Influences

Alternatively, a list of things that sort of make me tick on an everyday basis. For chronological purposes, I tried to include things only from the high school me or before. A lot of other things have come along since then, but these are sort of the things I count as "formative" to who I am now when I think about them.

Brian Kinney: I know he's been mentioned a bit already, but he really is sort of crucial to the working of my psyche. Also, he can do this:

Daria: Very 90s of me, I know. How can you argue with this, though?

Blink 182: Once I got past posters from Scholastic book fairs (you know the ones I'm talking about, all full of cute baby animals or shiny race cars), there was a point where I had nothing but Blink 182 posters in my room. No, I didn't hear about them until Enema of the State. I just appreciated the dick jokes and the fact that they gave me awkward little teenage ladyboners.

Libraries: Mainly because of reading, but also because of the way books smell. Not new books - library books have this very specific odor from being in so many different people's houses over the years. It's like you consolidate all the smells of humanity into one place, and it makes you feel peaceful. Also, they're generally quiet places, which is nice to escape to every now and then.

Jungle Juice: The stuff of high school party legend. Essentially a random mix of whatever alcohol/related other beverages happen to be around. I once tried it mixed with maple syrup, which was actually surprisingly tasty (although the intense amount of alcohol also probably helped kill whatever taste buds I had going). This I credit with showing me that I could get drunk and not become my mother; that I could make stupid choices and survive them.

Ozma of Oz: I can't really define what it is about this particular Oz book that I like so much. I have read a lot of the other ones as well, but this one I've read probably over 20 times. There's just something about it I keep coming back to.

Tommy Boy: There really isn't a situation that a line from this movie can not be used effectively. Whenever somebody can actually quote it with me, I get all JoJo the Indian circus boy on them.

Just a girl who can't say no

Being a person who doesn't do the whole "date" thing because I prefer the "hang out, possibly have a good time, and then touch each other's genitals" thing can make things interesting. Not just because it's a personal preference that I haven't really found shared with many others, but because it welcomes up a host of opportunities for self-reflection. (One of my most/least favorite things about my upbringing is my tendency to over-analyze everything. It's helpful in some situations and annoying in others.)

The point of reflection comes in at steps two and three in the "alternate 'date'" process. (Step one: collect underpants. Step three: profit!) Let's say I'm out with somebody, and step two (possibly have a good time) is not going as well as it could be. I won't get Alanis with my 21 things right now,

but let's just say there are a few missing points. In the past, I have usually gone with the Underpants Gnomes way to deal with this and skipped straight to step 3.

More recently, I've come to realize that I can be sex positive and slutty yet also not have to fuck somebody just because we've gotten past step one and step two. From experience, if step two is a struggle, step three is not really enjoyable anyway. But I don't have to keep going to step three just because that's sort of the premise of the "date" to begin with. It's an interesting thing to realize.

Drop

One of the most awesome things about growing up and being treated like an inconvenience (here I am using "awesome" in it's lesser known definition: "completely shitty") is getting to adult life and having to at some point admit that you should be allowed to ask for things that are important for you without having to obsess about whether people are secretly wishing for "easier," since that's what you were directly told fairly frequently growing up.

When I was first getting together with now-hubby (I feel like he needs some sort of fancy nickname here, he can't manage to come up with something original, so maybe I'll just call him "nh," and then he'll be one letter away from NPH as well), it was a fairly difficult issue to have to constantly consolidate that he actually wanted to be with me. Not because I think I'm not interesting, sexy, etc. whatever. Just because dating somebody who is not in a poly mindset would be somehow easier, and wouldn't everybody want that?

In the end, as with poly relationships themselves, you have to begin to let go a bit of the emotional control and focus instead on the physical things that you can change. Of course, the two tie in fantastically well and sometimes blur until you're not sure really which one you are really reacting to.

Priorities

The moral of the story when it comes to getting a blood clot and spending 3 days in the hospital is apparently this: don't. An alternate moral might be, if you absolutely have to, make sure that you either live in a country with socialized health care or have insurance that will cover more of your medical costs than mine did.

Therefore, a lot of my paychecks get spent paying off medical debt, which is bullshit and makes me variously unhappy. With the extra few pennies I have left every two weeks, I somehow slot it in so I can still do occasional "fun" things (i.e. munches, gang bangs, drive down to see people I like spending time with, etc.)

Priorities come in when there are other "shoulds" to spend money on, i.e. a cousin of mine who is having a baby shower. Somehow I can't get it up to spend any money finding baby things for her, but I can find an extra $12 to buy one of my subs a tag for his collar.

Similarly, I try not to think about how much money I currently have inked into my skin permanently. (I've done the math before, it's not an insignificant sum.) When it came time for me to buy a new computer awhile back, I flaked at the price tag, even though I'd easily spent over that to sit in a chair and have somebody poke ink-filled needles into me for an hour or so.

Being a girl

Tonight's agenda consists of drinking Chardonnay and watching Sex and the City. (Well, I'm not actually watching it now, I'm currently watching Pucca, but SaTC is definitely in the works for later.)

Later in the night I am sort of in the mood to wear the Feeldoe and jerk myself off before going to bed.

The point of telling you all of this is another one of those language arguments that I like to make where things do not necessarily have to be "girl" things vs. "boy" things. This applies even to those who don't identify as gender queer, gender fucked, or however you choose to phrase it. It also hinges on how much I dislike use of the word "but" as a conjunction when trying to clarify or excuse things. For example, "I'm not a girly girl, but..."

