One day. A day for rest. A day for relaxation. A day for love making. A day for treating ourselves. A day for each other. A day for reconnecting.
A week or so ago I suggested that we both arrange to play hooky from work for a day and I would book a massage for both of us and we would just relax and hang out. Yesterday was the day and we started out by heading out for a massage first thing in the morning. Grabbed a nice bite to eat in a little coffee shop downtown, did a bit of window shopping and panty buying (pour moi!) and headed home for a lazy afternoon of fucking and relaxing in the sun. We smoked a bit of weed and laid out on the lawn under our water mister and just dozed for an hour or so and then moved it inside to have some seriously needed and much anticipated fantastic sex. Good lord. Has it been that long? I felt like we were fucking like crazy, sex deprived fiends who were hungry for every bit of sexual thrill and satisfaction they could find.
And all was good with the world. Funny how sometimes it really is just that simple.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Crossing Lines (Part 3)
The question as to whether this action taken by Resident Manservant is compatible with my feelings is very intriguing to me and I've been working on understanding my answer to this question all week.
It is true that he and I had had a conversation discussing our rules of engagement only moments before he chose to break them. And one might think that this would cause a certain and undeniable amount of distrust within me. To jump to the end of the story first, I will say that I have no problem with Resident Manservant and what he has done. This was my initial and immediate response and I was very surprised by it.
That being said, I've been trying to understand why I feel that way. We have had threesomes before with a number of different people. My friend being one of them. She is the only person who we have invited into our bed more than once though. She is a very close friend and the three of us get along very well. Many similar interests, and at the very least a similar outlook and philosophy about life.
When R.M and I first started 'swinging' we laid out some fairly exclusive rules. 'Only Together' being the first and most important rule. We were never supposed to pursue any extra-curricular sexual activity without our partner by our side. This was something we wanted to experience together. We didn't want to swap partners with people. We wanted to participate in beautiful sex acts together--with another female or male joining us, or perhaps in a larger, orgy-oriented environment.
The last number of times we have had threesomes have been with my friend and I have always felt a bit like an accessory. While I am quite interested in playing with Miss Single in a sexual way, I have never felt like her interest in reciprocating is genuine. She plays along, but I've always felt that it was a bit of a ploy to get at the magnificent cock of my husband. Whether she is genuine in her play or not, my interest has really waned in terms of having sexual relations with her as I really feel like the third wheel in the exchange. I'm just along for the ride. More a spectator than a participant.
Resident Manservant and I talked about this before bed that night and I reiterated that I was not interested in pursuing a threesome. It just wasn't all that satisfying for me. I knew she wanted action--and she was hoping to get it from Mr. Moved Away, but that clearly wasn't going to happen. Therefore, I was not at all surprised to hear when I first opened my eyes in the morning from R.M. that he had fucked Miss Single after I fell asleep. And I didn't mind. Obviously, he had crossed a line. A line that we had very recently discussed and reiterated. But it was cool.
I guess a big part of this is that this wasn't some random chick. She is a close friend whom we both care very deeply for. And in some ways I'd rather that she fuck my husband instead of some random guy she might pick up at the bar or return to other past boyfriends or fuck buddies--people who don't really care about her or treat her particularly well. We have explored this relationship together and I've decided that I'm not getting what I need out of it and it's not quite the right thing for me. Now, I'm not sure how I'd feel if this continued on a regular basis. But that is more because I am worried about my friend and her ability to remain emotionally aware and neutral while having sex with my fantastic and totally lovable husband. I don't worry about my husband's ability to do the same, but I would hate for her to fall tragically in love with a man who will never love her in the way she is desperately hoping to be loved. In the way she deserves to be loved.
What this means now is that my feelings regarding our extra-curricular sexual activities have evolved. I think I'd like to find myself a fuck buddy. Someone I can be close with, someone I actually have something in common with aside from sex, someone who I might even be interested in dating if I didn't already have a primary relationship with a wonderful man. Someone I could date, fuck, hang out with, and explore with, all without commitment.
I haven't said that very eloquently, I know. But what I'd really like to explore is whether it's possible to find people to have meaningful relationships with whom I might also occasionally have sex with. Polyamory is the term that comes to mind. I don't know if it's possible. But I'd like to try.
It is true that he and I had had a conversation discussing our rules of engagement only moments before he chose to break them. And one might think that this would cause a certain and undeniable amount of distrust within me. To jump to the end of the story first, I will say that I have no problem with Resident Manservant and what he has done. This was my initial and immediate response and I was very surprised by it.
That being said, I've been trying to understand why I feel that way. We have had threesomes before with a number of different people. My friend being one of them. She is the only person who we have invited into our bed more than once though. She is a very close friend and the three of us get along very well. Many similar interests, and at the very least a similar outlook and philosophy about life.
When R.M and I first started 'swinging' we laid out some fairly exclusive rules. 'Only Together' being the first and most important rule. We were never supposed to pursue any extra-curricular sexual activity without our partner by our side. This was something we wanted to experience together. We didn't want to swap partners with people. We wanted to participate in beautiful sex acts together--with another female or male joining us, or perhaps in a larger, orgy-oriented environment.
The last number of times we have had threesomes have been with my friend and I have always felt a bit like an accessory. While I am quite interested in playing with Miss Single in a sexual way, I have never felt like her interest in reciprocating is genuine. She plays along, but I've always felt that it was a bit of a ploy to get at the magnificent cock of my husband. Whether she is genuine in her play or not, my interest has really waned in terms of having sexual relations with her as I really feel like the third wheel in the exchange. I'm just along for the ride. More a spectator than a participant.
Resident Manservant and I talked about this before bed that night and I reiterated that I was not interested in pursuing a threesome. It just wasn't all that satisfying for me. I knew she wanted action--and she was hoping to get it from Mr. Moved Away, but that clearly wasn't going to happen. Therefore, I was not at all surprised to hear when I first opened my eyes in the morning from R.M. that he had fucked Miss Single after I fell asleep. And I didn't mind. Obviously, he had crossed a line. A line that we had very recently discussed and reiterated. But it was cool.
I guess a big part of this is that this wasn't some random chick. She is a close friend whom we both care very deeply for. And in some ways I'd rather that she fuck my husband instead of some random guy she might pick up at the bar or return to other past boyfriends or fuck buddies--people who don't really care about her or treat her particularly well. We have explored this relationship together and I've decided that I'm not getting what I need out of it and it's not quite the right thing for me. Now, I'm not sure how I'd feel if this continued on a regular basis. But that is more because I am worried about my friend and her ability to remain emotionally aware and neutral while having sex with my fantastic and totally lovable husband. I don't worry about my husband's ability to do the same, but I would hate for her to fall tragically in love with a man who will never love her in the way she is desperately hoping to be loved. In the way she deserves to be loved.
What this means now is that my feelings regarding our extra-curricular sexual activities have evolved. I think I'd like to find myself a fuck buddy. Someone I can be close with, someone I actually have something in common with aside from sex, someone who I might even be interested in dating if I didn't already have a primary relationship with a wonderful man. Someone I could date, fuck, hang out with, and explore with, all without commitment.
I haven't said that very eloquently, I know. But what I'd really like to explore is whether it's possible to find people to have meaningful relationships with whom I might also occasionally have sex with. Polyamory is the term that comes to mind. I don't know if it's possible. But I'd like to try.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Crossing Lines (Part 2)
There are few lines in our relationship. While we explore certain boundaries of a sexuality together, one on one sexual contact with other women is out of the question. I do not have carte blanche, as some of my male confidantes thing, to be promiscuous. We are exploring life together.
So how then did I end up screwing my wifes best friend as she slept upstairs on our marriage bed? Good question.
The recipient of my extramarital carnality is a good friend of ours, the maid of honor at our wedding, and someone who over the past 2 years we have taken in to our bed together a handful of times. We both deeply care for her, and her for us. On so many surface levels a midnight tryst seems to run contrary to everything we profess to desire. It certainly wreaks havoc with the basic concept of trust.
But the reason I advocated with my wife to expand our sexual boundaries was based on a philosophical distinction I felt existed between relationships and physical love. The reason I can move outside the boundaries others adhere too is because, for me, the real essence of a strong relationship is entirely removed from sexual desires and behaviors. Our species, however we came into this present state, possesses a bizarre and complex psychology when it comes to our reproductive process. The intensity of those passions are frightening to some, and it seems to me that we cling to the stability of monogamy out of fear, to shed our responsibility for confronting that challenge. Much like our current societies ornamental attachment to the pretense of organized religion, people stay monogamous to maintain a status quo - because their friends are, because their parents did, because they have been lead to fear the alternative.
It is based on that understanding that I had no personal moral compunctions about fucking my wifes best friend. I, personally, have no issue with sharing that intimate physicality with someone who isn't my wife. I don't have any problems with my wife doing the same. Our relationship is based on a connection much deeper than the basic mechanics of genital interconnectedness. And we both have room in our hearts for other people as it is in our nature to reserve that one part that has created a unique spiritual connection with each other.
But perhaps I am being overly simplistic to support my romanticized self-image as a closet bohemian. What is an inescapable truth is that as early as just that evening it had been reiterated that this was simple something we do not do. It was not within our mutual comfort zone.
What pushed me to cross the line was a sincere feeling of empathy for the other woman. We already shared a deep connection - all three of us do. And she was feeling alone, isolated, envious of our stability, and deeply, deeply horny. I felt that with all we had said and done as a threesome it was the sort of thing that should be done. It would me hilariously tacky to say I felt obligated - I was highly aroused, intoxicated by multiple chemicals, and feeling deeply devious - but I did it because I needed to do it to be genuine to myself.
What remained to be seen was if following that path was compatible with my wifes feelings...
To be continued...
So how then did I end up screwing my wifes best friend as she slept upstairs on our marriage bed? Good question.
The recipient of my extramarital carnality is a good friend of ours, the maid of honor at our wedding, and someone who over the past 2 years we have taken in to our bed together a handful of times. We both deeply care for her, and her for us. On so many surface levels a midnight tryst seems to run contrary to everything we profess to desire. It certainly wreaks havoc with the basic concept of trust.
But the reason I advocated with my wife to expand our sexual boundaries was based on a philosophical distinction I felt existed between relationships and physical love. The reason I can move outside the boundaries others adhere too is because, for me, the real essence of a strong relationship is entirely removed from sexual desires and behaviors. Our species, however we came into this present state, possesses a bizarre and complex psychology when it comes to our reproductive process. The intensity of those passions are frightening to some, and it seems to me that we cling to the stability of monogamy out of fear, to shed our responsibility for confronting that challenge. Much like our current societies ornamental attachment to the pretense of organized religion, people stay monogamous to maintain a status quo - because their friends are, because their parents did, because they have been lead to fear the alternative.
It is based on that understanding that I had no personal moral compunctions about fucking my wifes best friend. I, personally, have no issue with sharing that intimate physicality with someone who isn't my wife. I don't have any problems with my wife doing the same. Our relationship is based on a connection much deeper than the basic mechanics of genital interconnectedness. And we both have room in our hearts for other people as it is in our nature to reserve that one part that has created a unique spiritual connection with each other.
But perhaps I am being overly simplistic to support my romanticized self-image as a closet bohemian. What is an inescapable truth is that as early as just that evening it had been reiterated that this was simple something we do not do. It was not within our mutual comfort zone.
What pushed me to cross the line was a sincere feeling of empathy for the other woman. We already shared a deep connection - all three of us do. And she was feeling alone, isolated, envious of our stability, and deeply, deeply horny. I felt that with all we had said and done as a threesome it was the sort of thing that should be done. It would me hilariously tacky to say I felt obligated - I was highly aroused, intoxicated by multiple chemicals, and feeling deeply devious - but I did it because I needed to do it to be genuine to myself.
What remained to be seen was if following that path was compatible with my wifes feelings...
To be continued...
