Saturday, November 29, 2008

advice from a stranger

Last night the best girlfriend and I went out to our favorite Mexican restaurant (after the Texan bailed on me... for the second night in a row!), where we know the waitstaff and the owner. We always have a good time, the vibe is laid-back and fun, and the free shots and margaritas don't hurt either. (I would feel worse about this did the staffers not also drink with us and did we not hang out outside the restaurant as well.. but they do and we do, so I'm OK with it.) The best girlfriend had called a mutual friend and his roommate to come join us - primarily because she liked the mutual friend and he's been flirting with her all semester long. He's a good-hearted, ridiculously handsome guy, and she asked me to make sure she didn't get in too deep with anything, being so fresh from the breakup, but she wanted some attention. Since I know him so well also, I assumed we would all be OK, and I knew I could call him off if need be. He brought his roommate, making it a kind of funny, awkward psuedo-double date. Of course, his roommate (my "date") has a girlfriend, so we were basically the wingmen... wing-people... Whatever.

Anyway, while my girl and our friend were talking and flirting, I started talking with his roommate, who I don't think I've ever said a word to before, but who struck me as a genuinely nice guy. We were talking about our mutual dislike for giant discotecas here, and I mentioned my particular experience the night before. I had gone out with basically the entire program (some hundred of us) to an overpriced, overcrowded disco. I was sober, and not particularly in the mood to be there, but I was, in fact, making an effort to have a good time. Crush was there, along with a fellow program-mate who has been, of late, hooking up (I've seen them making out, but I hear there is more that goes on as well) with the boy I kind of liked when I first got to Spain. Anyway... This girl and Crush were just all. over. each. other.

Generally, this wouldn't bother me so much, but combined with the shitty situation of the night, I just cracked. I don't even particularly think anything will happen with Crush, nor does it need to, but it's still less than fun to watch someone you're attracted to all over someone you don't like. I left shortly after and went home alone.

So I was telling my fellow wingman about this (including the girl's name, who we had been discussing, but omitting Crush's name intentionally), and he asked me who Crush was. I wouldn't tell him. He insisted. I told him it doesn't matter, since nothing is going to happen, and I leave in a week anyway. He persisted, and shared a secret of his own, and I caved and told him Crush's name. (On a side note, why is it that sharing secrets makes us feel more bonded and trustworthy? I suppose that's mostly rhetorical, as it's pretty obvious, but still...) That sparked a conversation about what a nice guy Crush is, and I mentioned my concern that he's basically out to get everyone to like him. Which there's nothing inherently wrong with, I just as of late have been questioning how genuine he's been with me. (That isn't out of the blue... other things have transpired that I haven't written about.)
Wingman: Well, have you told him?
Me: Who? Crush? That I like him? Of course not.
Wingman: Well, maybe you should.
Me: Yeah, thanks. I think I'll pass. There isn't really a point anyway.
Wingman: But if you don't tell him, then he can't do anything about it. And then you'll go home always wondering what if.
Me: But... but.. I mean... *whimper*
Wingman: He's a really nice guy. He's not going to shoot you down. And you'll be angry at yourself if you don't take the chance.
Me: OK. Hypothetically, were I to do this. What do I even say? I don't want to come off like some love-sick puppy or a clingly stalker. Imagine you're him. What do I say? How would you want someone to tell you they like you?
Wingman: Let's see. I'm Crush. There's a girl that likes me, and how would I want her to tell me she likes me? I'd want her to be honest. Tell me how she feels when she's with me. I'd want to know if I make her smile when we're together. I'd want to know if there was some single moment when she realized she liked me as more than a friend. And I'd want her to tell me how often she thinks about me. Those are the things that matter. That's what I'd want to hear.

And I was a little taken aback. It was so honest, and sweet, and, near as I can tell, spot-on. Applicable in just about any situation. Maybe it was just seeing his expression soften a little, hearing his tone change, but what he said went straight to my heart. It really took hold. I was thinking about it, and I think that's something any person would like to know. Who wouldn't want to hear that? I don't think it comes off crazy or obsessive. I think it comes off as maybe just vulnerable enough to be sincere.

I'm still not sure if I'm actually going to have this conversation with Crush, but I think what wingman said might be the best advice I've ever gotten from a relative stranger. It's something I'd want to hear. It's something I'd like to say someday. I think it's something just about anyone would want to hear.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

HNT: Favorites II

Anyone who's read me for, oh, about a second and a half won't be surprised by this one.

I love my breasts.

