Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Green eyes

I was talking with my bestie recently about our crazy lady brains and how much we dislike them. I forget where I read it recently, but the gist was the difference between a psychological "norm" among men vs. a psychological "norm" among women, and how the second is almost completely impossible to set. Because we be all crazy and things. Not that men don't have their own idiosyncrasies, but women are odd in our very own special fucking snowflake way. It's hilariously awesome and annoying all at the same time.

So we were comparing stories, and bestie asked if I ever got jealous. We've known each other for 15 years (this time period includes high school), we had very similar upbringings (read: shitty and emotionally damaging), and we've been each other's sounding boards for things on several occasions. She's the one person I know I can always count on to tell me to get my head out of my ass about something, and one of the very few people that I'll actually listen to.

When I thought about it, I don't get jealous. Not that it's an emotion that I used to feel and I've somehow "conquered" or "gotten over" it.  I've just never had the desire to "own" somebody, or make a relationship so exclusive as to exclude any type of extra-relationship interactions. As an aside, one of the frisbee guys once asked how many boyfriends/girlfriends I've had, and I could honestly answer none. I've had relationships with people, and I've got notches in the bedpost, but I've never really used that terminology, and I've never had a relationship that was so clearly delineated as to, "well, now I guess we're a 2-for-1 type of deal." The amount of time and effort people put into caring and thinking about what their significant other is doing or who they're talking to or where they're going seems exhausting to me.

That being said, I do get insecure about other women being more intelligent, prettier, etc. than I am. I think fairly frequently about how much "easier" things would be for the people I'm with if they just went to be with one of those "better" women. I don't count that as jealousy, though. And bestie didn't either.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012


For those gentle readers who are not familiar with the title vernacular: dtf = down to fuck

I'm a firm disbeliever in "sexual economy."

Aside: Joan is pretty much awesome, even though she did fuck that guy from Jaguar to get the account...sorry, rambling spoilers about Mad Men over. Sexual economy is an idea out there that women and men somehow trade things for sex. i.e. he takes her out for a nice dinner, maybe buys her some jewelry, and she's pretty much contractually obligated to have sex with him.

It's also the idea that women who "give up" sex too quickly ruin things for all of us, because then men start thinking that they don't have to try anymore ("try" of course meaning here "spend lots of money or ultimately propose marriage to"). Ultimately, it's bullshit and it robs everyone of the idea that sex can just be a pleasurable, mutually agreed upon act that both people enjoy and don't have to waste a lot of brain power figuring out the pricing gauge for. Although it does make me giggle to imagine two people completely naked and possibly torqued haggling over sexual acts. "A blowjob is at least one pearl earring. I'll let you cum on my tits if you buy the set." (Also, it just makes me think of that Chef song from South Park about prostitutes. You know, the one with James Taylor in it, too. I tried to find a clip of it that didn't include a bunch of other bs, but couldn't. Go forth, denizens, if you really care about it.)

That being said, not relying on a system of checks and balances to dictate when I'm allowed to have sex, I am typically dtf a lot of the time. However, it gets difficult because there are those rare instances when I'm not. Especially since I have the distinct inability to articulate this. It has a bit to do with some issues with black and white thinking (i.e. if I'm not dtf, then I somehow am on the complete opposite end of the spectrum and buying into the sexual economic game, which I dislike and gets me into a crappy mindset to begin with), as well as the old favorite of not being able to articulate what I want. Now-hubby likes to attribute this one to where I grew up, while therapy lady likes to put more of the emphasis on how I grew up. Either way, it's frustrating. I can rarely even state a preference for trivial things like restaurant choice, so being able to say, "I'm not really in the mood for p-in-the-v sex right now, but I could probably take my shirt off and play with your dick for a bit" is almost completely impossible. Therapy lady and I were working on a system where I would count to 3 internally and then just say what I was thinking when somebody asked me to make a choice. Or even if I wasn't asked but had a clear preference one way or the other for a given activity (i.e. dtf vs. not) Sort of exposure therapy, if you will. The idea was the more times people don't say, "that's a fucking stupid way to think and you should be quiet," the better I would become at speaking up.