Monday, June 18, 2007
Crossing Lines (Part 1)
Friday night we had a bit of a party at our house. I usually have my male friends over for some typical male bonding on fridays, but this past friday almost everyone was out of town. An important exception was a former regular to such events of male-centric nerdery but had since moved away. So while there were only three of us, it was a bit of a special occasion.
Domestic Goddess had meanwhile arranged for some serious wine drinking with one of her best friends, a beautiful woman we've occasionally taken into our bed. She was between relationships again, and feeling a little lonely. She also had a serious crush on my friend who was back in town, so while we planned to start the night segregated on gender and doing our own things we thought the night might have some potential.
And potential it had. Alcohol was consumed in substantial quantities and the evening progressed ever more ribald and racy. Discussions of our (otherwise kept in the closet) adventurous sex life were flaunted, although our special relationship with the present single woman was kept discreetly private. Once people had gotten down to their underwear on dares - the Goddess clad in her belly dancing scarf, replete with jingling coins (and oh my god was she beautiful) - I figured it was a slam dunk that Mr. Moved Away and Miss Single were bound to hook up.
Unfortunately Mr. Moved Away was a little inexperienced with alcohol and his only date for the rest of the night was with a porcelain mistress.
As my wife tended to the evaporating sick patient, I sat on the couch snuggling with our dear single friend. I was still in my boxers from the earlier silliness, and my third friend had since retired for home. It was not long before she was softly stroking my cock through my boxers and I instantly responded. "I'll be sleeping downstairs alone" she purred in my ear. "Your wife won't mind if you visit me."
While I've obviously had sex with her before, it was a very clear directive in my marriage that such one-on-one extracurricular activities were prohibited. It was about protecting ourselves from the perils that could accompany ill-advised romantic liaisons engaged in privately. Really, it was my wifes idea, I was very fond of the notion of cavalier free love screwing around. But trust comes from respecting boundaries, and even though myself and this beautiful woman had a history of flaunting that restriction we'd never crossed the line. But tonight, alone and frustrated, she was inviting me across.
And I crossed it.
The Goddess was exhausted, and despite my attempts to arouse her with a massage the alcohol and marijuana carried her off to a very deep slumber. I was extremely hard, and I contemplated masturbation to alleviate the temptation. But I knew I had an eager warm woman waiting for me down on my couch. I contrived a thousand different rationalizations in my mind and condom in hand I proceeded downstairs.
... to be continued
Domestic Goddess had meanwhile arranged for some serious wine drinking with one of her best friends, a beautiful woman we've occasionally taken into our bed. She was between relationships again, and feeling a little lonely. She also had a serious crush on my friend who was back in town, so while we planned to start the night segregated on gender and doing our own things we thought the night might have some potential.
And potential it had. Alcohol was consumed in substantial quantities and the evening progressed ever more ribald and racy. Discussions of our (otherwise kept in the closet) adventurous sex life were flaunted, although our special relationship with the present single woman was kept discreetly private. Once people had gotten down to their underwear on dares - the Goddess clad in her belly dancing scarf, replete with jingling coins (and oh my god was she beautiful) - I figured it was a slam dunk that Mr. Moved Away and Miss Single were bound to hook up.
Unfortunately Mr. Moved Away was a little inexperienced with alcohol and his only date for the rest of the night was with a porcelain mistress.
As my wife tended to the evaporating sick patient, I sat on the couch snuggling with our dear single friend. I was still in my boxers from the earlier silliness, and my third friend had since retired for home. It was not long before she was softly stroking my cock through my boxers and I instantly responded. "I'll be sleeping downstairs alone" she purred in my ear. "Your wife won't mind if you visit me."
While I've obviously had sex with her before, it was a very clear directive in my marriage that such one-on-one extracurricular activities were prohibited. It was about protecting ourselves from the perils that could accompany ill-advised romantic liaisons engaged in privately. Really, it was my wifes idea, I was very fond of the notion of cavalier free love screwing around. But trust comes from respecting boundaries, and even though myself and this beautiful woman had a history of flaunting that restriction we'd never crossed the line. But tonight, alone and frustrated, she was inviting me across.
And I crossed it.
The Goddess was exhausted, and despite my attempts to arouse her with a massage the alcohol and marijuana carried her off to a very deep slumber. I was extremely hard, and I contemplated masturbation to alleviate the temptation. But I knew I had an eager warm woman waiting for me down on my couch. I contrived a thousand different rationalizations in my mind and condom in hand I proceeded downstairs.
... to be continued
Monday, June 11, 2007
Tension and Frustration and an Absent Wife (again)
The Goddess is away on business again today and I am left to my own resources. This means extra work and atypically late hours, and it also means copious amounts of pornography and masturbation. Well, as copious as possible while being subtle as the Goddess' sister still lives with us.
I used to find my time alone on trips like this very satisfying, but recently I've found it mildly upsetting. Lately diet and exercise have fallen by the wayside, so that may be the cause of my psychic malaise, but I'm finding being alone frustrating. This is not a carnal concern, but one of...well...I don't know.
We recently have added running a balanced budget to our day to day program, and while diet and exercise have been neglected lately we ostensibly are still trying to remedy those long-standing oversights as well. Combine this with both of our work lives being over-stressed lately and we are one giant ball of anxiety. And as much as she annoys me, Domestic Goddess really is a rudder that keeps my ship sailing true in these choppy waters. We might not have the best coping mechanisms - marijuana consumption is on the rise, as is late night munchies - but we have a hell of a time doing them.
But there are other frustrations this creates, as neither of our libidos are doing so hot in the evening hours. We had an incredibly erotic conversation about threesomes today - actually discussing their downsides, which was exponentially more arousing that just sharing an idle fantasy. But if she were here right now I know our night would be declining into destressing, decompressing, smoking some pot, and just hanging out.
I need that, but what happened to the hot sex?
Compared to people who have no sex lives, I suppose our moderate sex life is nothing to complain about. But I find a lot of release in our erotic escapades, setting aside the obvious literal interpretation. I hope we can return to more ambitious adventures soon.
A Farmwife with a Twist was especially arousing today, if only because that is a forbidden place for the Goddess and I.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Away
Right now I am away on business. I don't usually mind being away on business so much. And I am in a cool city that I love to visit, so that makes things easier for me. I do know though that that is not the case for Resident Manservant. I know he finds things quite stressful when I'm away. I am not really sure why that is, but I think it's a combination of 'when the cat is away the mice come out to play...' or whatever that metaphor is. He stays up way too late reading comic books and masturbating, going to movies and goofing off on the internet because he thinks he can get away with it and he's bored. He really just ends up wearing himself down and stressing himself out. I wish he handled his time alone better. I worry about him when I'm gone.
He is home dealing with real life. And work. And the dogs. And my sister. And the house that he must have reasonably clean for me upon my return. This last one especially is the one that I worry about. Because oh. my. god. Sometimes the details escape him (Hi! Love you dear!!!). I know that the house falls to pieces when I'm away. The bathroom is a disaster. There are probably XBox controllers all over the living room. Dog toys all over the floors. Half chewed rawhide bones lurking in dark corners. And garbages needing to be taken out. The kitchen (if my estimates are correct) is probably looking like a whirlwind has struck and the kitchen cabinets are all -- and I do mean all of them -- wide open and the drawers are open and there are probably more than a few dishes and water glasses sitting around. And this is to say nothing of the laundry. The massive piles of laundry he somehow manages to accumulate in my absence.
To be fair, I don't really care what the house looks like when I'm gone. It's how well he manages to put things back together before I get home that concerns me. I am very particular about our house. I guess I'm house proud or something. But mostly, I just don't like having to clean up messes that I didn't make. And I'd love to be able to just walk in after being gone for 4 days and, oh, I don't know--fuck. Without abandon and without distraction.
And I get distracted by a dirty house. This is a prime example of my control issues coming out in full force. I can't help it. I'm defective.
On another note, I think I'm going to a gay bar tomorrow! Should be very interesting. A gay bar, you ask? I work in the field of HIV prevention/education. Many of the people I work with province wide are gay and one of them is taking a group of us to a gay bar. Good times will, I'm sure, be had by all.
He is home dealing with real life. And work. And the dogs. And my sister. And the house that he must have reasonably clean for me upon my return. This last one especially is the one that I worry about. Because oh. my. god. Sometimes the details escape him (Hi! Love you dear!!!). I know that the house falls to pieces when I'm away. The bathroom is a disaster. There are probably XBox controllers all over the living room. Dog toys all over the floors. Half chewed rawhide bones lurking in dark corners. And garbages needing to be taken out. The kitchen (if my estimates are correct) is probably looking like a whirlwind has struck and the kitchen cabinets are all -- and I do mean all of them -- wide open and the drawers are open and there are probably more than a few dishes and water glasses sitting around. And this is to say nothing of the laundry. The massive piles of laundry he somehow manages to accumulate in my absence.
To be fair, I don't really care what the house looks like when I'm gone. It's how well he manages to put things back together before I get home that concerns me. I am very particular about our house. I guess I'm house proud or something. But mostly, I just don't like having to clean up messes that I didn't make. And I'd love to be able to just walk in after being gone for 4 days and, oh, I don't know--fuck. Without abandon and without distraction.
And I get distracted by a dirty house. This is a prime example of my control issues coming out in full force. I can't help it. I'm defective.
On another note, I think I'm going to a gay bar tomorrow! Should be very interesting. A gay bar, you ask? I work in the field of HIV prevention/education. Many of the people I work with province wide are gay and one of them is taking a group of us to a gay bar. Good times will, I'm sure, be had by all.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Well THAT Was Wierd
She has been itching to try the speculum we impuse-bought on our order from the wonderful people at Blowfish. So after some frustration with our lack of sexual opportunity since our debauched birthday threesome She decided to pounce on me this morning.
Now, for some reason, I just don't much like morning sex. The physical functions work just fine, but my brain doesn't seem to pick up on penile pleasure before breakfast. I don't like masturbating before noon, either.
So we decided to take it slow and out came the speculum. And the flash light. And the digital camera. It was neat.
And then...
I fucked the speculum. Well, I guess I fucked her with the speculum in the way. So half of it was fleshy and half of it was metallic, and we relied on the locking mechanism to not slam closed on me.
It required delicacy, it required care, and it was really unusual. No complaints, but I question my innate urge to stick my dick in things.
Now, for some reason, I just don't much like morning sex. The physical functions work just fine, but my brain doesn't seem to pick up on penile pleasure before breakfast. I don't like masturbating before noon, either.
So we decided to take it slow and out came the speculum. And the flash light. And the digital camera. It was neat.
And then...
I fucked the speculum. Well, I guess I fucked her with the speculum in the way. So half of it was fleshy and half of it was metallic, and we relied on the locking mechanism to not slam closed on me.
It required delicacy, it required care, and it was really unusual. No complaints, but I question my innate urge to stick my dick in things.
Thursday, May 24, 2007
She Lies There
She lies next to me in bed, dressed only in her blue boy-short style panties. The duvet is just barely over her ample and gorgeous breasts. She is dozing off, avoiding house work to lie next to me. To be close to me. I cannot love her more than I love her right now.
Last weekend was her birthday and we drank to much wine. Her best friend came over late in the evening and we danced and drank and talked. And then at the time when the night meets the morning we all made love to each other, bodies draped over one another, the sound of leather on skin accentuating the moans of passion and lust.
An hour later the dawn is breaking. She has dozed off, exhausted, her vagina a soft and receding heat. Her friend is still hungry for more, and as she quietly slumbers we remain entwined in passion. I thrust myself deep inside this other woman and gaze on her sleeping face and wonder at her beauty. I cannot love her more than I love her right now.
Yesterday I had a nap. I awoke to her soft lips on my forehead. He voice was small in my ear. I cannot love her more than I love her right now.
Last weekend was her birthday and we drank to much wine. Her best friend came over late in the evening and we danced and drank and talked. And then at the time when the night meets the morning we all made love to each other, bodies draped over one another, the sound of leather on skin accentuating the moans of passion and lust.