The whole thing is counterproductive. As the incomparable Brian Kinney says, "No apologies, no regrets." Trying to excuse or somehow explain away the things you like or the things you do based solely on your genitalia is a waste of everybody's time.

Attraction

One of the more frustrating things about having a blog is the fact that I am also therefore on the Internet and sometimes browse other websites. Other websites that will write articles that clearly articulate thoughts I myself have had. It's a product of the hive mind, it can't be helped.

This is one of those types of articles. The Good Men Project is also an awesome place in general, if you haven't checked it out before. I believe the link should be SFW, although there is what appears to be a shirtless, sweaty man picture. The article also does use the word "breast." Use your best discretion, folks. :p

Super serious blog entry ahead

Nah, not really.

Curves (see in glossary: gym in which I work out) was super late-90s high school dance today. Which got me thinking about the eternal argument: were you into 'N Sync or the Backstreet Boys? Even if you really didn't give two shits for either band (which was which camp I aligned myself with), you were stil culturally aware of both bands and still had a preference for one over the other.

Personally, I would have to go with 'N Sync. Although the members of BSB were clearly the panty melters, 'N Sync had much better music. If somebody held a gun to my head and told me I had to pick which album to listen to before I died, it's going to have to be No Strings Attached over Backstreet's Back. (I arbitrarily chose the second album for both bands, so don't be all "omg but Backstreet's first album was totally better." I'm not interested.)

Seriously. Sometimes on paydays I still internally sing this gem. (Also, check out those sweet ass Night at the Roxbury head moves at the beginning.)

"O face"

This weekend was ye ol' monthly gang bang, which is always a good time. This was the third one I've been to with the same group of people. Typically around 35 men to about 5 women. This time there were a lot of newbies, which is not necessarily a problem until the party actually started and I realized I had forgotten to mention the "o face." (I brought it up at the beginning of the second party only because it was irritating the first time I went to have to stop every time to assure everybody I was okay. More explanation to follow.)

When I cum, it tends to be fairly intense. When I have multiple orgasms (as sometimes happens when I have upwards of 5 men with their hands, cocks, and mouths all over me), it can sometimes get to the point where I look like I'm having a grand mal seizure. Think something a bit like this:

 
I seize up, I buck around, my back arches, I stop breathing sometimes, eyes roll, etc. etc. For those who are unacquainted with the way I orgasm, it can be kind of scary to witness.

I have at two different occasions actually passed out while having orgasms. Luckily both times were 1:1 type of situations, and were with men that I knew and trusted. The first time it happened I had no idea, but the second time I could sort of tell it was coming and was able to warn the guy (I do come back on my own, but it's just sort of a pleasure coma for a bit).

Obligatory Buck Angel name drop

I just found out today about his documentary: Sexing the Trans Man (NSFW, duh)

Although it may never come through on Netflix streaming, I'm intensely interested in seeing this one.

I do both Jay and Jane

As a semi-related factoid on this blog entry, I have recently started wearing boxer briefs regularly again. Damn, those things are comfortable. Anyway, on to our regularly scheduled entry (which is of course a joke, as I just sort of write these as ideas pop in my head).

I like to equate my queerness to dual citizenship. Whereas the latter (holy shit, can you tell I've been working on a paper for my master's class recently?) gets to be a citizen of two different nations, I get to be part of two awesomely disparate yet completely similar genders. And yes, before everyone gets all up in arms about, "there are more genders than just two!" I acknowledge that as a possibility. So please just take a deep breath and keep reading.

Again, I don't mean to get all guidance counselor (apologies again to my giant guidance counselor fan-base). The best part of dual citizenship is being able to shut down on comparisons and preconceptions and just accept people as people. The second best part is it gives me an opportunity to bust people's chops about their preconceived notions about the "other" gender. Third is an acceptance of what I like, and how I like it, that is completely unconnected to what I'm supposed to like. That fells nice.

Never knew girls existed like you

I'm currently reading the book Incognito: The Secret Life of the Brain, mostly because Jiz Lee said she was reading it. And, let's face it. If a sexy genderqueer porn star like Jiz Lee

is reading something and finding it interesting, you better well pick that fucking book up and read it as well.

So far, it is quite interesting. And the author is quite a ladyboner.

The only issue I am encountering is ye ol' straight white male perspective. Which is not as pervasive as in, say, books like Dr. Louann Brizendine's. Which I know is a confusing statement to make as she is a female author, but it is possible to buy in and write about the SWM perspective without actually being a SWM. 


It's just sometimes disheartening to be bashed over the head with the neuroscience perspective that regardless of anything else, men like X and women like Y because hormones and beta receptors and subconscious evolutionary survival thoughts. (It should be clear at this point why I decided against a career in anything that required more than a working knowledge of science.) It's the same reason that I dislike being told that I can't have casual sex because of oxytocin, or that I'm not allowed to do half of the other things I do because somehow my lady brain should be stopping me from all of that. It's on the one hand interesting to learn about how the brain functions and what type of things are truly subconscious behaviors for human beings in general (some of the stuff Eagleman writes about as far as the visual receptors of the brain are pretty mind-blowing), but on the other hand extremely disheartening to have to always break things down to the "he said, she said" version of science, where heteros can take a quote out of a book and somehow justify their worldview because...you know...brain science.