If I can be so bold, I've got a great rack. Oddly enough, I use this to justify why I have to buy Large-size shirts and be OK with that. This actually isn't a particularly cleavage-full shot, but I like the color of my skin in this one (and this is the real color, not photoshopped or with camera effects) and I think it offers a nice view of what you might see were your hand at my wrist, about to pull me against you or pin me against a wall...



HHNT - which today I'm counting as happy half-nekkid Thanksgiving!

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Reflections II

Just a short post this evening. There might be one more of these reflection posts in the works... and this one has little to do with sexuality, but I suppose that's what you get when I get rambly and preoccupied with moving back across the ocean.

In other news, I hope everyone is having or had a fantastic Thanksgiving spent with the people you wanted to spend it with and being grateful for all that all of us are lucky enough to have. So here, some things I will miss (and yes, was lucky to enjoy while I was here).

Things I will miss:
The Texan
Professors who swear, drink, and laugh with their students
Gorgeous international men
Gorgeous international women
My favorite Mexicans (at my favorite restaurant here)
Students willing to set aside cliques and make new friends
Hot foreign accents
Legal equality and social acceptance for many queer identities (admittedly not all)
Speaking Spanish daily
Meeting new people daily
Paella, Tortilla Española, y Sangria
Easy access to the rest of Europe
Living in a home where my Señora cares when I come home
Crush
My best girlfriend here
Ireland
Automatically being worldly and different because I'm not European
Worldly, different, European points of view

Things I will NOT miss:
Catty cliques that are apparently an international phenomenon
Not eating a meal between 9am and 10pm
Crappy internet connections
Two-midterm semesters
Different grading standards (while still officially working with an American GPA system)
Speaking Spanish everyday
Being closeted to most of the people around me
Three words: Dollar to Euro.
Settling for digital conversations with real friends
Not having a cell phone
Sharing a bedroom
Automatically being different because I'm not European

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Reflections I

My time in Spain is coming to a close. I have a whopping 10 days left here. Not that I'm counting.

It has, in the end, been a life-changing experience. I think I'm still too close to it to see how much of that was actually a result of Spain, itself, and how much was simply a result of being somewhere else. It's a bittersweet sentiment, because I will miss some of the people I've met here, and more often than not, my closest friends this semester will not be returning to the same campus I will be next semester. It's precisely this pattern in my life that makes me so eager to graduate and settle down in my own place... The idea that I don't have to entirely uproot my life every four months is amazingly appealing. I don't know that I'll set down permanent roots, but I do know where I want to go when I graduate and I have a pretty good idea how to get there.

One of my best friends here (The Texan is the other, this is a girl who is a year younger, but we've very much bonded)... her boyfriend of over a year just broke up with her. Over the internet, and without warning. They had just spent a fabulous weekend together in London, and she didn't see it coming at all, but he's holding firm that he needs his space and time to be alone.

I haven't left her side since she found out. Literally. As soon as she told me, I gave her a hug, and held her as her body shook with sobs. When she made herself reply to his emails, I was there helping her type through the tears. And last night, after I finished with class at 10pm, I went over to her house and spent the night with her, because she didn't want to sleep alone. When she's angry at him, I remind her what an asshole he is for breaking her heart. When she's pining and thinking it's her fault, I tell her of course it's not and to try to focus on the good things that came from the relationship. She keeps apologizing and thanking me for being there and asking why I'm doing all this for her. For one, she's my friend.

Secondly, I know exactly where she's coming from.

The similarities between her and her boyfriend's breakup and mine with Ex are strikingly similar. A semester spent apart. Moving closer together (although not the same city) next semester. Occasional visits have gone smoothly. She didn't suspect anything being wrong. He's being incredibly blase (at least in appearance) about everything this is doing to her. And while Ex told me he didn't love me anymore, her boyfriend said he still loved her, but both her ex and Ex used the exact same phrase: "I'm not going to rule out the future, but I also can't promise you anything."

And watching her hurt so badly, and go through all of the same shit I did two and a half years ago, breaks my heart. For her sake, and mine. I do understand where she's coming from, and maybe that's why the neediness doesn't bother me. I would have killed to have time around friends who DIDN'T know ex when I was processing the breakup. My friends were wonderful, but were all also his friends, which made it more than a little awkward. So I'm sitting by her side, and doing whatever she needs. Trying to convince her to eat, even if it's only a little food. Because I remember what it was like. I do.