An hour later the dawn is breaking. She has dozed off, exhausted, her vagina a soft and receding heat. Her friend is still hungry for more, and as she quietly slumbers we remain entwined in passion. I thrust myself deep inside this other woman and gaze on her sleeping face and wonder at her beauty. I cannot love her more than I love her right now.
Yesterday I had a nap. I awoke to her soft lips on my forehead. He voice was small in my ear. I cannot love her more than I love her right now.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Envy and Paranoia
I've been listening for a while to the Radio Blowfish Variety Show podcast, so first of all congrats to Heather on her big news from .. well, a few weeks ago. See, I listen to podcasts very deliberately. I don't like them as idle noise when I'm working, I use them as intellectual stimulus while accomplishing dreary tasks like mowing the lawn. So, belated yay Heather!
I really wish I had friends like the voices that come across on this podcast. Despite being flamboyantly perverted 90% of the time, I am secretly deeply ashamed of my sexual appetites. So much so that occasionally I regress into this sexless state - like, er, now. I want a community of sexually open friends to share orgasmic pursuits with. And I mean that more metaphorically than literally as I think I might be off multipartner sex. I have two close male friends I tell many things too, but its mostly to boost my ego as they are filled with envy. Thats pretty petty and kind of sick and fills me with loathing.
This blog, for me, was an attempt to better express my sexual identity but despite being a fairly decent non-sex blogger, I'm a terrible sex blogger. I peruse the blogosphere and want to crawl into a hole. It makes me feel like I'm in grade 8 again.
That feeling is 100% self-generated, of course.
But dodging past the self loathing for a moment, despite our recent shopping spree our sex life has been pretty absent lately, and I think it is a knee-jerk reaction to the repressive place we live in. Its frustrating, and makes me pretty sad on the inside. Its all related to stress and pressure and honestly I think my desire to cut back on marijuana has really added to it. But I feel kind of trapped, and I wish someone would just come along and rip be out of this idle, sexless existence.
Maybe once the strap on comes in that will happen.
I really wish I had friends like the voices that come across on this podcast. Despite being flamboyantly perverted 90% of the time, I am secretly deeply ashamed of my sexual appetites. So much so that occasionally I regress into this sexless state - like, er, now. I want a community of sexually open friends to share orgasmic pursuits with. And I mean that more metaphorically than literally as I think I might be off multipartner sex. I have two close male friends I tell many things too, but its mostly to boost my ego as they are filled with envy. Thats pretty petty and kind of sick and fills me with loathing.
This blog, for me, was an attempt to better express my sexual identity but despite being a fairly decent non-sex blogger, I'm a terrible sex blogger. I peruse the blogosphere and want to crawl into a hole. It makes me feel like I'm in grade 8 again.
That feeling is 100% self-generated, of course.
But dodging past the self loathing for a moment, despite our recent shopping spree our sex life has been pretty absent lately, and I think it is a knee-jerk reaction to the repressive place we live in. Its frustrating, and makes me pretty sad on the inside. Its all related to stress and pressure and honestly I think my desire to cut back on marijuana has really added to it. But I feel kind of trapped, and I wish someone would just come along and rip be out of this idle, sexless existence.
Maybe once the strap on comes in that will happen.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Sexy Shopping Spree
A week or so ago we went on a shopping spree. Unlike our regular shopping sprees this was a sexy shopping spree and several hundred dollars later we are anxiously awaiting the arrival of our new sex toys. Finances are tight around here, but let's be honest--sometimes you need to invest in your sex life. We've been teetering on the edge of obscurity and dissatisfaction for a while now. Every couple goes through phases in their sexuality. Lately the sex that we do have is really satisfying and even a little more kinky than usual, but we just don't have nearly enough of it. Have we just gotten lazy? Complacent? I think so. We just don't try very hard to have an outstanding sex life. We used to be the couple who would intentionally see movies in theatres that we had no interest in seeing just so we could make-out in the back. We would seek out unusual places to have sex. We were very proud of our sexually adventurous selves. We had stories to tell. Now, the stories we tell consist of long ago happenings and we need to do something. We need an intervention. Ugh. We have turned into an old-married couple.
We shopped at a sex toy store online. The purchases themselves, I hope, will allow us to further explore our sexuality and push our limits. Some are for me, some are for him. But I'm pretty sure that we will both have fun with all of them.
I've been in a 'pain' phase lately. I'm enjoying being exploited. Pushed. My selections are:
A Ball Gag. I think the rationale here is pretty obvious. I want to be tied up, I want him to take me against my will, I want to struggle and feel helpless. I want to be controlled. I want Resident Manservant to mount me and ride me as hard as he can and pay no mind to my screams of intense pleasure mixed with equal parts pain.
Also handy for those times when I'm really loud and my sister is home. I'm sure she will appreciate this purchase.
Nipple Clips. I have always loved nipple and breast torture. When I first started masturbating, I focused a lot on my breasts. I would bind them using shoe laces. I would use a pen or something long and straight and thread it through the laces between my breasts and twist it to add tension. I used clothes pins. I used hair-ties to wrap my nipples. When you're 14 with no money--you can be pretty resourceful. My old nipple clips are worn out and I needed new ones.
Skin Prickler. I don't exactly what to expect from this one. But I can imagine being tied up, so I can't struggle or squirm too much. I can imagine being flogged or spanked to increase sensitivity all over my body. I can imagine being teased with ice water, or wax. I can imagine this prickler being rolled gently over my body. And then not so gently. I can imagine wanting it to stop while at the same time wanting him to go harder....oh, goddess....I can hardly wait.
The Flogger. This is really for both of us. It's hard to see in the picture, but one side of this flogger is made of leather. For a nice strong, stinging, spanking sensation. The other side is covered in a soft, fleecy fabric. Resident Manservant enjoys having his ass spanked. I enjoy spanking it. I enjoy being spanked. And when you think you've had enough, flip it over and massage gently with the soft side until you recover and are ready for more. I can already feel the tension mounting within us. I can hear my own whimpering and I will be begging him to stop. And he won't. He will keep pushing me.
Butt Plugs. This is a therapy toy for me. I once had a sexual partner who pushed me just a little too far, too fast when it came to anal sex. I've never been the same since. I know I can enjoy anal sex. But I have this mental block that I just haven't been able to work out. I have this double penetration fantasy and I don't think I'll ever be able to go there if I don't get over this mental block when it comes to things in my ass.
I'm sure Manservant will enjoy this one too. He likes his ass. And likes things in it. We can share.
Smart Balls. Every woman has heard that the key to having mind blowing orgasms is to have strong PC muscles. These things are meant to be whenever you want--even all day. They are subtle. The other key to mid-blowing orgasms is to be ultra stimulated. And These little beasties will take care of that quite handily. Resident Manservant has suggested that the thought of me walking around all day at work with these things in my pussy will be more than enough to wind him up quite nicely. I'm not exactly sure how they work, but I think it is essentially a ball within a ball that allows for a natural amount of vibration and stimulation.
Now his selections:
A double-ended dildo. Resident Manservant wants to be fucked by his wife. This double-ended dildo will allow me to do just that. One end will fit into my vagina and the other end will be used for anal penetration. I have to say I am really nervous about this one. I've never been the 'fucker' before....only the 'fuckee'. I'm totally willing to give it a shot though.
He adds:
A Harness. This is a necessity, given the above selection. Looks awesome and it's supposed to be really comfortable.
He adds:
A speculum. Somebody wants to play doctor. I ordered a large. I think I'll enjoy this as much as he will.
He adds:
We shopped at a sex toy store online. The purchases themselves, I hope, will allow us to further explore our sexuality and push our limits. Some are for me, some are for him. But I'm pretty sure that we will both have fun with all of them.
I've been in a 'pain' phase lately. I'm enjoying being exploited. Pushed. My selections are:
A Ball Gag. I think the rationale here is pretty obvious. I want to be tied up, I want him to take me against my will, I want to struggle and feel helpless. I want to be controlled. I want Resident Manservant to mount me and ride me as hard as he can and pay no mind to my screams of intense pleasure mixed with equal parts pain.Also handy for those times when I'm really loud and my sister is home. I'm sure she will appreciate this purchase.
Nipple Clips. I have always loved nipple and breast torture. When I first started masturbating, I focused a lot on my breasts. I would bind them using shoe laces. I would use a pen or something long and straight and thread it through the laces between my breasts and twist it to add tension. I used clothes pins. I used hair-ties to wrap my nipples. When you're 14 with no money--you can be pretty resourceful. My old nipple clips are worn out and I needed new ones.
Skin Prickler. I don't exactly what to expect from this one. But I can imagine being tied up, so I can't struggle or squirm too much. I can imagine being flogged or spanked to increase sensitivity all over my body. I can imagine being teased with ice water, or wax. I can imagine this prickler being rolled gently over my body. And then not so gently. I can imagine wanting it to stop while at the same time wanting him to go harder....oh, goddess....I can hardly wait.
The Flogger. This is really for both of us. It's hard to see in the picture, but one side of this flogger is made of leather. For a nice strong, stinging, spanking sensation. The other side is covered in a soft, fleecy fabric. Resident Manservant enjoys having his ass spanked. I enjoy spanking it. I enjoy being spanked. And when you think you've had enough, flip it over and massage gently with the soft side until you recover and are ready for more. I can already feel the tension mounting within us. I can hear my own whimpering and I will be begging him to stop. And he won't. He will keep pushing me.
Butt Plugs. This is a therapy toy for me. I once had a sexual partner who pushed me just a little too far, too fast when it came to anal sex. I've never been the same since. I know I can enjoy anal sex. But I have this mental block that I just haven't been able to work out. I have this double penetration fantasy and I don't think I'll ever be able to go there if I don't get over this mental block when it comes to things in my ass.I'm sure Manservant will enjoy this one too. He likes his ass. And likes things in it. We can share.
Smart Balls. Every woman has heard that the key to having mind blowing orgasms is to have strong PC muscles. These things are meant to be whenever you want--even all day. They are subtle. The other key to mid-blowing orgasms is to be ultra stimulated. And These little beasties will take care of that quite handily. Resident Manservant has suggested that the thought of me walking around all day at work with these things in my pussy will be more than enough to wind him up quite nicely. I'm not exactly sure how they work, but I think it is essentially a ball within a ball that allows for a natural amount of vibration and stimulation.Now his selections:
A double-ended dildo. Resident Manservant wants to be fucked by his wife. This double-ended dildo will allow me to do just that. One end will fit into my vagina and the other end will be used for anal penetration. I have to say I am really nervous about this one. I've never been the 'fucker' before....only the 'fuckee'. I'm totally willing to give it a shot though.He adds:
I've done a lot of fucking in my day. And I do a lot of masturbating on the side. During one adventurous masturbation session (stoned AND drunk) while the Goddess was out of work on business I stuck a dildo up there. Curiosity had gotten the better of me. Once I got past the pain (the booze and weed helped) I realized that people did this for a reason. A good reason. A great reason.
I think the last American Pie movie and an associated Nurse fetish really planted this in my brain as something to do.
A Harness. This is a necessity, given the above selection. Looks awesome and it's supposed to be really comfortable.He adds:
As recommended on the Blowfish podcast which you should all listen to. How many podcasts help you have better orgasms?
A speculum. Somebody wants to play doctor. I ordered a large. I think I'll enjoy this as much as he will.He adds:
I don't even know what I'm going to do with this. But I want to try.
Wednesday, May 02, 2007
Talking, and Patience
The problem I have is patience. We have been talking dirty to each other all day. I was sitting in a room of hundreds of people when the cellphone buzzes.
It's not that I have a problem with the idea, its the implementation that I have problems with. I have no patience - I go straight for my orgasm and bowl over anything that gets in my way. Any perversions we choose to share are usually minimal endeavors to fill the foreplay time. To get me excited. Once excited I just want to get on and ride it out.
