Take it off nice and slow

As a general rule, I tend not to read books about stripping. I've briefly paged through a few, and always came away with the same worn-out postulation: "It's a great way to make money, but think about the objectification!" When it comes to discussions about strip clubs, people feel pretty strongly about it either way. Either it's empowering or it's demeaning. I tend to just hang out in the middle like, "whatever floats your boat, sir or madam." Trying to condense any culture into one easily argued standpoint seems sort of fruitless to me.

Of course, I also like learning about new perspectives on things. The majority of books I've seen so far write about stripping from the stripper's perspective. This one might be different. Might be worth checking out. That is, of course, if I can pile it in with all the other books I've currently got on the "going to read" list.

Friend is a four letter word

I came across this little blog entry yesterday about the "Friend Zone." Mostly it's good stuff, but then the author mentions this bit:

Instead of putting my interests out there, and risk being rejected (and lose the right to hang out with her), I held back and waited for some sign from above (or for her to make an obvious move).

Lose the right to hang out with her? As though an admittance of feelings somehow "ruins" whatever was there before and you have to completely nuke the entire situation?

I don't know. I'm admittedly not very good at the whole "friend" thing.

So, as I do in situations like this, I spent a few hours trying to analyze it in my brain. Aided, of course, with tons of useful information from the Internet.

Then I found this advice thing on how you can salvage a friendship if you've completely buggered everything up by telling the other person you have feelings for them. Despite being hilarious all on it's own, it also has pictures! Pictures! So you can figure out exactly what your facial expressions should look like as you do each of the steps. (Tip One: Put on eyeliner.) You know, in case you were a secret robot or something and needed that extra visual reinforcement to figure out what humans were supposed to do in a situation like this.

I also stumbled upon this, which despite how much I wanted to hate it (Psychology Today = ugh. Also, that blog title. Gah.) I just couldn't bring myself to. I read it like 4 times trying to find little bits I could pick apart and make fun of. I even took the time to read through some of her other articles which have titles that made me go all rage boner and then text that actually had me liking the way she writes and reasons about things a lot. Damnit.

Words!

Back to our regularly scheduled program. I wound up spending Thursday/Friday with Frisbee, and then home on the weekend with Now-hubby. Which was different than the normal schedule, and threw me off just a bit. Not that I'm a fundamentally different person with either of them, but I do get into a certain routine. Getting done with work on Saturday and going over to Frisbee's. Waking him up with pester cuddles. Getting hugs and snuggles from Now-hubby when he gets home from work on Monday. Luckily, spending time with either of them is pretty fantastic, so it wasn't difficult to adapt to, "going to see a band play on Thursday night with Frisbee" or "holding hands while taking a walk on Sunday afternoon with Now-hubby."

I forget exactly how we got on the topic Thursday night, but the rule in Frisbee and I's relationship that he can't fuck people in my family came up. Actually, it's more one of those, "not unless we really talked about it first," rules. And before you ask, no, I don't have a similar rule with Now-hubby. Although in that case it's probably a rule more along the lines of, "I don't think this should have to be said out loud, but I reserve the right to be angry if it happens because I'd still be uncomfortable with it."

Rules are a tricky subject. I think it's easy to get on the slippery slope of things that make you feel insecure or uncomfortable and put up barriers against all those things. In my opinion, it's another fantastic hold-over from the way you're supposed to think about relationships. i.e. Get together with one other person and then just be completely and 100% blissed out at all times about how perfect everything is.

So in monogamous relationships the barriers are the relationship themselves. (I had a mindfuck a few weeks ago at about a [6] when I mentioned to Now-hubby: "Why do straight people always complain about how unhappy they are in their relationships? Is that supposed to be how it's done?" His reply: "Why do you think they call it an 'institution?'") This exclusive relationship is set up and it's just understood that anything outside of that relationship isn't allowed anymore. Literally...anything.

In poly those barriers are set up with rules. Things are so much more open and honest than those silly straight people. And since within the relationship(s) you can talk about literally anything, it's really easy to create a list of all the things that you don't want your SO engaging in.

You should know about Erika Moen

The incredibly awesome Erika Moen has a comic up about menstrual cups on her awesome site, Oh Joy Sex Toy.

Everyone should go check it out. The site itself is pretty cool, although a lot of the products she reviews are sent to her by companies, so she winds up advocating you buy something even if she didn't really like the toy.

Sharpen your scissors

Now-hubby has got us watching Orange is the New Black. So far, I am pretty unimpressed with it. We're in the fifth episode, and so far I could condense the show thusly: Some white lady goes to prison for the most boring crime ever and 100% of the people around her in prison are more interesting than her, but we never get to learn anything about the really interesting people because they're not the main character.

Which I didn't realize until just now that the person behind OTNB is the same lady who did Weeds, and I hated the shit out of that show as well. So that explains a little bit, I guess.

The main issue I have, though? It's how OTNB apparently has no freaking idea how lesbian sex actually works.

