and I have people that I, apparently, do not value. I know this is a shit way to act. I know, because I have felt it. As I sit here wondering why the man stopped answering my texts/calls, I know why. Because I have done it. I've talked to men and then just stopped. I have strung men along knowing I wasn't interested, with a hope that something might be sparked. I have kept talking to men because they are good in bed and I want to keep them on reserve.

I have joked with my best friend about a guy calling and spilling his heart after just one date. I have laughed that people fall too quickly. So, as I sit here wondering why this person fell off without so much as a "go fuck yourself," I know why. Because it's not worth it. Nor is it easy to do.

I tell everyone that I make clean breaks. I stop talking to men without warning or word, because it's easier to do. It's cleaner and it leaves little room for a person to think that there is a chance. I do it so that I don't lead anyone on. But, the fact is... I do it because it saves face. I don't have to be the bad guy. I don't have to explain anything. I don't have to apologize. I just have to pray I never see them again. And Once I have decided to stop answering or responding, I don't think about the person again. If they call or text a lot, I make comments like "What the hell, take a hint." And it's true to a certain point.

If something is new, explanation is not necessary. If I decide to stop talking to a person after one date, it's okay. I don't need to tell them that it was just my preference. Not true. Sometimes, it's more appropriate to explain. What it is not necessary to do it play the 'offended ditch' cared. The offended ditch is a phrase I coined. It is the act of playing offended in order to drop someone that you just weren't interested in.

I recently played this card. The fact is, I did feel like the man was dishonest with me. I felt like he had told me lies about his life in order to look more appealing. This was a big part of why I ditched him. But, instead of just saying, "Hey, I'm just not interested," I got mad that I felt like he had created this farce. So, I called him on it. Backed into a corner, he continued to lie and so I told him that it was offensive. It was true, but I didn't have to back him into a corner. But, what was I to do? Is it more appropriate to say I am just not interested? Or should I have been honest about the reasons I didn't want to be with him?

I wouldn't have wanted him whether he was honest or not. It wasn't really the lies that did it. They just sealed the deal. So, the ultimate question is, Does my opinion matter? Just because I don't like someone doesn't make them a bad person. Nor is it my job to socialize daters. I don't know the answer. I don't think it's always fair to drop someone without reason, but I do believe that it is sometimes the best option.

I suppose it's something that I have to figure out piece by piece. Some times there are situations when it's important to share my opinion and some times, it's best to just let it die. I do think from this point on, I will at least tell the person that I am not interested. If they ask why, I will carefully choose an answer. It won't always be totally honest. Because sometimes it's just about preference. And I am not here to make anyone self-concious about something that won't matter one lick to the next person. 

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Overwhelmed


Serial dating is not for the faint of heart. Dating is tough enough. But when you are dating at the volume that requires the title "Serial Dater," you can quickly become overwhelmed. I enter into every date ready to be entertained in one way or another. I have gotten to a point where I rarely (probably never) enter into a date with any sort of hope for a future with the person. 

I wonder if they will be nice. I wonder if they will be funny. I wonder if they will be completely insane. I wonder how long it will take for them to start making sexual advances and if the advances will be respectful. I wonder if, once the advances have been made, I will want them in the same way they want me. 

Once we've made it through the first date, there are only a few things that can happen. Either they like me more, I like them more or we both take it for what it was and move on.  Oh, I am forgetting the other possibility that we will both like each other the same amount, we will start dating and fall in love, then we live happily ever after. I suppose I forgot that option because I have never actually seen that occur in my own dating life. So, the possibilities that I have seen leave only one final outcome; a new date with a new person. 

This is the equation that leads someone to be a serial dater. It's a series of 'failures' that lead to a series of dates. It's not about using someone or conquering. It's simply the product of something ... unknown. It's a refusal to settle. And, in the end, it's about learning. As time goes, you learn likes and dislikes. You get a little better at all the things you do and you start to become more aware of what you want. Whether that is a good or bad thing is yet to be discovered. I am still not sure if I will be able to find someone that would fit all of my likes and dislikes. So, for this reason, I try to keep my flexibility. The last thing I want is to build this idea of what I want and spend my days attempting to find that perfect man. 

Instead, I am working on being the best me I can and should someone come along that appreciates that best me, we'll see where it goes. In the meantime, I am working to strike a balance that leaves me fulfilled in my dating life, while not leaving me feeling like nothing is sacred. I want to have a good time, while recognizing the individuality and value of each person I date. This got tough for a little while, but I think the kinks are starting to iron out and I am starting to enjoy dating again. 

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Rescheduled

When I was in Houston visiting in December, I made plans to meet a man and see a movie. Things happened and I ended up canceling. I didn't really know the guy, so I wasn't super concerned with canceling. I gave plenty of notice. It wasn't a stand up. And I didn't feel too terrible about it. But, I was kind of curious to meet him. I am still not sure what it was that made me curious. 

So, I kept his number and I stuck a mental pen in our unfulfilled date. Months passed and I thought about him again. So, I texted and told him that I would be moving back to Houston soon and if he was still interested, I would like to go on that date. That is, if he was still single. He responded. Turned out he was still single. So, I let him know that I would be home soon and that I would be in touch. 

I got back to Houston and as tired as I was of the dating scene, I decided to try to recreate the excitement I had at the beginning of last summer. It just wasn't there. I went on a couple of blah dates and tried to entertain myself. But, it just wasn't happening. However, I still wanted to meet him. We'll call him Austin. I'll explain later. And yes, he gets a name already. If you haven't figured it out yet, when and what I name the men in this blog is totally left to my discretion. There is no rhyme or reason to it. Well, there isn't a distinguishable rhyme or reason. I do have a method to my madness though. 