I know from reading about BDSM that it can be so much better than this, and I can feel so much energy when sexually aroused that I know working to capture it, channel it, mold it, can only have positive outcomes. But I'm so used to just racing towards the finish, to the sublime thrill of the orgasm, the ejaculation, that I can't stop. I think I'm addicted. Semen is my inverse heroin. I need to my next hit. I need it now.
I'm not sure how I will break this cycle. I still idly masturbate to extreme pornography just to fill the time some days, just to say I did. I think I actually abuse my own sexuality, take it for granted. It is an end, not a means, not a sublime spiritual experience fueled out of the primal creative instincts of the universe. I don't respect it. I don't respect myself.
I want tonight to be something special. I want to have sex for hours and hours and not be a slave to the tyranny of hydraulics. I want to take her and use her and abuse her and make her my little slut and know that she loves me for it. Because I could never love another woman the way I love her and I want to give her everything she wants.
I want to be punished
It's not that I have a problem with the idea, its the implementation that I have problems with. I have no patience - I go straight for my orgasm and bowl over anything that gets in my way. Any perversions we choose to share are usually minimal endeavors to fill the foreplay time. To get me excited. Once excited I just want to get on and ride it out.
My body. I want you to abuse it.
I know from reading about BDSM that it can be so much better than this, and I can feel so much energy when sexually aroused that I know working to capture it, channel it, mold it, can only have positive outcomes. But I'm so used to just racing towards the finish, to the sublime thrill of the orgasm, the ejaculation, that I can't stop. I think I'm addicted. Semen is my inverse heroin. I need to my next hit. I need it now.
you need to fuck me tonight.
I'm not sure how I will break this cycle. I still idly masturbate to extreme pornography just to fill the time some days, just to say I did. I think I actually abuse my own sexuality, take it for granted. It is an end, not a means, not a sublime spiritual experience fueled out of the primal creative instincts of the universe. I don't respect it. I don't respect myself.
we need to go shopping tonight
for sex toys
online
I want tonight to be something special. I want to have sex for hours and hours and not be a slave to the tyranny of hydraulics. I want to take her and use her and abuse her and make her my little slut and know that she loves me for it. Because I could never love another woman the way I love her and I want to give her everything she wants.
Exploitation
I want to be sexually exploited by my man. Used. Abused. Raped. I don't know exactly where this recent urge has come from--but I suppose that is a post for another day. A week or so ago we somehow ended up role-playing a rape fantasy of sorts and it was fantastic. And since then my need for this kind of attention is on the rise. I am craving it. There is something about being wanted so badly, so desperately, by a man that he is willing to do anything to fuck me. Makes my pussy quiver.
We've been discussing what this means to me--what kind of abuse is it that I want? How do I want to be used? BDSM and rape fantasies aren't the same thing, so do I want to be dominated or 'raped'? I don't want to have a really ugly and violent experience, necessarily. I want to be forced and I want to struggle. But I want to be fucked like a guy might fuck his girlfriend. Except I'm not his girlfriend and I don't want to be fucked. That sounds like a good scenario to start with.
We've been discussing what this means to me--what kind of abuse is it that I want? How do I want to be used? BDSM and rape fantasies aren't the same thing, so do I want to be dominated or 'raped'? I don't want to have a really ugly and violent experience, necessarily. I want to be forced and I want to struggle. But I want to be fucked like a guy might fuck his girlfriend. Except I'm not his girlfriend and I don't want to be fucked. That sounds like a good scenario to start with.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Chemistry
A lazy Saturday trip to the mall - we bought some new towels and a giant clock for the home theatre - was followed by an afternoon watching porn. We cracked a bottle of wine - a white Viognier Grenache blend - and downed it to the first half hour of Chemistry Volume 1. This is a unique film that seems to try to exploit the worlds current fascination with reality television but instead serves as a pseudo-documentary that allows you to create some real empathy with the actors, which makes it a billion times hotter than most adult films.
After the wine (about 30 minutes for the bottle) we started with various sexual activities - the Goddess gave some fantastic head, much above her usual efforts, inspired by the film - and proceeded to get interactive with the next hour of the film. We were spent much earlier than the people in the film and there was still an hour left when we retired for a smoke and to assemble dinner.
We had some interesting conversations before/during/after the sex - mostly around inhibitions and a desire to be free of them. I was astonished to find myself watching an incredibly hot threesome where one of the girls was pegging the man, and we talked about the conflicting emotions we have around anal pleasure - she hates me thinking about her ass, I get extremely uncomfortable with enjoying her putting things in mine.
It wasn't a conversation that lent itself to a conclusion, but it did bring renewed awareness on my part to the deep parts of the psyche attached to sex and the way we are trained to be uncomfortable with how our bodies can bring ourselves and others pleasure. While the vast majority of the population would be uncomfortable on the surface with this idea, we'd all be a lot happier if we all fucked each other a little more often I think.
But it is a complex issue, and I suppose I'm being dismissive about its deep implications. It was really fun and refreshing to watch an adult film where the participants discuss how they have actually enjoyed each other, and (if very briefly) touch on their own emotional processes that let them explore sex in ways that fill me envy just as much as I'm sure they fill George W. Bush with rage.
Perhaps someday we'll reach a place where we can be comfortable renewing a lifestyle of exploring sexual pleasure with others in our community, but as the buzz from the wine rolls off my brain I remember all the fear, isolation, and paranoia previous explorations have left me with.
After the wine (about 30 minutes for the bottle) we started with various sexual activities - the Goddess gave some fantastic head, much above her usual efforts, inspired by the film - and proceeded to get interactive with the next hour of the film. We were spent much earlier than the people in the film and there was still an hour left when we retired for a smoke and to assemble dinner.
We had some interesting conversations before/during/after the sex - mostly around inhibitions and a desire to be free of them. I was astonished to find myself watching an incredibly hot threesome where one of the girls was pegging the man, and we talked about the conflicting emotions we have around anal pleasure - she hates me thinking about her ass, I get extremely uncomfortable with enjoying her putting things in mine.
It wasn't a conversation that lent itself to a conclusion, but it did bring renewed awareness on my part to the deep parts of the psyche attached to sex and the way we are trained to be uncomfortable with how our bodies can bring ourselves and others pleasure. While the vast majority of the population would be uncomfortable on the surface with this idea, we'd all be a lot happier if we all fucked each other a little more often I think.
But it is a complex issue, and I suppose I'm being dismissive about its deep implications. It was really fun and refreshing to watch an adult film where the participants discuss how they have actually enjoyed each other, and (if very briefly) touch on their own emotional processes that let them explore sex in ways that fill me envy just as much as I'm sure they fill George W. Bush with rage.
Perhaps someday we'll reach a place where we can be comfortable renewing a lifestyle of exploring sexual pleasure with others in our community, but as the buzz from the wine rolls off my brain I remember all the fear, isolation, and paranoia previous explorations have left me with.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
What Kind of Parent Will I Be?
| You Will Be a Cool Parent |
 You seem to naturally know a lot about parenting, and you know what kids need. You can tell when it's time to let kids off the hook, and when it's time to lay down the law. While your parenting is modern and hip, it's not over the top. You know that there's nothing cool about a parent who acts like a teenager... or a drill sergeant! |
Friday, April 06, 2007
Painting
I am watching the Domestic Goddess paint the bathroom right now, wearing nothing but her panties and an old Canadian Tire work shirt. When she is focused on the task at hand she prefers that I keep my hands to myself, but I want nothing more than to grab her from behind, pressing her against the wall and into the fresh paint. I'd slide her panties down to the floor and begin rubbing her from behind. She would spin, and push me into the opposite wall, and then we'd fall to the floor wrapped in each others limbs.
Somewhere along the way the paint would errantly be kicked off the counter and splash all over our hot naked bodies and we would leave a most interesting imprint on the bathroom tile floor.
Somewhere along the way the paint would errantly be kicked off the counter and splash all over our hot naked bodies and we would leave a most interesting imprint on the bathroom tile floor.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Intention
She: I am so wound up now.
He: So what do you want to do about that?
She: Well later we can unwind and you can stick your fist in me.
He: I don't know if you can take it all...
She: Me neither, but it sure will be fun trying.
He: Want to do it when we get home?
She: No, thats not something I can do with my sister awake and alert.
( her inspiration )
He: So what do you want to do about that?
She: Well later we can unwind and you can stick your fist in me.
He: I don't know if you can take it all...
She: Me neither, but it sure will be fun trying.
He: Want to do it when we get home?
She: No, thats not something I can do with my sister awake and alert.
( her inspiration )
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Just How Messed Up Am I?
This is a question I have been asking myself alot lately. I've also spent a lot of time pondering just what it is that has brought on the sudden fit of insanity. At first, I chalked it up to stress: maybe from work, maybe from home, I don't know, but STRESS. But then, while in a sobbing heap of insecurity, Manservant questioned me about what the hell was going on and starting taking wild shots in the dark. I don't know that he's right, but part of me is seriously considering seeking out the services of a mental health professional.
One thing that came out of my rumpled heap of weapiness was that I don't know how to be happy. I don't even know exactly what I mean by that, but I know something isn't quite right. I have a hard time relaxing and enjoying the people and the things around me. It's always been that way, really. I love spending time in my house when it's spic-and-span clean.
I relish it, I do feel I truly enjoy that. I had this ritual when I first moved out of the house and started university. I would clean my room. Fresh sheets, laundry done, everything tidy. I would light up this old-fashioned oil lamp that I have and play a relaxation CD that sounded like a thunderstorm and just chill. Those were truly blissful time. I loved it. Sometimes I would just listen and imagine myself sitting in the middle of a rainstorm, getting drenched and feeling that peace pour over me. And on a truly magical day, there would be a real rainstorm and I'd go sit on the patio of my apartment and soak it all in. Other times I would masturbate furiously the way only a single girl can.
We still listen to that CD every night when we go to bed, but it just doesn't have the same impact now as it did then. Because my room now is never that clean, never that organized, never that peaceful. I think that's it really. I long for that feeling of peace.
I used to do the same thing at every school break--I would spend a whole day cleaning and reorganizing my room. I would rearrange furniture, I would dust, wash walls, clear out old school assignments that I didn't need to keep any longer. My room was always spotless, everything in it's place, bed made and blankets smoothed flat. Once I bought my own house and was renting rooms to other students I got even crazier about it. Suddenly there were 3 other people in the house making messes and leaving them for later. Didn't matter whether it was dishes or laundry or pizza boxes--the very presence of these things caused me to exist in this constant state of a simmering rage. I just couldn't let it go--I was not very popular with any of my roommates, but I really didn't give a shit. It was my house and I wanted it clean. Even if I had to clean it myself (which I did).
Not much has changed. I still obsess about cleaning. I still alienate those I live with. I don't really mean to, but I sincerely wish my husband 'understood' me when it comes to this stuff. He doesn't really. He stands by the whole 'I'm a man. It doesn't look dirty to me so I have no intention of cleaning it.' Where my philosophy is more along the lines of 'oh, the kitchen hasn't been vaccumed yet today--better get to it.'
I don't know if any of this relates to my current state of mental dysfunction. I can't help but think it does.
The second thing, and probably the more interesting point to be making, is that I am experiencing a tremendous amount of pressure to perform when it comes to weight loss. Manservant and I have discussed frequently how important it is for me to lose weight. I am beyond overweight--I have about 70 pounds to lose before I hit my weight loss target and I would love to do as much of this work as possible before trying to get pregnant. There is tons of information around about obesity and fertility and I am scared to death that infertility is going to be a problem for me. My mom had many miscarriages and in the end had 3 girls each spread 5 years apart. Combine this with the fact that I am nearly 30 and I'm freaking out. I feel like this is my last kick at the can. If I fuck it up now, I'm, well, fucked.