There have been two notable scenes so far (both involving the incredibly sexy Natasha Leon).

One is in the shower, and the take-away lesson is that a woman's vagina is actually located on her inner thigh.  Maybe I've been doing it wrong all these years, but in my opinion if you're properly munching carpet you shouldn't be able to look over the woman's leg at somebody. Your head should be parallel with her legs, not perpendicular to it.

The second one happens in the chapel (ooooh, it's like extra sinful or something), and I...I can't even begin to figure out what's supposed to be happening. Natasha's head is at least in the right position, but then her hand is also there? And her arm is in the weirdest position I've ever seen for doing anything. I'm going to try to explain this with a picture reference.

Except Natasha was sitting down on the ground, and instead of that balance ball imagine a woman's crotch. That's what the sex looked like. If that makes sense to anybody out there, please explain this to me.

Beneficiary

First, I would just like to put something out there. For every time somebody pulls out a condom and there's like...5 or 6 of them all connected to each other (I'm talking specifically to you, Miranda from episode 603, or Bay from the most recent Switched at Birth), that's the way that they come out of the box. (Unless you got a single condom like the ones they hand out at Planned Parenthood or you bought one from those gas station bathroom vending machine things.) Even if you buy the box that only has 3 condoms in it, they're going to be connected. So reactions of "OMG he's having so much sex this is something to judge him about" are completely unnecessary.

Anyway. On to the actual entry.

The August issue of Marie Claire has this article entitled, "The Happy Hookup." It's only two pages long, but was apparently important enough to include on the cover.

The tl;dr before I begin breaking this down into little rage-inspiring bits: The author doesn't like the term, "friends with benefits" so she decides to use the term, "taking a lover" instead. It means exactly the same thing, but it sounds so much fancier!

*cracks knuckles* Here we go.

I know the concept [of friends with benefits] works for a lot of women, but to me it suggests resignation: getting it on with a dude who's only around because you both lack better alternatives.

Being somebody who is particularly squelchy about the way I define myself and the way I interact with others, I completely get the desire to use a term she feels comfortable with to describe what she's doing. However, I'm not okay with the judgmental assumption that people that use...that other word...are somehow intrinsically less happy. The "lack[ing] better alternatives" bit sets off right from the beginning that neither person is really invested in the other. Which, I thought being interested in each other was sort of a cornerstone to being friends with somebody? There's a lot of confusing information about what exactly it means to be "friends" with somebody in this article. We'll get to more. No worries.

Friends with benefits are the frozen pizza of sex, and aren't any sexier than their name, even when portrayed in a Justin Timberlake movie.

She's of course talking about this movie. There was also No Strings Attached released in the same year. Neither of which I saw, because the previews were enough to let me know that the main characters eventually fall in love with each other and do the "exclusive" relationship thing because it is literally impossible to have sex with somebody without developing romantic-type feelings for them. We're still riding the idea that any sex you have in a FWB-type situation must be the most disappointing sex you've ever had. Still unclear as to whether this is because you're actually "friends" with the person or if there's some deeper, undisclosed reason things are so unfulfilling. But mostly I take offense to this sentence because she insults pizza. Also, I googled "sexy pizza" and this was the first result.

Bless you, Google.

"Taking a lover" feels sophisticated and daring, womanly and seductive, the opposite of being taken for granted.

She mentions a sentence before this about how the main difference between "friends with benefits" and "taking a lover" is semantics. And it's entirely true. She also compares it to, "changing from flats to heels," which makes me want to vomit with the implications about what's considered "sexy" when you're a woman, but I digress. In Sign Language, there are what are known as directional verbs. Help, ask, give, etc. The motion of the sign varies depending on who you're talking about. "Help me" and "help her" are essentially the same sign, only in different directions. This is what the difference is between being "taken for granted" and "taking a lover." In the former instance, you're the one being taken. In the latter, you're doing the taking. That's it. It's just a matter of switching the direction of your verb. If that makes you feel better, so be it.

...they gave as good as they got...

Because somebody doesn't have an inflated ego about things at all.

 

Having just weathered a painful breakup from a guy I'd thought would be my forever man, I wanted solace and took the initiative. 

"Solace." Riiiight.

The absolute best thing you can do after a painful breakup is not take any time to process or figure things out for yourself, but instead get together with the next immediately available person. Oh wait, I forgot that the whole thing was completely "casual." Hell, you're not even "friends" with the other person.

The first time he made me come, it was hard and fast, the way I had seen it be for boys, my jeans tugged down, my shoes still on.

This particular sentence just makes me think the author is some sort of creep who owns a telescope for the sole purpose of spying on men having sex. 

Unlike those friends with benefits who share little beyond proximity and sex, we often stayed up talking and listening to music until dawn.

Again, reeeeealy confused about what exactly constitutes "friendship."

Marguerite Duras had lovers. Patti Smith had lover. I had a lover.