And that's an interesting thing to have thrown back into your conscious. I haven't thought about Ex much lately. He's no longer on my buddy list, but I was reminded today that he's still on my Facebook when his name popped up on the chat, and I saw his new girlfriend (well, she's not new, it's the same girl he left me for two years ago) wrote on a mutual friend's profile. But I took a deep breath. And that was it. It wasn't followed by the sting I'd become so accustomed to when thinking about him. I didn't have to stop myself from going to look at his profile, or his latest photos. I haven't been making my holiday plans with an ever-awareness about where and who he might be seeing.

Because it doesn't bother me anymore. I don't care. And that isn't the defiant, angry, I don't care, but instead the passive, it simply doesn't affect me, kind of I don't care.

So, sure, it took me two and a half years. But I'm there. I am officially over it. There's no more animosity, and while there may still be some scar tissue, it's not so ugly and apparent anymore, but rather just one more thing that makes me who I am.

And I'm proud to be able to say that.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

HNT: Favorites I

I'll once again be traveling this weekend - this time to Sevilla and Cordoba in southern Spain. And then, one more weekend in this country, and it's homeward-bound! I'm a little conflicted about what, exactly, going home will be like, but for the most part, I'm terribly excited to get back to things that I'm comfortable with. I know studying abroad is supposed to expose you to new things and experiences, but I feel like I've had more than I bargained for here in Espana.

Anyway, that'll explain the lack of posts this weekend. Although I do have a fantasy I've been writing in my head for several nights now... I'm going to do my best to get that down in print soon.

As for the HNT, I've been thinking for a while about doing a series of HNTs revolving around my favorite parts of my body. Granted, you can most likely surmise which parts these are based on my previous HNTs, but this will be an explicit recognition of random body parts I like. It isn't hierarchical, although my favor of parts probably is. In my mind, this is an excercise in making myself actually like my body. Someday I'd love to be able to post a full photo and say THIS is the part of my body I love. I'm not there yet. Maybe someday.

So for this week, here it is:

I really like my collarbone. I love being kissed and bitten there - it's so much more sensitive where the bone is close to skin. I also love the fact that there is some shadow, some definition there. It isn't the crazy-emaciated kind, but I like that my neck doesn't just disappear into my shoulders. Also, I've been told that when I'm breathing heavy, exasperated and flushed, that this area is almost like a centre for all that energy, straining to be held in. Now, what kind of situation might cause something like that?

:)

HHNT.

Monday, November 17, 2008

on love and friendship

...and where and when the two intersect.

I should give some background here. I have a (by some standards terrible) habit of dating, fucking, and/or falling in love with my friends. Not all of them, mind you, but friends who I haven't at least kissed are absolutely in the minority. Everyone I've seriously dated or really fallen for has been a friend first. Well, I guess Ex is sort of the exception, as he and I met when we were first starting high school. It did take us almost a semester of pretending we liked each other just as friends, though, before we started dating. P is without question one of my best friends, and I've never been able to separate how much of that is fueled or complicated by the fact that we're in love with each other. Friend is someone I've known for more than half my life, as is Essin' Em, and both M and nonboyfriend I've known for many years just as friends before anything physical ever happened. The women I've slept with (Essin' Em being the exception), I generally haven't known as long, but I'll go ahead and chalk that up to not embracing my queerness anywhere near as early as I embraced the part of me attracted to men.

There is undoubtedly something subconscious about this habit, I think. I'm sure it has something to do with how comfortable I am with my friends, and the fact that when I become friends with someone, I tend to remain so indefinitely... I would usually include the caveat "barring any major transgressions," but more than one of these friends/FwBs and I have had serious falling-outs and continue to speak and, in some cases, have sex. (Obviously, we've worked through our issues, for better or worse.) Not everyone I've had sex with has been an old friend, but almost all of those I've had sex with more than once or twice have been. It's easier to date/fuck friends. You don't have to worry about the awkward getting-to-know-you stage, because it's already out of the way. I'm generally very open about sexuality with my friends (I'm sure you're shocked), so it isn't taboo to essentially take it to the next level.

There are, of course, some downfalls to this tendency. Most people would say that sleeping with your friends has the potential to ruin the friendship, and theorhetically I agree. But by and large I haven't experienced that. That's not to say that I'm somehow superior to these people who "can't manage" that kind of relationship, but maybe it does say something about the nature of my friendships. Maybe I only establish significant friendships with people I could have feelings for. I don't know. Maybe I confuse the more platonic, friend-based love, for romantic, sexual or physical love. That's a very real possibility. And one I've been starting to question. I can't decide if it's a problem or not. My insticts tell me that if I haven't had a moral problem with it thus far (and neither have the friends involved... this isn't a one-sided equation), then I shouldn't start now. But then I wonder if I'm somehow limiting myself, or protecting myself, by only being with these people I know so well and who know me.