Now, I know that this is not something that is written in stone. I haven't signed some kind of blood oath promising to get skinny before bearing children. I want to lose weight before getting pregnant, I really do.
There is one more piece to the puzzle. I do not want to become either my sister or my mother. Their lives are completely out of control. They behave as if they have no control over their destiny and sometimes I can't help but wonder if they believe it too. They are victims. It is everyone else who has screwed up somehow, but never them. They live in a constant state of chaos. Sometimes this chaos means that the Christmas turkey doesn't make it out of the oven until way after it's done. Other times the chaos means that your living room blinds have been completely mutilated by your 2 year old and you've done absolutely nothing to stop it or to fix it. You're content living with these total ghetto blinds.
Not me. Not ever. My turkey is always done to perfection and the entire meal planned to the T. My blinds are never fucked. And I did not get pregnant well before I ever intended to. Because you see, I didn't want to get pregnant, so I went about dealing with this in a responsible fashion. I used birth control.
I do not want to be like the other women in my family. And the thing that's scaring the hell out of me right now is that I am feeling just as unstable as they are in some ways. I keep my life pieced together far more effectively than either of them ever have. But how long can I maintain it? How long can I go before I crack?
We're about to find out.
One thing that came out of my rumpled heap of weapiness was that I don't know how to be happy. I don't even know exactly what I mean by that, but I know something isn't quite right. I have a hard time relaxing and enjoying the people and the things around me. It's always been that way, really. I love spending time in my house when it's spic-and-span clean.
I relish it, I do feel I truly enjoy that. I had this ritual when I first moved out of the house and started university. I would clean my room. Fresh sheets, laundry done, everything tidy. I would light up this old-fashioned oil lamp that I have and play a relaxation CD that sounded like a thunderstorm and just chill. Those were truly blissful time. I loved it. Sometimes I would just listen and imagine myself sitting in the middle of a rainstorm, getting drenched and feeling that peace pour over me. And on a truly magical day, there would be a real rainstorm and I'd go sit on the patio of my apartment and soak it all in. Other times I would masturbate furiously the way only a single girl can.
We still listen to that CD every night when we go to bed, but it just doesn't have the same impact now as it did then. Because my room now is never that clean, never that organized, never that peaceful. I think that's it really. I long for that feeling of peace.
I used to do the same thing at every school break--I would spend a whole day cleaning and reorganizing my room. I would rearrange furniture, I would dust, wash walls, clear out old school assignments that I didn't need to keep any longer. My room was always spotless, everything in it's place, bed made and blankets smoothed flat. Once I bought my own house and was renting rooms to other students I got even crazier about it. Suddenly there were 3 other people in the house making messes and leaving them for later. Didn't matter whether it was dishes or laundry or pizza boxes--the very presence of these things caused me to exist in this constant state of a simmering rage. I just couldn't let it go--I was not very popular with any of my roommates, but I really didn't give a shit. It was my house and I wanted it clean. Even if I had to clean it myself (which I did).
Not much has changed. I still obsess about cleaning. I still alienate those I live with. I don't really mean to, but I sincerely wish my husband 'understood' me when it comes to this stuff. He doesn't really. He stands by the whole 'I'm a man. It doesn't look dirty to me so I have no intention of cleaning it.' Where my philosophy is more along the lines of 'oh, the kitchen hasn't been vaccumed yet today--better get to it.'
I don't know if any of this relates to my current state of mental dysfunction. I can't help but think it does.
The second thing, and probably the more interesting point to be making, is that I am experiencing a tremendous amount of pressure to perform when it comes to weight loss. Manservant and I have discussed frequently how important it is for me to lose weight. I am beyond overweight--I have about 70 pounds to lose before I hit my weight loss target and I would love to do as much of this work as possible before trying to get pregnant. There is tons of information around about obesity and fertility and I am scared to death that infertility is going to be a problem for me. My mom had many miscarriages and in the end had 3 girls each spread 5 years apart. Combine this with the fact that I am nearly 30 and I'm freaking out. I feel like this is my last kick at the can. If I fuck it up now, I'm, well, fucked.
Now, I know that this is not something that is written in stone. I haven't signed some kind of blood oath promising to get skinny before bearing children. I want to lose weight before getting pregnant, I really do.
There is one more piece to the puzzle. I do not want to become either my sister or my mother. Their lives are completely out of control. They behave as if they have no control over their destiny and sometimes I can't help but wonder if they believe it too. They are victims. It is everyone else who has screwed up somehow, but never them. They live in a constant state of chaos. Sometimes this chaos means that the Christmas turkey doesn't make it out of the oven until way after it's done. Other times the chaos means that your living room blinds have been completely mutilated by your 2 year old and you've done absolutely nothing to stop it or to fix it. You're content living with these total ghetto blinds.
Not me. Not ever. My turkey is always done to perfection and the entire meal planned to the T. My blinds are never fucked. And I did not get pregnant well before I ever intended to. Because you see, I didn't want to get pregnant, so I went about dealing with this in a responsible fashion. I used birth control.
I do not want to be like the other women in my family. And the thing that's scaring the hell out of me right now is that I am feeling just as unstable as they are in some ways. I keep my life pieced together far more effectively than either of them ever have. But how long can I maintain it? How long can I go before I crack?
We're about to find out.
Friday, March 30, 2007
I hate it when life steps between my wife and my penis.
It has been a sexless week. Stepping up the weight loss initiative we've being going to the gym at 5:30 AM twice a week. This has pretty much killed entirely the rest of life as we know it aside from the basics of work and rudimentary chores. We are, essentially, mindless zombies. And even with Peter Jackson to the contrary, mindless zombies don't fuck.
But the Goddess was out of town one night for work and we got really saucy on the gTalk talking about her getting a strap on and fucking me in the ass. I don't know how I discovered anal play being enjoyable - probably one of those hey I'll try anything moments - but for the most part she doesn't indulge me in such stimulation. It's not a bisexuality fantasy thing as I've proven to my satisfaction that I'm pretty much entirely heterosexual. I'm just a kinky bastard.
We've been listening to the Radio Blowfish Variety Show and like what we hear. Why couldn't we have friends in the real world like this? Oh, right, we live in hell. Anyway, they recommended a good harness for such activities but I'm concerned about sizing on my plus-sized lover. I can't say I ever imagined I'd write the email I'm about to write. Life is beautiful.
But the Goddess was out of town one night for work and we got really saucy on the gTalk talking about her getting a strap on and fucking me in the ass. I don't know how I discovered anal play being enjoyable - probably one of those hey I'll try anything moments - but for the most part she doesn't indulge me in such stimulation. It's not a bisexuality fantasy thing as I've proven to my satisfaction that I'm pretty much entirely heterosexual. I'm just a kinky bastard.
We've been listening to the Radio Blowfish Variety Show and like what we hear. Why couldn't we have friends in the real world like this? Oh, right, we live in hell. Anyway, they recommended a good harness for such activities but I'm concerned about sizing on my plus-sized lover. I can't say I ever imagined I'd write the email I'm about to write. Life is beautiful.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Courage in the Face of Others
The Domestic Goddess and I really have communication down to an art. We can talk about anything. Now this doesn't preempt the typical, farcical, marital spats that stem out of a lack of communication that to others would be totally obvious. I said we know how to talk, not that we can change the innate nature and qualities of a heterosexual relationship.
In the past we've had lots and lots of conversations about our sexual fantasies, our desires, our fetishes, our curiosities. The chats have been deeply erotic and have lead to frantic and intense love making. However, its typically been very vanilla love making. Hey, no harm in that.
There are two unique subcategories of failed fetishism that deserve explicit discussion though. First is bondage and BDSM. We really wanted to try this and we did, and while we discovered that she does really get off on feeling confined (gaffing tape was best) actual sessions of domination or submission intended to heighten the pleasure just left us cold. Literally. We even tried turning up the heat. You just get cold and bored and while the spanking of flogging is hot for 5 minutes you just get sore and achey and the mind goes on a little siesta.
And then there is the swinging. That is a fucking novel right there that is. I'll jump straight to the tl;dr; and summarize that while we have had some hot as hell threesomes, and feel that the more very well could be the merrier, all adherents in group sex we have met have put us off our eros. Boo. Fucking boo. My wife is all for having another girl in bed and I can't fucking find one that doesn't make me feel like I'm just being promiscuous.
Now thats an important last sentence, because this really could be entirely in my head. This could all be a me or an us thing. But I think there is a big difference between being promiscuous and being sexually adventurous.
I've been reading a lot of sexblogs lately, and I'm really fucking annoyed that we don't have the bravery to be sexual extroverts. I don't know what I/we need to do: work through personal issues? Compromise mental models of integrity? Keep it in my head while I masturbate to videos of orgies comprised of 19 year old drug addicts desperate for a dollar simultaneously selling out my dignity and exploiting young women ALL THE WHILE having a hell of an orgasm into a towel?
I wish a solution was more apparent, but exploring sexual themes touched deep into the psyche, and all the insecurity I have left in life seems to live right next to that place.
But its bloody annoying, I'll have you know.
In the past we've had lots and lots of conversations about our sexual fantasies, our desires, our fetishes, our curiosities. The chats have been deeply erotic and have lead to frantic and intense love making. However, its typically been very vanilla love making. Hey, no harm in that.
There are two unique subcategories of failed fetishism that deserve explicit discussion though. First is bondage and BDSM. We really wanted to try this and we did, and while we discovered that she does really get off on feeling confined (gaffing tape was best) actual sessions of domination or submission intended to heighten the pleasure just left us cold. Literally. We even tried turning up the heat. You just get cold and bored and while the spanking of flogging is hot for 5 minutes you just get sore and achey and the mind goes on a little siesta.
And then there is the swinging. That is a fucking novel right there that is. I'll jump straight to the tl;dr; and summarize that while we have had some hot as hell threesomes, and feel that the more very well could be the merrier, all adherents in group sex we have met have put us off our eros. Boo. Fucking boo. My wife is all for having another girl in bed and I can't fucking find one that doesn't make me feel like I'm just being promiscuous.
Now thats an important last sentence, because this really could be entirely in my head. This could all be a me or an us thing. But I think there is a big difference between being promiscuous and being sexually adventurous.
I've been reading a lot of sexblogs lately, and I'm really fucking annoyed that we don't have the bravery to be sexual extroverts. I don't know what I/we need to do: work through personal issues? Compromise mental models of integrity? Keep it in my head while I masturbate to videos of orgies comprised of 19 year old drug addicts desperate for a dollar simultaneously selling out my dignity and exploiting young women ALL THE WHILE having a hell of an orgasm into a towel?
I wish a solution was more apparent, but exploring sexual themes touched deep into the psyche, and all the insecurity I have left in life seems to live right next to that place.
But its bloody annoying, I'll have you know.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
I love my wife
I just wanted to post and say I love my wife. That might sound rather self indulgent, but its important to say because I really love her that damn much. I don't think people accept those kind of declarations as necessary, but they are wrong. It needs to be repeated loud and often: I love my wife, she is extremely special to me, and no - you can't have her.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Thoughts for Later Elaboration
- A item is good only in so much as to the degree it introduces joy into your life.
- The bringing of joy is only found within the act of experience, and this experience must be driven out of a motivation to experience wonder. If you attempt to experience something without this sense of wonder, you are guaranteed to find tedium at the most essential levels.
- In agrarian societies, articles that would evoke this sense of wonder were quite rare, and had to be produced via the combined effort of dozens of individuals. It was a literal scarcity, which is difficult to understand unless you are forced to experience it.
- Due of the effort required to produce it, the strength of character to produce the art was of incredible magnitude. Thus, those who could appreciate the art were given elevated status of a sort. This is the most fundamental capitalist relationship of supply and demand.
- As the standard of living rose in the west, entertainment has managed to penetrate to lower classes of society: the middle class, or the poor, for example. Because of the lack of effort involved in experiencing entertainment, it is trivial to consume such things without digesting them, the next replacement is easier to obtain.