Name drop, much?

Having both men in my life made me feel like I didn't have to adhere to either one's schedule. I was taking what I wanted, filling my nights with all of the talk and sex I could desire. 

I enjoy the implication that if she was dating either partner in a more serious fashion, it means she'd have to be part of his schedule automatically. All plans or interests she may have had would inherently come second place if this were a "relationship."

When I last saw both men, long after our original interludes, there was a fondness and sparkle between us, along with the sweet, salty ease of old lovers - everything that ever passed between us still there.

Sweet, salty ease... *giggles*

But not all encounters need to be about romantic love. And not all casual hookups need to lack intimacy.

Damnit, fine. I'll agree with you on this point. I guess we can be friends. That means we have to have disappointing sex together, right? I'm still a bit unclear. 

Halloween amendment

Apropos of this entry, if you're looking for a threesome costume, might I suggest:

Nathan Lane and Robin Williams from The Birdcage

For the 3rd? Agador Spartacus, of course. I would fucking pay money to see somebody rock this outfit. Ever.

Get in your cardio

In today's "I didn't realize this" moment: the sports bra wasn't invented until the 70's.

Lots of other fun facts to follow in this article.

Fitting the frame

I started in therapy when I was around 22 years old. I don't like telling people that I went because of Now-hubby, because then it makes it sound like it was some shitty ultimatum along the lines of, "you're really fucked up and weird. You need to fix that before we can be together." Although that's pretty much exactly the conversation the two of us had inside my head. See, I have this particularly bad habit of putting words into people's mouths inside my brain. Before anybody can have a chance to tell me "good job" I'm already internally halfway through the critique of how things could have been better. Couple that with the fact I was having legitimate panic attacks about how towels were getting folded after the laundry was done, and it seemed like therapy might not be a bad idea.

At first, it was even difficult to get into the whole, "you had a shitty childhood, therefore you're sort of fucked up now" thing. Cue the internal voice saying lots of things about how it was a cop-out and if I could just figure my own shit out I wouldn't need help. Help is for the weak, etc. etc.

Eventually, I figured some shit out. Coping strategies, mostly. After a certain point, it became apparent that I wasn't going to become a completely different person. But saying something like, "I need some space to figure this out" instead of flipping out and losing my ability to breathe seemed preferable to the way I was handling things. I still haven't completely figured out a way to shut the voice up inside my head, but I've at least gotten better at identifying it as not being the same thing at all to what people are actually saying. Or giving myself the space and time to separate the two before I mistakenly react to the internal first before giving the external a chance to seep in.

Saying, "you had a shitty childhood, therefore you're sort of fucked up right now" is helpful as long as I can keep myself from analyzing every little thing I do and trying to figure out if it's a product of said childhood. Things can creep up unexpectedly and then it's like *BAM* I'm having an intense thought process about whether this thing that's an integral part of my personality is actually some negative thing carried over or not. I've been watching Six Feet Under recently, and there's a scene in season 1 where Claire goes on this camping trip thing. One of the other girls on the trip fucks the guide leader, and when Claire asks her later why she fucked him, the girl says, "I don't know. To see if I could?" *BAM* Who the fuck saw this coming? Why don't I pause the show so I can figure out whether me liking to fuck is actually a desire of my own or some stupid coping strategy for not getting enough attention when I was growing up?

Willfulgirl gets waxed

Chronologically, about a week ago. Specifically, the pube area. I only did a bikini (sides) wax, not the full Brazilian (all the way up your butt crack as well, usually leaves just a "landing strip" of pubes on top). I like the full bush up top look.

It didn't hurt nearly as badly as I though it would. Said Now-hubby, "you've got your hood and your nipples pierced. How bad can a bit of hair removal be?" And results are fucking phenomenal. I really like it. Especially since I got a good tip off tumblr to use a refined sugar/olive oil exfoliant every day to reduce ingrown hairs.

I was planning to tell you all about it, and then I found this funny thing about pubes just now, so it reminded me.

And I probably love it more than you

Fun straight person fact: sometimes it is not enough to just be jealous of the other people in your SO's life. Sometimes you also have to be jealous of the activities your SO engages in, because they take time away from you. Even if your SO engages in these activities by themselves, so there is literally no risk of them meeting another person doing said activity and touching genitals with that other person.

Bonus points for cheese

I found myself giving dating advice to one of the frisbee people this weekend. Which is always an interesting concept for me, because generally my "advice" consists of, "I dunno. Why don't you do what the fuck you want to do?"

Seriously. In my experience, straight people get way invested in the whole dating thing. Which I guess sort of makes sense if you approach every single date or meeting with someone of the opposite sex as the possible meeting of that one person who is going to fulfill your every desire and be your one and only for the rest of time. You know, instead of just appreciating getting to know a new person and seeing if you have anything in common.

 

In any case, here's some decent advice about doing the dating thing. Also, there is a very funny clip about cheese.