Certainly, I'm less likely to get hurt this way. If we already have some substantial trust established, then it's that much easier to be vulnerable with said partner. But is that really what relationships are about? And what's more, are these even truly romantic relationships? Or have these all simply been friends with benefits situations? And is there anything wrong with that?

This is all sparked by a turn of events over the past few weeks. About two weeks ago, I went to northern Spain on a class field trip to ride horses and hike. It was a great time, especially since I so love riding. As I mentioned in my HNT post from that week, I was going without Crush or anyone else to snuggle up with and keep me warm. I was, however, going with Crush's roommate, who we'll from here on out refer to as The Texan. The Texan and I have a few classes together, and have been bonding as of late. We hang out a lot, and (again, as a consequence of my super-openness about sexuality), he recently came out to me as bisexual. I was excited to have a fellow in the program (which might sound weird, but it's nice to know you're not the only one) and then kind of flabergasted when he told me that he's not out to ANYONE ELSE. On a side-note, he's by no means the first person who's come out to me before anyone else... I'd love to say it's because I'm so open or accepting or something, but I don't know. I do take it pretty seriously, though, and when I'm asked to keep the information quiet, I do so. (Again, the advantages of blogging anonymously. Yay!) Anyway... he and I have been spending quite a bit of time together since he came out to me, and he's been a really amazing friend. We've become ridiculously close in a short amount of time.

So the second night of this class trip in northern Spain, the Texan and I went out to a bar together. He poured out his heart to me about his (non-exclusive) boyfriend back home, we talked about it, he started asking me about my love life. So I talked to him about Crush. (Who is, again, The Texan's roommate here in Spain.) Basically, The Texan let me down easy. Telling me Crush does really like hanging out with me, so on and so forth, but that he doesn't think it goes any farther. And I was surprisingly OK with that. I pushed the issue a little farther, though, and asked about if I just wanted to make out with Crush - pointing out that I wasn't looking for a relationship or anything serious. "Oh, well, yeah, that you could totally do!" The Texan responded emphatically. I thought it was relatively funny at the time, and we went on drinking.

Upon further examination, I decided something, though. (And this was, actually, largely facilitated by The Texan.) I don't want to be someone's backup. I don't want to be just good enough. I want to be worth having. I AM worth having. And I'm tired of settling for people who are settling for me. I don't have to.

So that has kind of changed my perception on Crush. He actually hasn't done anything wrong, and I'm not in the least angry with him. I intend to keep hanging out with him and enjoying his company. I just don't expect anything more. And I think that's a good thing.

Then last week, the night before I left for Denmark, The Texan texted me and asked if I'd come out with him for a few drinks. We always have a blast together, and tend to be similarly lush when it comes to consumption of alcohol, so of course I accepted. Granted, it was a Wednesday night, so the bars were less than hopping. But it was actually a fantastic opportunity to really talk. We went bar-hopping, and spent most of the time talking about our various pasts (the advantage of making new friends is that there's never a shortage of stories to tell), and talking a lot about sexuality. I asked him if it was hard being closeted, he answered with suprising honesty. There was more bar hopping.

And then, I couldn't tell you how, we were kissing. Really kissing. His hands on my chin, pulling me to him, my arms around his shoulders. It was the frenzied (admittedly drunken) passionate kind of kiss that I haven't experienced in quite some time. And, to quote Jay Brannan "his kiss matched mine so perfectly..." After leading my by hand to what was our fourth bar of the night, we took a cab home - which he insisted on taking with me to my place even though it would make it twice as expensive for him. I tried to convince him otherwise, and he looked at me like I was crazy for thinking he'd leave without knowing I was home safely. It was unnecessary, but a nice gesture nonetheless. There was a kiss goodbye in the cab, and then we each went our separate ways.

So here's the catch. I felt incredibly guilty the next morning. The details of the end of the evening are a little fuzzy (hence why they weren't more detailed in my recounting) but the things I remember are quite clear. I don't think the kissing arose from anything particularly romantic, and have a sneaking suspicion it was one of those "let's be those obnoxious people in the bar who seem really happy making out with each other." To the best of my recollection, it was a simple friendly makeout session. I've had countless. So I can't quite figure out why this time is making me feel so guilty.