- However, one need not be of any economic status to learn to appreciate things. And it is in the appreciation of these things that true wealth, happiness, is found.
- The bringing of joy is only found within the act of experience, and this experience must be driven out of a motivation to experience wonder. If you attempt to experience something without this sense of wonder, you are guaranteed to find tedium at the most essential levels.
- In agrarian societies, articles that would evoke this sense of wonder were quite rare, and had to be produced via the combined effort of dozens of individuals. It was a literal scarcity, which is difficult to understand unless you are forced to experience it.
- Due of the effort required to produce it, the strength of character to produce the art was of incredible magnitude. Thus, those who could appreciate the art were given elevated status of a sort. This is the most fundamental capitalist relationship of supply and demand.
- As the standard of living rose in the west, entertainment has managed to penetrate to lower classes of society: the middle class, or the poor, for example. Because of the lack of effort involved in experiencing entertainment, it is trivial to consume such things without digesting them, the next replacement is easier to obtain.
- However, one need not be of any economic status to learn to appreciate things. And it is in the appreciation of these things that true wealth, happiness, is found.
Back to Reality
We've been fighting lately, a lot. A lot more than is usual for us. I know this has been mentioned previously, but it just seems like there is this tremendous strain on our relationship. Part financial, partly related to the whole issue of weight loss, part our own individual stresses relating to work. But it's getting to us. Our vacation seems like it was a lifetime ago already and in reality it's only been 2 weeks.
I'm on edge, he's on edge. We don't seem to be able to be there for each other in any real meaningful way. We aren't working well together as a team.
We have talked about it, of course. We are both feeling the same way. But what do we do about it? I'd like to focus on us--spend time together, do fun things, have loads of great sex, reconnect. I'm just feeling like there isn't enough of me to go around lately. I've been busy with work and I'm feeling like things at home are getting out of hand--the list of things that 'need' doing is getting longer by the minute. I say 'need' in this context because my version of things that are requiring attention is about a mile longer than his list of things that are needing attention. But where is the compromise? There has to be a way to make this work. But I'm getting to the point where I'm not relaxing at all and my stress is getting in the way of enjoying almost everything. I can't focus on the things I'd like to be focusing on right now either. We bought gym passes about a week ago and haven't tried them out yet because we haven't had time...or haven't chosen to spend our time at the gym. We are going to try to go in a couple of mornings a week. Neither of us are morning people and are doubtful as to how that is actually going to work, but I think it's far more likely that we can get in the habit of getting up early 2 days a week and getting it over with than heading back out to go after work or after dinner. It would be far nicer to be able to just settle our asses in front of the TV or something and not have to worry about the gym at all.
But all of these priorities--how the hell do people manage? I'm looking at my list of spring cleaning/organizing and thinking I need to take 2 days off of work to get it all done. But that seems crazy! I just hate having to spend every moment of my weekend dealing with shit like that. But it really should be done. It wouldn't be the end of the world if it weren't done, but seriously.....I know how dusty my house gets between cleaning--how can I leave my curtains unwashed any longer???
I have issues around cleaning and my house. I know that....and I'm trying to loosen up a bit. But I find that I spend more time convincing myself that I should let it go than it would take for me to just take care of it. I don't know where to find the balance.
I guess the biggest part of my frustration relates to all of these pressures I'm experiencing and feeling that I am the only one who is making an attempt to deal with them. I know that's not quite true--I'm not silly enough to think that this is happening in a vacuum or something. But I do feel like he can be an ostrich sometimes. At the same time, I know he's got all sorts of pressures as well--he's unhappy with work, he's worried about finances and when he's got down time it's downtime. Nothing gets in or through to him when he is in that head space.
Why can't every day be like a day spent with a Miami Vice in one hand and a good novel in the other while lapsing in and out of consciousness on the pool deck?
I'm on edge, he's on edge. We don't seem to be able to be there for each other in any real meaningful way. We aren't working well together as a team.
We have talked about it, of course. We are both feeling the same way. But what do we do about it? I'd like to focus on us--spend time together, do fun things, have loads of great sex, reconnect. I'm just feeling like there isn't enough of me to go around lately. I've been busy with work and I'm feeling like things at home are getting out of hand--the list of things that 'need' doing is getting longer by the minute. I say 'need' in this context because my version of things that are requiring attention is about a mile longer than his list of things that are needing attention. But where is the compromise? There has to be a way to make this work. But I'm getting to the point where I'm not relaxing at all and my stress is getting in the way of enjoying almost everything. I can't focus on the things I'd like to be focusing on right now either. We bought gym passes about a week ago and haven't tried them out yet because we haven't had time...or haven't chosen to spend our time at the gym. We are going to try to go in a couple of mornings a week. Neither of us are morning people and are doubtful as to how that is actually going to work, but I think it's far more likely that we can get in the habit of getting up early 2 days a week and getting it over with than heading back out to go after work or after dinner. It would be far nicer to be able to just settle our asses in front of the TV or something and not have to worry about the gym at all.
But all of these priorities--how the hell do people manage? I'm looking at my list of spring cleaning/organizing and thinking I need to take 2 days off of work to get it all done. But that seems crazy! I just hate having to spend every moment of my weekend dealing with shit like that. But it really should be done. It wouldn't be the end of the world if it weren't done, but seriously.....I know how dusty my house gets between cleaning--how can I leave my curtains unwashed any longer???
I have issues around cleaning and my house. I know that....and I'm trying to loosen up a bit. But I find that I spend more time convincing myself that I should let it go than it would take for me to just take care of it. I don't know where to find the balance.
I guess the biggest part of my frustration relates to all of these pressures I'm experiencing and feeling that I am the only one who is making an attempt to deal with them. I know that's not quite true--I'm not silly enough to think that this is happening in a vacuum or something. But I do feel like he can be an ostrich sometimes. At the same time, I know he's got all sorts of pressures as well--he's unhappy with work, he's worried about finances and when he's got down time it's downtime. Nothing gets in or through to him when he is in that head space.
Why can't every day be like a day spent with a Miami Vice in one hand and a good novel in the other while lapsing in and out of consciousness on the pool deck?
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Affairs of the Infernal
We watched a peculiar little movie tonight, Mou gann dou. You probably don't think you've ever heard of it, but many of you have seen the remake of it staring Leonardo di Caprio, Jack Nicholson, and Matt Damon. Its western name is Infernal Affairs, remade by Martin Scorsese as 4 time Oscar winning The Departed.
Infernal Affairs is extremely similar to The Departed, with notable changes being an extreme marginalization of the female characters. Indeed, they serve as only occasional exhibits of conscience, and in the case of the psychologist (who is not in this film the romantic love interest of the corrupt cop) a means for exposition from the protagonist.
Also, the ending is not nearly as neatly tied up as The Departed, and this is both good (I always thought Mark Wahlbergs' character was all sorts of Deux-ex-Machinaed cheap) and for ill (key plot points of the ending are reserved for subtitled exposition - lazy!).
Infernal Affairs is also more meditative on its characterization, offering snippets of Buddhist thought to bookend the film, creating a more lasting impression. The Departed, however, features a lot more snappy and entertaining dialogue.
I do think Infernal Affairs was the better film, but The Departed was slightly more enjoyable to just sit and watch. Art vs. gratification, I suppose. Either way, no reason to not just watch both, is there?
Infernal Affairs is extremely similar to The Departed, with notable changes being an extreme marginalization of the female characters. Indeed, they serve as only occasional exhibits of conscience, and in the case of the psychologist (who is not in this film the romantic love interest of the corrupt cop) a means for exposition from the protagonist.
Also, the ending is not nearly as neatly tied up as The Departed, and this is both good (I always thought Mark Wahlbergs' character was all sorts of Deux-ex-Machinaed cheap) and for ill (key plot points of the ending are reserved for subtitled exposition - lazy!).
Infernal Affairs is also more meditative on its characterization, offering snippets of Buddhist thought to bookend the film, creating a more lasting impression. The Departed, however, features a lot more snappy and entertaining dialogue.
I do think Infernal Affairs was the better film, but The Departed was slightly more enjoyable to just sit and watch. Art vs. gratification, I suppose. Either way, no reason to not just watch both, is there?
And....FIGHT!
Lately we've been fighting a lot. We've also not been blogging much, as you've seen, and I think it all comes out of the same place. We have lofty, fluffy, nebulous goals for our lives that we never seem to be able to find traction in climbing towards. Weight loss, financial balance, time for happy-love-smooshy moments, it all seems to get wrapped up in a little package that gets entirely ignored when things get stressful.
We recently took an extended 2 week vacation, and while the vacation was 99.9% stress free (I don't think we had even the remotest conflict on it, you know) it really exacerbated the issues back home. When removed from our stressful existence, we are the happiest people on the planet. However, we seem to lack totally the capacity or mechanisms to deal with the real world successfully. It was really dismaying to compare our first week back from vacation with our week on vacation. Ugh.
I'm not sure what this is really about, as I suspect I have feelings somewhat unique to my generation. As the affluence of western society grows (built, I suspect, on the shore of an ocean of economic collapse) each successive generation grows further and further from a work ethic based on survival. We have a growing sense of entitlement to happiness unfounded on any sort of actual effort or the concept of reaping what we sow. I see it more and more in the people who are 17,18, or 19 now, but I reflect on it being substantially the cause of my own personal torment.
Its really fucking obnoxious. We watched a good movie tonight, but I'll make a separate post for that.
We recently took an extended 2 week vacation, and while the vacation was 99.9% stress free (I don't think we had even the remotest conflict on it, you know) it really exacerbated the issues back home. When removed from our stressful existence, we are the happiest people on the planet. However, we seem to lack totally the capacity or mechanisms to deal with the real world successfully. It was really dismaying to compare our first week back from vacation with our week on vacation. Ugh.
I'm not sure what this is really about, as I suspect I have feelings somewhat unique to my generation. As the affluence of western society grows (built, I suspect, on the shore of an ocean of economic collapse) each successive generation grows further and further from a work ethic based on survival. We have a growing sense of entitlement to happiness unfounded on any sort of actual effort or the concept of reaping what we sow. I see it more and more in the people who are 17,18, or 19 now, but I reflect on it being substantially the cause of my own personal torment.
Its really fucking obnoxious. We watched a good movie tonight, but I'll make a separate post for that.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
I WANT TO TAKE YOU TO THE GAYBAR! (shout out to the kleptones)
Tonight we sat in bed and played Ticket To Ride. How sad is that?
I've left that link running long deliberately to highlight how fucking sad it is that I did that. I don't mean sad in reflection to me. I'm fucking smart. I know how to fix shit like that. However, there is no obvious way to correct it in the GUI of this editor and I forget how to easily fix it. I remember a long way (long meaning 30 seconds) but I'm too lazy and stoned to fix that.
So for reasons I feel I must be deliberately vague on, I recently ended up at a gay bathhouse. I feel very anxious about using the right words to express my feelings on this because I want them to be clear. I do not identify with contemporary gay culture which this place was totally dripping in but I was feeling comfortable, a bit of a country bumpkin in the big city, and god damn it I didn't want to go back to a boring hotel room (the only occupant being a pack of cigarettes I shouldn't have owned or wanted to smoke). So I went as part of a social outing that kind of naturally organized itself. (the organization was not to go to the bathhouse, and only a subsection of those at the event in question continued to the bathhouse.
Maybe you, like I, are unfamiliar with how it works. Maybe I'll go into that some other time in detail. Suffice to say I watched gay men partner for anonymous sex. They'd walk up, grab a little ass, and disappear. Now there were places - the porn room, the lounge - where there was a more public and stationary exhibit of gay sexuality but I didn't linger in them.