Sunday, August 26, 2012


I just finished reading I Don't, which I guess was supposed to be about the history of marriage, but would have probably been more appropriately titled, A History of Why Women Suck. Maybe they went with that title originally and it didn't test well in the markets? There were a few interesting points made - especially the one where women are supposedly these insatiable witchy creatures who have almost limitless power to fuck over (literally and figuratively) the patriarchy, but for the better part of history are treated as lesser citizens. It's like putting an atomic bomb in a stuffed animal. gentle with women because they're all soft and stuff. But also watch your back, because internally they have the ability for complete destruction. That's sort of a neat juxtaposition.

Ultimately, though, the book's sort of disappointing and not really about marriage at all. If you're really looking for a well-written cultural history of marriage, What is Marriage For? is decent.

Here's another one of those seemingly incongruous moments where I don't really believe in marriage, but am a married person. It's sort of similar to the way I view the whole love thing. It's an institution. It exists, and some people take it to extremes to try and make it somehow justify or validate things that don't need justification or validation. One of my least favorites is the idea that marriage somehow "guarantees" things. Followed closely by the "supposed to" argument. One of my better friends said this when she got married - she didn't want her relationship to break up, so the apparent opposite choice to that was to get married. Like somebody was holding a gun to her head at their 1-year anniversary and saying, "you either have to break up or get married. Because just being happy together is for shit." Mostly, like everything in life, it just makes me think of Tommy Boy. "If you want me to take a shit in a box and mark it 'guaranteed' I will. I've got spare time." That's the impetus behind the whole thing. Marriage doesn't guarantee anything, or make anything better or more valid.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Dick blog

I'd like to point you to this Sinfest comic. Which is neat and stuff, because seriously, fuck the gender police. (Not an actual police task force, in case you were worried about that.)

I used the Feeldoe yesterday to jerk off. I put it in, turned the bullet on, and then used some lube on the dick part and jerked off. It was phenomenal. After having used it a few times, my main complaint about the Feeldoe is that the bulb part always pops out when I cum. Jerking off with it was awesome because I could use one hand to sort of hold it in place (which also pressed the ridged part up against my clit), and the other hand to work the dick part.

When I have my dick on, it's like a phantom limb realized. Psychoanalyze all you want about it, I just know that when I have my dick on, I have a dick. It's not a toy or a fantasy, it's my dick and it feels awesome. Of course, yes, I can't really get into the cultural and physiological mindset that is "maleness" (however the fuck you want to describe that), I just know that having a dick is an awesome feeling, and rubbing it until I cum is an even better one.

Saturday, August 18, 2012


At suggestion of the German (you've finally made it to not-so-obscure nickname status - congratulations!), I recently watched a little film called Turn Me On, Dammit (hereafter shortened to TMO for brevity's sake). If you want the better, NSFW trailer that he sent me and not the watery-down version on the IMDB site, klicken Sie hier.

If you were at all planning on seeing this movie, and don't want any spoilers, then I suggest you don't read this blog entry. You could maybe go play some chill games or something instead.

So, my thoughts. Mostly, I just thought it was cool how a lot of things were pretty standard. It's sort of a sex comedy for teenagers, but not another one of those where there's soo many hilarious hijinks and possible tit shots that you could almost vomit preteen hormones everywhere.

Something I've always disliked about "teen" movies (even when I was a teen - which was admittedly awhile ago, shut your mouth, whippersnappers) and movies in general is the repetitive formatting. Sometimes you'll come across one that is so distinctly standard format that it almost transcends into goodness (a notable example to this being The Break-Up, mostly just because they didn't get back together at the end. Sorry, spoilers there too), but mostly you just get stuck watching the same formulaic bullshit. i.e. "Okay, now in this part they're going to have a big fight about something that actually boils down to a miscommunication. But by the end of the movie they'll be all sucky face with each other again, so no worries."

What I mean to say by all that rambling is it was nice that the town was small in a realistic sort of way (having grown up in a "hole" myself, I appreciate when they're represented accurately), that Alma and her friends party and drink and be teenagers and stuff, but not in a way where they're reduced to those singular traits of teenage-hood. It's also not shown as this totally depressing thing like, "OMG this is all there is to do here."