Well, that's not entirely true. I think I feel like I took advantage of him. And while I don't know whose idea it was to start making out, and I know he was obviously not complaining too much, as he was kissing back, I feel like I have all this information about him, and he's trusted me with it, and what do I do? I jump him. (Well, not exactly. But you all know what I mean.)

I need your help here. I've talked to him about the night and we're both avoiding it and I don't want to make it awkward for either of us. (Our conversation wasn't in the least uncomfortable, though.) So, provided that talking to him about it isn't an option... what do I do about this guilt? Is it warranted in the first place?

*lesigh.*

Thursday, November 13, 2008

quickie

How does one explain why one has sex toys in her carryon luggage... in SPANISH?

This is what I learned today,

Luckily, the security lady was nice and just complimented the quality of the blue glass dildo I had

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

HNT: Bird's eye view

Well, if you're a bird perched precariously atop my cleavage. Or this could just be a Sasha-eye view. Looking straight down at my feet, this is what I see.

Life has been so hectic and negative and serious as of late, I figured I'd post a silly HNT. I actually didn't think I'd post this one, but it seemed oddly appropriate for my life right now.

HHNT, everyone!

*blushes*

The charming Roland Hulme just informed me that he'd given me an award. Eep! Here's the award:
And here's what he wrote about me. (Eep, agian!)

I'm always so surprised when these things happen... Really, I feel so flattered when these people I read and respect bother to comment on my blog, let alone compliment it. And then, awards? Well, that I don't even know how to deal with. So there is MUCH blushing.

Also, Roland, might I say how much I enjoy the word smexy? It's fabulous. And I very much appreciate the fact that the award talks about brain-power, also. In all honesty, I started this blog because I was kind of tired of being that smart girl who no one realized might be physically attractive until AFTER they got to know her. But I like to think the blog has turned into something a little bit beyond that... and it's touching to see that other people might just agree with me.

I really have no words for this. I'm so flattered. Thank you, Roland!

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

playing catch-up.

I have a lot to say.
A lot has happened in the past week.
Some of it has been good.
Some of it has, once again, turned my world upside down.
At least this time, I'm taking solace in friends. It's good to trust people sometimes. Especially when they respond in kind and don't let you down.

I wish I had something coherent to say about the elections. It's a strange experience being so removed here from such an important time in my home country. I am, of course, elated about Obama. I've been playing catch-up watching the speeches and everything, and I agree with Friend, it was a profoundly moving experience.

But then there's Prop 8. I wish I had the right words to say. But speaking of moving speeches, Keith Olbermann summed it up better than I ever could.


You can see him trying to maintain composure. I think it's stunning. I would very much like to meet him some day.


I'm going to Denmark this weekend to spend a long weekend with my family, so I'll once again be out of reach. Don't worry though, as always, there will be an HNT on auto-post. At least I'm reliable about one thing. And for those of you who I read, I'm playing catch-up there, too. Comments are coming, I promise. Just as soon as I have a minute to breathe.

Besos.
Sasha.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

HNT: Warming things up...

I'll be gone this weekend to the north of Spain, where I'll be horseback riding and hiking. Of course, it's currently snowing in the north of Spain. Which means I'll be very cold.

In that spirit, I thought I'd post a picture with the coat I'll be taking along with me. Hopefully it'll keep me warm enough, since I'll be lacking Crush or other interests to offer me warm-up hugs. sadface.


Granted, I suppose I'll wear a little more than this when we're hiking.

(Also, this is the coat I bought in Ireland. I basically live in it. And it's from a store called Sasha. No joke. I couldn't resist, of course.)

Sunday, November 2, 2008

Sugasm.151

The best of this week’s blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Highlighting the top 3 posts as chosen by Sugasm participants. Want in Sugasm #152? Submit a link to your best post of the week by emailing me directly at radicalvixenatgmaildotcom Participants, repost the link list within a week and you’re all set.

This Week’s Picks
Help, My Friend Says I Have an Ugly Vagina!
“Say no to vagina prejudice!”

“Kiss My Boots.”
“One of the more unexpected hairpin turns I navigated in my “Coming Out” into BDSM involved a series of moments that were deceptively simple, perhaps even innocent, in a way.”

Yours, Sir
“I felt and then heard a low rumble of a slightly sadistic chuckle from him.”

Mr. Sugasm Himself
Sugar Bank

Editor’s Choice
Sass And The Sadist

More Sugasm
Join the Sugasm

See also: Fleshbot’s Sex Blog Roundup each Tuesday and Friday.