Indeed all I did do was spend an hour (we preagreed to meet at 3) in the steam room having a most excellent steam. It was a steam room with a hot tub in the middle of it so my oh my was it steamy. While I clearly did not indulge in all the features the establishment offered I thought it was $15 well spent. I never in my life thought I would have done such a thing. I called my wife immediately to wake her up and tell all. She was a little pissed about that, mitigated only slightly by the difference in time zones.
While I feel a bit like a sexual anthropologist in this I do feel slightly like I might be objectifying anonymous gay sex for my amusement and this is far from the case. I'm not sure I've settled on why I believe some are gay and some are straight, but I'm not unfamiliar with the sexual uses of another mans penis (just like 1 in 3 adult males out there). I somewhat wish I was more like the characters of Alan Moore's Lost Girls who would have jumped down the throat of the experience all guns blazing.
However that is a fictional world and I have a very real wife that gets preconsent on my sexual adventures. It was part of the contract I signed by marrying her. And while I confess truly that the thought of having a homosexual encounter never crossed my mind despite the veritable abundance of opportunity there is a caveat. The key figure in deciding to go was that I was absolutely hammered. Fantastically drunk. 13-14 ounces of rum served with diet cola. I couldn't have gotten an erection if my life depended on it.
Since I'd been known to act rashly in the heat of the moment - and the lack of sex for 4 days had created some heat - I knew such inability to perform would guarantee security and I happily jumped aboard what proved to be a very unexpectedly good time.
(and for the record, this experience with anonymous homosexual gay sex was practiced with more attention to safety than any anonymous heterosexual experience I've had)
I've left that link running long deliberately to highlight how fucking sad it is that I did that. I don't mean sad in reflection to me. I'm fucking smart. I know how to fix shit like that. However, there is no obvious way to correct it in the GUI of this editor and I forget how to easily fix it. I remember a long way (long meaning 30 seconds) but I'm too lazy and stoned to fix that.
So for reasons I feel I must be deliberately vague on, I recently ended up at a gay bathhouse. I feel very anxious about using the right words to express my feelings on this because I want them to be clear. I do not identify with contemporary gay culture which this place was totally dripping in but I was feeling comfortable, a bit of a country bumpkin in the big city, and god damn it I didn't want to go back to a boring hotel room (the only occupant being a pack of cigarettes I shouldn't have owned or wanted to smoke). So I went as part of a social outing that kind of naturally organized itself. (the organization was not to go to the bathhouse, and only a subsection of those at the event in question continued to the bathhouse.
Maybe you, like I, are unfamiliar with how it works. Maybe I'll go into that some other time in detail. Suffice to say I watched gay men partner for anonymous sex. They'd walk up, grab a little ass, and disappear. Now there were places - the porn room, the lounge - where there was a more public and stationary exhibit of gay sexuality but I didn't linger in them.
Indeed all I did do was spend an hour (we preagreed to meet at 3) in the steam room having a most excellent steam. It was a steam room with a hot tub in the middle of it so my oh my was it steamy. While I clearly did not indulge in all the features the establishment offered I thought it was $15 well spent. I never in my life thought I would have done such a thing. I called my wife immediately to wake her up and tell all. She was a little pissed about that, mitigated only slightly by the difference in time zones.
While I feel a bit like a sexual anthropologist in this I do feel slightly like I might be objectifying anonymous gay sex for my amusement and this is far from the case. I'm not sure I've settled on why I believe some are gay and some are straight, but I'm not unfamiliar with the sexual uses of another mans penis (just like 1 in 3 adult males out there). I somewhat wish I was more like the characters of Alan Moore's Lost Girls who would have jumped down the throat of the experience all guns blazing.
However that is a fictional world and I have a very real wife that gets preconsent on my sexual adventures. It was part of the contract I signed by marrying her. And while I confess truly that the thought of having a homosexual encounter never crossed my mind despite the veritable abundance of opportunity there is a caveat. The key figure in deciding to go was that I was absolutely hammered. Fantastically drunk. 13-14 ounces of rum served with diet cola. I couldn't have gotten an erection if my life depended on it.
Since I'd been known to act rashly in the heat of the moment - and the lack of sex for 4 days had created some heat - I knew such inability to perform would guarantee security and I happily jumped aboard what proved to be a very unexpectedly good time.
(and for the record, this experience with anonymous homosexual gay sex was practiced with more attention to safety than any anonymous heterosexual experience I've had)
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Identity
One thing I'm terrified to contemplate is my identity. One thing I can describe is that I am a perpetually negative person - I constantly cling to the flaws in things. Tell me you like X, I will tell you what is wrong with X. This is not to say that X is bad and that you shouldn't like it, but I obsess with inadequacies.
One thing I've found that this means is that I, personally, am nothing. I don't adhere to any real beliefs, or should I say ideologies. I have a lot of beliefs, but ideologies bother me. Once you apply a label to a set of beliefs it masks so many different nuances both explicit and implied. So to avoid any misconceptions I run away from doing anything substantial, to avoid criticisms I make no positive affirmations, and I think that I'm finding that in doing this I am not finding true happiness.
This is a glaring issue in most facets of my life, but the worst right now is in religion. By extension this means the community I construct around me as religion should be a means of finding communion with your fellow man. However, since I'm not into inherited religion or group delusions I find my spiritual leanings conflicted. Ostensibly I adhere to neopaganism in the vicinity of Wicca, but both those labels are loaded with connotations and stereotypes that are inapplicable.
And again I lament the lack of success in finding others with a similar degree of critical attention. Of course I'm also lamenting here that I *have* this degree of critical attention, but I think one reason why I suffer is an inability to develop a community around me through which to exercise my cynicism away. My critical leanings are not trivial, and constantly they are dealt with trivially by people around me. I wish I could find a group of friends who would help be embrace this, digest it, and pass it through.
One thing I've found that this means is that I, personally, am nothing. I don't adhere to any real beliefs, or should I say ideologies. I have a lot of beliefs, but ideologies bother me. Once you apply a label to a set of beliefs it masks so many different nuances both explicit and implied. So to avoid any misconceptions I run away from doing anything substantial, to avoid criticisms I make no positive affirmations, and I think that I'm finding that in doing this I am not finding true happiness.
This is a glaring issue in most facets of my life, but the worst right now is in religion. By extension this means the community I construct around me as religion should be a means of finding communion with your fellow man. However, since I'm not into inherited religion or group delusions I find my spiritual leanings conflicted. Ostensibly I adhere to neopaganism in the vicinity of Wicca, but both those labels are loaded with connotations and stereotypes that are inapplicable.
And again I lament the lack of success in finding others with a similar degree of critical attention. Of course I'm also lamenting here that I *have* this degree of critical attention, but I think one reason why I suffer is an inability to develop a community around me through which to exercise my cynicism away. My critical leanings are not trivial, and constantly they are dealt with trivially by people around me. I wish I could find a group of friends who would help be embrace this, digest it, and pass it through.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Potential
If you have a low tolerance for arrogance I suggest you turn away now. It's not that I'm so drenched in hubris that this will be intentional, acknowledged in the first remark, and still pursued. What it is though is musings on destiny.
We'll start with in how I don't believe we have one. We're not preordained to accomplish any substantial feat when we first set forth from the womb into the world. As we grow and generate our own little adorable cognitive psyche we do not become cogs in a predetermined machine nor to we slip into roles set out in the cosmic dance.
This is of course simply a belief system I choose to hold. If the opposite were true - and I was predestined to believe the above (that being a lie) I would of course be powerless to change it and well thats the kind of discussion best saved for M.C. Escher paintings.
What I do believe is that our souls are happiest doing ... something. A big problem with the world is that people don't figure out what that something is and get waylaid with all sorts of impressions and invitations and insinuations that what will make our souls happy is coincidentally something that when obtained will advance the agenda of someone else. Thus the battle for dollars and mindshare is ever continuing.
And its not that materialism is bad. Maybe some souls are happiest selling and some buying and some being envious and others happy as a fucking pig in shit breaking into your house and stealing all of your crap to buy black market prescription drugs. The problem as I see it is I do not see people actually engaging in a personal dialog and trying to understand what really makes them happy. In my theory the answer can be anything, but those who are cleaving to one thing or another without exploring the issue have not found their answer because in my experience finding that answer is a difficult path fraught with peril and I find it hard to believe anyone could accidentally stumble down it.
I don't know exactly what makes my soul happy. I'm very fond of sex, as well as all forms of multimedia engagement. I suspect to be happy I must continually dabble within both spheres. However I have a nihilistic approach to both spheres, and especially the people who purport to adhere to either.
I previously mentioned in sensationalistic passing that we have attended orgies in the past. We've stopped having anything whatsoever to do with the local swinging scene as in our opinion - or, let me say my opinion as I can only speak for me - the people involved were pretty off kilter.
I do have fantasies and visions of a subculture where I can exist in a sublime lack of self doubt and fear, and a big part of that would be the ability and comfort with expressing my sexuality in whatever way I see fit. But given the levels of social pitfall society builds around sexual expression, I can't accept a cavalier migration to that sort of existence as anything other than a self-destructive denial that eventually ruins everything it touches. So when we encountered a group that was dominated by men and women who would have sex with anyone, clearly (and openly) accelerated by all manner of drug, and these people were more than a little lazy about barrier protection in sexual behaviors, I was both fascinated and filled with a defensive urge to run as fast as humanly possible in the other direction.
The fascination stems from a carnal voyeuristic impulse, and that no matter how you slice it watching 6 or 7 women have group sex is all sorts of hot. The defense mechanism comes from the simple mathematics that while I am very open to advanced sexual frontiers this willingness is build on a foundation of openess, honesty, and trust. Nothing any of these people seems to give a damn about. My overall conclusion is that it would be nothing short of suicidal to engage sexually with these people.
And let me tell you how much I didn't want that to be the case.
It is, really, the same with multimedia; less pretentiously video games and movies. I'm a big fan of science fiction and fantasy, but the internet subcultures that build up around such genre entertainment is fucking frightening. It seems to be a quest to artificially create a social niche in which one can define oneself according to pre-shared community standards rather than a sincere expression of enjoyment or a celebration of an artistic work. I've attended one video game convention and found it very hard to relate to the people there - I feel I love video games more than anyone I met there, but I was unwilling to slot myself into a convenient fandom and thus was not speaking the same language.
The parallel to religion is perhaps very apt, and I as always am filling the role of the true heretic. Each subculture builds up certain things and I feel compelled to dwell on the deficiencies each thing brings to the table. It is not a pessimism, it is a hard and fast desire to be un-beholden to anything other that the reality of the experience and to pick and choose from various candidates. Indeed, perhaps it could be said I evaluate things not on what they do right or how good they are, but on how much they do wrong or how bad they are. Again this isn't cynicism, it is more a unflinching appreciation for honesty. Everything is terrible - some of it just tries harder.
And it is that trying that makes the critical difference. Picture two individuals attempting the same task. One will undoubtedly accomplish it better than the other and in doing so be "better". However we should not evaluate our lives based on the complex and multivalued standards of others, no, instead we should find out what is going to make our soul happy and strive to do that as well as we can. As long as we are open to some surprising understandings of the self this seems to be a foolproof proposition as its only real directive is "try" followed by "keep trying". I see myself surrounded by people that defy the fundamental honesty that is necessary to even begin that struggle, and it makes me sad.
But I'll try to be more open about that tomorrow.
We'll start with in how I don't believe we have one. We're not preordained to accomplish any substantial feat when we first set forth from the womb into the world. As we grow and generate our own little adorable cognitive psyche we do not become cogs in a predetermined machine nor to we slip into roles set out in the cosmic dance.
This is of course simply a belief system I choose to hold. If the opposite were true - and I was predestined to believe the above (that being a lie) I would of course be powerless to change it and well thats the kind of discussion best saved for M.C. Escher paintings.
What I do believe is that our souls are happiest doing ... something. A big problem with the world is that people don't figure out what that something is and get waylaid with all sorts of impressions and invitations and insinuations that what will make our souls happy is coincidentally something that when obtained will advance the agenda of someone else. Thus the battle for dollars and mindshare is ever continuing.