The only thing I thought was a little unfair was how Alma was really the only horny character in the movie. I get that she's the main character, so it's sort of her story. Mom dates the turnip boss (many laughs were had about turnip mining, as I grew up in an area where mineral mining is one of the professions people do), and you see Alma's friend Sara date that Kjartan guy, but there's really nobody else who's dtf like Alma is, and it's sort of disappointing. It's not until fairly late in the movie that anybody even says, "there's nothing wrong with you." There's this sort of vague edge of sex positivity to the whole thing, but it's also shaped like Alma's sexuality is somehow farther outside the bounds of "normal" than it should be.

In general, I thought it was really good, though. Danke to the German for sharing it. :)

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Nice guys finish last

I tend to hang out with, and be friends with, more gentlemen than ladies. I've stopped trying to rationalize it or excuse it to myself or anybody else. It just happens that way.

In any case, being friends with gentleman inevitably means that I am introduced to friends-of-friends (this happens with lady friends also - where you start to have mutual friends just through your little singular friendship).

Something interesting I've noticed in regards to the mutual gentleman friends, though, is how they excuse themselves if I know a particularly juicy tidbit about something stupid that they've done. (Or, to be more specific, a juicy tidbit about someone they've done. Hey-o.) Usually it just breaks down to the standard sticking your dick in crazy story - some lady that the guy intrinsically knew it was going to be a bad idea to fuck, but then fucked anyway. Variants abound, so I won't go into specifics. Although it seems like a rather human error, I tend to see gentlemen making the mistake far more often than ladies (which, on the flip side, you can argue that's just because women are crazier. Whatever. I'm all for equal opportunity sexual stereotyping).

When I meet these particular gentlemen mutuals, it always seems very important for them to make it clear to me that's, "not really who they are." I don't know where this comes from. If it's that I'm a woman, or they're afraid somehow that one hilariously stupid sexual experience is going to tarnish my esteem for them (even though, in most cases of mutuals, I meet them very rarely and don't spend too much time obsessing about their ridiculous sexual exploits).

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Submissive speak

When I do my little online dominatrix thing, I invariably get posts from submissives where the entire context is, "lol I dunno what I like. Isn't that your job to tell me?"

Short answer? No.

Back in the day when I walked uphill both ways to school and was first getting involved in the BDSM community, I really didn't know much about "the scene." I didn't call myself a "submissive" - part of this was my undying hatred for relationship terminology. Sort of like how I've never really felt comfortable being anybody's "girlfriend" or "partner" or what have you. In an equitable sense, I've never been comfortable using terms like "husband," either. Not in a conversational sense. I mean, I can ask somebody else about their husband. "How was your weekend with your husband?" But in order to classify somebody that is spending time with me so specifically just sort of makes my skin itch.

In any case. Regardless of whether I used the proper term or not, I didn't know much about myself as a submissive. The woman I was with and I took things slowly, and started with things like light bondage and impact. Turns out I liked those, and we moved on to other things. If I thought I didn't like something, I spoke up about it and we crossed it off the list as a possibility. I did some more research (books, mainly, but also a fair amount of porn. Which, I know, is not the best learning material out there, but it isn't unhelpful, either).

I did a few sessions with these shoulder shruggers, and they're never any good. I don't want a submissive who has no idea what they like and can't give me some form of direction. Now, the submissives who get very quiet and all sub-spacey in a session and then I sort of have free reign...those are a different and altogether more enjoyable story.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

That feels

After a thorough discussion of whether or not cats are perpetually on shrooms (Now-hubby's stance: no, my stance: yes, in case you were curious), we got into a discussion about lovey feelings.

It mostly started because I was recounting experiences from the gang bang this weekend, and telling some stories about one of the men there who I hadn't seen in awhile and had a really good time reconnecting with. (Read into that what you will, pervos. It's probably a little bit if not actually more than you're imagining.)

In any case, the resulting discussion was about what exactly constitutes "love" for somebody like me who doesn't necessarily put a lot of stock in the whole thing. Why, for example, my feelings for Now-hubby and Frisbee are completely different and intense than they are for the guy at the gang bang. Who I have a fantastic time with, connect with on a humor level (which is very big for me), and I'd like to think are fairly compatible in the intercourse sense.

There's a wide variety of people I get involved with. When I say "involved" in this sense I mean "have genital contact with." Well, more like 4 distinct varieties.