So, I decided that, while the dates would be fewer and farther between, I would not end them altogether. I texted Austin and we set up a date. I was going to a movie viewing in the park for a work thing and so I invited him along. However, when the day rolled around and I walked out to get into the car to go pick him up, I remembered that Texas is hotter than a witch's titty and I mentally scrapped the idea of the outdoor movie. Of course, I would run this by him and give him the option, but I was keeping my fingers crossed that he would be okay with just going for dinner and making the rest up as we went. 

I arrived at his place just a few minutes late. I had texted earlier to let him know I would be late. I woke up with some allergies, but canceling was not an option. I was pushing by being a little late. I had canceled on him and then not contacted him again for like 6 months. The fact that he was wiling to go out with me after that meant that he was either desperate or just a cool guy. 

He got in the car and he was really cute. He had freckles and a very nice smile. I was nervous, so I felt like I was acting a little less naturally than normal. But, he was nice and funny, so I loosened up pretty quickly. Actually, it got rather relaxed rather quickly. He was cool with skipping the movie and grabbing something to eat, then figuring out what to do from there. 

We tossed around a couple ideas of where to eat. And, in the end, decided on a caribbean spot in my old neighborhood. We both enjoyed the food and the conversation was natural and nice. I got the idea from some of his comments that he thought I was cool so far. I definitely thought he was cool. But, I did not feel that he thought I was particularly physically attractive. He made a comment that personality went a long way with him as a way of telling me that he was having a good time. Then, he went on to say that I had a unique look. I am not in the business of interpreting what people say or trying to figure out what they really meant. He said he was having a good time and that was good enough by me. We could continue our meal and enjoy our conversation. 

We did just that. Then, we set out to figure out what to do next. After making a pit stop for gas and gum, we went to a nearby coffee shop. It was a place he liked. I agreed. It was a nice spot. We spent the next two hours or so (I can't say I had track of the time at all that night) talking and laughing. We got a coffee and found a spot upstairs where we could people watch and talk. 

We talked about just about anything you could think of. We talked about exes and parents. We talked about our histories and views on relationships. We talked about siblings and friends. And, we talked a little about sex. This was the interesting part. Not just because it was about sex, but because it was a nonsexual conversation about sex. He was very contrary to what you all know my beliefs to be. He shared a pretty typical view that he would have a hard time trusting a woman that loved sex. He didn't defend this view. He actually identified it as a bit irrational, but he did share it nonetheless. I respect that. If you have a thought or view, I think it's best to own it and if you think it's slightly or overtly irrational, I think it's best to own it without defending it. I didn't ask him to defend it. I don't feel that is my place. He was open enough to share with me and I appreciated that. 

We shared a lot of viewpoints. And on the ones we didn't share, we had a respectful and playful dialogue that was kind of wonderful. The night was pretty much what I needed at that moment. I needed to just be heard and listen. From his description of the women he has been with, I got the idea that he likes thin blonds, or 'Barbie' types. I am definitely not that. But, that was okay by me. I'm okay with me. I was just glad that the conversation was organic and open. It wasn't skewed or driven by sexual energy. I was fairly sure that there would be no touching and that he would definitely not try to kiss me or touch me at any point in the evening. 

It was a first date. But, I actually felt kind of funny calling it a date at all.  It was just so comfortable. Not to say that it wasn't exciting. It was. But it was exciting and honest. That's a pretty great feeling. An open understanding and acceptance goes a long long way. So, we had more great conversation, then we decided to head out. 

As I drove him toward his house, we both decided that the night should not end yet. So, instead of taking him home, we went to a country and western bar. That was an experience in and of itself. He doesn't drink (which is a bonus for me) and I didn't really feel up to drinking anyway, so we sat back and talked and watched people dance and drink.  We stood outside and joked for a bit before deciding to head out before the partiers started pouring out. 

It was almost as if the night had been split into three dates and all of them were great. It wasn't just a date. It was an adventure. We spent the whole night getting to know each other a little and I can honestly say I am excited to get to know him better. There is definitely chemistry there. I just can't call it yet. I know I am attracted to him. But, if it doesn't take that route, I am quite sure that he and I will be friends. We have already started building a friendship. He's funny, he's smart and he's respectful. He seemed to be pretty open and honest and I need that in people in my life right now. I have no room to speculate. I just need to be told. 

I pulled up in front of his building and we started our goodbyes. We hugged and he asked when I 'reckoned' we would hang out again. But, he glossed over his own question so quickly, I didn't have a chance to answer. So, we said good bye and I drove home. As I drove home, I found myself laughing about things we had talked about and having moments of nostalgia for my home city and state. The boy is very Texan and I do like a Texas man. I'll let you guys know how it goes. It's been a long time since you've gotten a date post, but here it is. Hope it was worth the wait. It was for me. 

About Me

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I am the product-child of the Women's Lib movement. I have a grade A education, a promising career and no immediate goal for children or a spouse. I will be 30 this year and I have spent many years in monogamous relationships. In and out of 1 to 2 year relationships, I always dated with the goal of meeting someone special. Most of the time I didn't date. Most of the time I found myself falling into relationship after relationship. These relationships were doomed to fail. They were all built on expectations that were, for me, unattainable. I love meeting new people. I find sex enjoyable and empowering and I am not happy when I am monogamous. So, after my last break-up, after taking some time to grieve, I decided to cut my societal puppet strings and get back in the game. I set out on a mission to spend the Summer of 2010 dating as many men as possible. My only initial criteria was attraction. My only limitation was - no love and no structured relationships. This is my date by date tale of what life can be like outside of the goals of relationships and love.
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