And its not that materialism is bad. Maybe some souls are happiest selling and some buying and some being envious and others happy as a fucking pig in shit breaking into your house and stealing all of your crap to buy black market prescription drugs. The problem as I see it is I do not see people actually engaging in a personal dialog and trying to understand what really makes them happy. In my theory the answer can be anything, but those who are cleaving to one thing or another without exploring the issue have not found their answer because in my experience finding that answer is a difficult path fraught with peril and I find it hard to believe anyone could accidentally stumble down it.
I don't know exactly what makes my soul happy. I'm very fond of sex, as well as all forms of multimedia engagement. I suspect to be happy I must continually dabble within both spheres. However I have a nihilistic approach to both spheres, and especially the people who purport to adhere to either.
I previously mentioned in sensationalistic passing that we have attended orgies in the past. We've stopped having anything whatsoever to do with the local swinging scene as in our opinion - or, let me say my opinion as I can only speak for me - the people involved were pretty off kilter.
I do have fantasies and visions of a subculture where I can exist in a sublime lack of self doubt and fear, and a big part of that would be the ability and comfort with expressing my sexuality in whatever way I see fit. But given the levels of social pitfall society builds around sexual expression, I can't accept a cavalier migration to that sort of existence as anything other than a self-destructive denial that eventually ruins everything it touches. So when we encountered a group that was dominated by men and women who would have sex with anyone, clearly (and openly) accelerated by all manner of drug, and these people were more than a little lazy about barrier protection in sexual behaviors, I was both fascinated and filled with a defensive urge to run as fast as humanly possible in the other direction.
The fascination stems from a carnal voyeuristic impulse, and that no matter how you slice it watching 6 or 7 women have group sex is all sorts of hot. The defense mechanism comes from the simple mathematics that while I am very open to advanced sexual frontiers this willingness is build on a foundation of openess, honesty, and trust. Nothing any of these people seems to give a damn about. My overall conclusion is that it would be nothing short of suicidal to engage sexually with these people.
And let me tell you how much I didn't want that to be the case.
It is, really, the same with multimedia; less pretentiously video games and movies. I'm a big fan of science fiction and fantasy, but the internet subcultures that build up around such genre entertainment is fucking frightening. It seems to be a quest to artificially create a social niche in which one can define oneself according to pre-shared community standards rather than a sincere expression of enjoyment or a celebration of an artistic work. I've attended one video game convention and found it very hard to relate to the people there - I feel I love video games more than anyone I met there, but I was unwilling to slot myself into a convenient fandom and thus was not speaking the same language.
The parallel to religion is perhaps very apt, and I as always am filling the role of the true heretic. Each subculture builds up certain things and I feel compelled to dwell on the deficiencies each thing brings to the table. It is not a pessimism, it is a hard and fast desire to be un-beholden to anything other that the reality of the experience and to pick and choose from various candidates. Indeed, perhaps it could be said I evaluate things not on what they do right or how good they are, but on how much they do wrong or how bad they are. Again this isn't cynicism, it is more a unflinching appreciation for honesty. Everything is terrible - some of it just tries harder.
And it is that trying that makes the critical difference. Picture two individuals attempting the same task. One will undoubtedly accomplish it better than the other and in doing so be "better". However we should not evaluate our lives based on the complex and multivalued standards of others, no, instead we should find out what is going to make our soul happy and strive to do that as well as we can. As long as we are open to some surprising understandings of the self this seems to be a foolproof proposition as its only real directive is "try" followed by "keep trying". I see myself surrounded by people that defy the fundamental honesty that is necessary to even begin that struggle, and it makes me sad.
But I'll try to be more open about that tomorrow.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Feeling Empowered, for a Change
For those of you who may of missed it, we are now into 2007. A new year for most people is an opportunity to outline the areas of our lives where we feel we could be doing better, the areas we'd like to actively work to improve over the upcoming year.
I don't usually get too excited about resolutions and to this point in my life have not really participated in the cult of the New Year Resolution.
This year is looking pretty good though and I guess I'm pumped about it. It seems to be ripe with opportunity, with untapped potential and I'm feeling like maybe, just maybe I can set some goals this year and take advantage of this positive energy.
So, for this year I've taken a look at the areas in my life that I know I can do better in and I'm hoping that just the act of saying them out loud and recording them here might prompt me down the road to self improvement and actualization.
1 ~ Weight Watchers. So far, I know this is working for me. And it works even better when I actually stick to the program. I've grown lazy when it comes to recording my food intake, drinking my water and have become entirely apathetic when it comes to those unknown foods (it's really easy to 'forget' to record food when you know you don't know how many points it was worth). The holidays have not been kind to me and I need to get back on the boat. This is a BIG deal and I am determined that I am going to lose a significant amount of weight before I become pregnant.
2 ~ Doing my best at work. It is sometimes easy to slack off in my position, but I have realized that if I am going to use the position as a launching pad for future government jobs that I need to work as hard as a I can and I need to do that all the time. I need to be giving this job my all right now. I'm only going to develop my professional skills as much as I 'want' to. I know that. I need to push myself to do things I don't really like doing. Presentations is a big thing--I don't mind them really, but I certainly don't go looking for opportunities to present. And I need to. I am also going to be supervising a practicum student until April and I'm really nervous about that. I know what it's like to be a student and have really poor leadership. It's difficult to learn and you feel as if you are wasting your time. I don't want to do that to this guy. He deserves the best I have to offer him and he will get it.
3 ~ Increasing activity level. There are a couple of aspects to this. Resident Manservant has plateaued with his weight loss. He dropped nearly 30 pounds within the first 2 months and has been steady for the past 3 weeks. I need to start being more active. It's part of the program overall, and I've been entirely neglecting it. I don't know what we are going to do exactly. We have discussed joining a gym together, we also were doing aquafit classes together for a time. It seems to be easier if we are doing things as a couple, so we need to focus on finding things that work for both of us.
4 ~ I want to read more. In the last month or so I have picked up a couple of books that have been laying around for some time and have actually been reading them! I'm horrible for this. I see books that I think I'd like and I buy them, but never seem to get around to reading them. I've nearly finished reading a novel that I started on Boxing Day and have been fondly reminded of how much I enjoy reading. I never seem to have time. But I would like to start making time. I miss it.
5 ~ Planning for Success. For me this a broad statement relating to both my weight loss, but also to financial stuff. We've a wack of debt that we need to work more effectively at managing. We have already discussed some of our options with our bank and are planning to visit to go over them in more detail. For the next several months I am hoping that both of us can curb our personal spending and and work down the debt as much as possible before we refinance. Planning for continued success is an idea that I'm slowly coming around to. It doesn't happen accidentally--either gaining or losing. Planning meals, planning shopping, planning for eating out--these are all essential to our continued success.
6 ~ SEX, SEX, SEX. We don't have nearly enough of it. When we do, it's amazing, but we are generally pretty lucky lately if we are able to get to it twice a week. AND THAT'S NOT ENOUGH!!! But let me tell you, since Resident Manservant has dropped his weight, it is so much more amazing that I want it all the time.
7 ~ Relationship stuff. I think we have learned a lot in the last year on how to be a better couple, but I'm sure there is still a ton to learn. I have realized what it means to work as a team, to act as a team, to support each other as a team. But there is always room for improvement.
8 ~ Spirituality. Resident Manservant has already spoken to the path of the year, and I hope that we can continue down this path together. And maybe this time we can be a little less side-tracked and much more focused.
9 ~ Ab work. This one's kind of silly and fits into the general fitness idea, but I'd like to focus on gaining abdominal strength. I have done this in the past by doing as little as 15 minutes of ab work before bed in the evening, along with my stretching. I'd like to do this 3 evenings a week.
That's my list. It's long. I do think though that we have done a lot of work already that has primed us to start working even harder now. This doesn't seem that overwhelming after all.
Totally doable, right?
I don't usually get too excited about resolutions and to this point in my life have not really participated in the cult of the New Year Resolution.
This year is looking pretty good though and I guess I'm pumped about it. It seems to be ripe with opportunity, with untapped potential and I'm feeling like maybe, just maybe I can set some goals this year and take advantage of this positive energy.
So, for this year I've taken a look at the areas in my life that I know I can do better in and I'm hoping that just the act of saying them out loud and recording them here might prompt me down the road to self improvement and actualization.
1 ~ Weight Watchers. So far, I know this is working for me. And it works even better when I actually stick to the program. I've grown lazy when it comes to recording my food intake, drinking my water and have become entirely apathetic when it comes to those unknown foods (it's really easy to 'forget' to record food when you know you don't know how many points it was worth). The holidays have not been kind to me and I need to get back on the boat. This is a BIG deal and I am determined that I am going to lose a significant amount of weight before I become pregnant.
2 ~ Doing my best at work. It is sometimes easy to slack off in my position, but I have realized that if I am going to use the position as a launching pad for future government jobs that I need to work as hard as a I can and I need to do that all the time. I need to be giving this job my all right now. I'm only going to develop my professional skills as much as I 'want' to. I know that. I need to push myself to do things I don't really like doing. Presentations is a big thing--I don't mind them really, but I certainly don't go looking for opportunities to present. And I need to. I am also going to be supervising a practicum student until April and I'm really nervous about that. I know what it's like to be a student and have really poor leadership. It's difficult to learn and you feel as if you are wasting your time. I don't want to do that to this guy. He deserves the best I have to offer him and he will get it.
3 ~ Increasing activity level. There are a couple of aspects to this. Resident Manservant has plateaued with his weight loss. He dropped nearly 30 pounds within the first 2 months and has been steady for the past 3 weeks. I need to start being more active. It's part of the program overall, and I've been entirely neglecting it. I don't know what we are going to do exactly. We have discussed joining a gym together, we also were doing aquafit classes together for a time. It seems to be easier if we are doing things as a couple, so we need to focus on finding things that work for both of us.
4 ~ I want to read more. In the last month or so I have picked up a couple of books that have been laying around for some time and have actually been reading them! I'm horrible for this. I see books that I think I'd like and I buy them, but never seem to get around to reading them. I've nearly finished reading a novel that I started on Boxing Day and have been fondly reminded of how much I enjoy reading. I never seem to have time. But I would like to start making time. I miss it.
5 ~ Planning for Success. For me this a broad statement relating to both my weight loss, but also to financial stuff. We've a wack of debt that we need to work more effectively at managing. We have already discussed some of our options with our bank and are planning to visit to go over them in more detail. For the next several months I am hoping that both of us can curb our personal spending and and work down the debt as much as possible before we refinance. Planning for continued success is an idea that I'm slowly coming around to. It doesn't happen accidentally--either gaining or losing. Planning meals, planning shopping, planning for eating out--these are all essential to our continued success.
6 ~ SEX, SEX, SEX. We don't have nearly enough of it. When we do, it's amazing, but we are generally pretty lucky lately if we are able to get to it twice a week. AND THAT'S NOT ENOUGH!!! But let me tell you, since Resident Manservant has dropped his weight, it is so much more amazing that I want it all the time.
7 ~ Relationship stuff. I think we have learned a lot in the last year on how to be a better couple, but I'm sure there is still a ton to learn. I have realized what it means to work as a team, to act as a team, to support each other as a team. But there is always room for improvement.
8 ~ Spirituality. Resident Manservant has already spoken to the path of the year, and I hope that we can continue down this path together. And maybe this time we can be a little less side-tracked and much more focused.
9 ~ Ab work. This one's kind of silly and fits into the general fitness idea, but I'd like to focus on gaining abdominal strength. I have done this in the past by doing as little as 15 minutes of ab work before bed in the evening, along with my stretching. I'd like to do this 3 evenings a week.
That's my list. It's long. I do think though that we have done a lot of work already that has primed us to start working even harder now. This doesn't seem that overwhelming after all.
Totally doable, right?
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