1: The "grenade." I had to ask Now-hubby for this term, because I couldn't come up with something that was appropriately lower than the obligations in a distinctly negative sense. For those of you who don't know the terminology, a grenade is somebody that your wingman takes on because you're going to have genital relations with the more attractive person. It's not necessarily about physical attractiveness in this instance, it's sort of more like this.

Or this. (I couldn't choose - both reaction gifs are quite accurate.)

It's that moment when I'm out with somebody or even messaging somebody online and there's that clarifying instance where I know it's not going to work, and I sort of shrug my shoulders and go for genital contact anyway. I've been trying to get away from this type of involvement, as it's generally not healthy and ultimately not pleasurable in any sense.

2: The obligations. Not necessarily people who I dislike being with, but the type of people who I'm not really thinking about on a daily basis if I'm not spending time with them. If they contact me and it happens to work out with my schedule, it's fun to be with them. But I'm not usually actively trying to be with them.

3: The friends with benefits. i.e. the guy from the gang bang. People that I have a lot in common with, and generally have a really good time with (both genitally and non-genitally). There's always a sort of plateau to these relationships, where things are awesome but not, you know, totally excellent.

4: "Loves" The way I describe it to Now-hubby. Friends with benefits are nice and all. They're fun to call up and be with. The way I distinguish this level...if I'm not physically around this person for a few days, I get actually physically depressed. It sounds cliche, but it hurts my heart.

Also, because it's semi-related to this post and Marshie is one of the better things in life:

Friday, August 3, 2012


Despite what social niceties would have me believe, I tend to find certain physical attributes attractive. Of course, this is not by any means an exhaustive list. And, of course, yes, there are other personality things that matter quite a great deal when I'm considering getting together with somebody (for example: can you make me genuinely laugh?) But just given optical input? Here's what I look for. (Since I like to be all equal opportunistic about things, I tend to be attracted to these things in either gents or ladies.)

1. Hands

Hands can do a lot of things. This also parlays into a thing about fingers. Which are attached to hands (in most cases). When I see hands/fingers, my mind automatically goes to the way they would look/feel holding onto my hips, wrapped around my neck, or possibly covered in spit and slowly rubbing against my vulva. (For women especially, fake and/or overly long nails are a deal breaker. I know it's a cliche, but seriously. Anybody who has experienced the sharp knifey stabs of long fingernails in a vagina or tried to clean their own fingernails after finger fucking's just not a good idea.)

2. Jawline

Specifically that little area where the jawbone meets the earlobe. I tried to Google it. If there's an anatomical name for it, I don't know it. It's awesome place to put kisses. So if it's a clearly defined area, I can more vividly imagine said kisses. Which is fun.

3. Hips

Semi-connected to the first point. The hips are a good place to put hands, so it's sort of a secondary interest point for me. Also, before men get all bent out of shape about things, men do have hips. Not in the same voluptuous awesome way that ladies do. But in a way that I can definitely hold onto while giving head or having sex in the missionary.

4. Tats

Not a given. It depends on the ink in question.'s definitely an interest for me. Also, good talking point.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012


Patton Oswalt has a decent bit called "Piss Drinkers." (If you feel like it, you can find it here.) In a nutshell, the idea is if you can think of something, it's a fetish.

Like most things related to the way humans interact with each other (I swear, I am not a secret cyborg), kink/BDSM/fetish is neat to learn and know about. I knew going into the whole awkward hormonal teenage stage that I didn't really like monogamy and what it represented. I also knew (although denied and tried to explain away for a few more years) that there was something particularly about other ladies that was completely fascinating in a tingly sort of way.

I've come across people sometimes in the kink lifestyle who can describe their interest in BDSM the same way - they just sort of knew. It wasn't like that for me. When I was busy making out with some select other drama crew members (yes, I was that kid in high school - marching band was bereft of ladyboner material, also weirdly full of couples - go figure), I wasn't ever thinking how awesome it would be if we could also tie each other up, or if one of them would just slap me around a little bit.

I had a girlfriend for awhile in college who was also a Domme. I didn't know this going in, but I did know that I liked having sex with her. So when she brought up the idea of handcuffing me to a ring hooked in the ceiling while she fucked me, I was game. I want to really clarify that it wasn't anything where I thought I had to in order to make her happy, or that I did something I was fundamentally uncomfortable with just to somehow keep the relationship going. It was more of an, "okay, we can do that" shoulder shrug and then I wound up really liking it.