HNT: Celebrate!

Two weekends ago was Essin Em's 23rd birthday party. We were to come in costume, as a myth, tall tale or fable. She was looking fine as the White Rabbit, and I managed to create a Megara (yes, from Hercules) costume out of an old pink broomstick skirt.

The night was a fabulous time. There was truth or dare - in which I got to make out with an adorable girl whose number I later got - chocolate body paint - which Em licked off my chest.. yes there are photos, no, you can't see them...hehe - and delicious drinks. There was also a pretty heavy snowstorm that night, so getting home was a bit of an adventure, but things aren't fun without a little adventure.

So here's our first photo of the night, posing shamelessly. I really love this photo, although P has already given me shit for the cut of the dress. But like I told Em, if there was ever a party where it was OK to show up in an outfit that easily showed your underwear, it would be her birthday.

Happy birthday, again, dearest.
And Merry Christmas to those who celebrate.
And Happy Hannukah to those who celebrate.
And Happy Yule to my fellow pagans.
And happymerry wintertime holiday celebration to you and yours.

And, of course, HHNT!

my reputation...

..preceeds me, apparently.

*emotional rant warning*

I've written before about owning my reputation. I really do - I don't make apologies for how I live my life, with the exception being, of course, if I've hurt someone along the way. I have, admittedly, hurt people, and for that I am sorry. But those experiences have allowed me to learn what I need to do to avoid hurting people, at least in that fashion, in the future.

So I will say this: I am a slut.

I know this. I own this. I don't have a problem with this. I am safe, I act with everyone involved's knowledge and consent, and I truly believe that my behavior doesn't take away from the inherent quality of any given relationship I might be in. I don't mind people calling me such names, and while it isn't always with the positive affirming tone I might apply myself, it is for precisesly that reason that I have reclaimed such a title.

But while I don't mind people calling me such, it still stings a little when people imply that I can't control myself. I've written about this one other time, and the basic problem was that it portrays me as predatory. And not in a good, I-go-after-what-I-want kind of way... but instead in a I-destroy-everything-in-my-path sort of way. I don't like thinking of myself like that, I think because it isn't particularly true.

I'm back home. Around old friends, and new ones... re-defining relationships as always seems to be the pattern when I come home. That's all fine and good. And in fact, I've been largely surprised at how willing people have been to move forward with relationships, and finally let old shit be bygone. It's a good thing. But it makes it that much worse when I don't receive the benefit of the doubt that maybe I've grown up, too.

And to the specifics. In being back home, it means I'm back in the same area as nonboyfriend. As you might recall, things with him ended amicably, but not uncertainly. Neither of us had any delusions of staying together (even in our non-relationship relationship) or allegiance to the other or needing to wait for each other or anything of the sort. I did assume, as I understood did he, that when we were both back in town we'd go back to being friends like we've always been. I haven't seen him yet, which is fine. But I have seen several of our mutual friends. Which has also, by and large, been a good thing. And every one of these friends has made sure to point out to me that he's seeing someone now. OK. Harmless enough.

Except that after the fourth or fifth time of hearing it, it gets harder to ignore the tone that makes it sound less like "did you hear he has a girlfriend?" and more like "you know he has a girlfriend now, so you'd better back off. You really shouldn't go in and mess this up for him." As though that were the ONLY possible outcome of my seeing him. Not only can I apparently not control myself around him, but I apparently also have zero respect for the boundaries of his relationship.

I admit, I don't have the greatest track record with other people - although it should be noted that neither nonboyfriend nor I have ever done anything that could remotely be considered cheating or even being in the wrong. But this doesn't matter, I suppose.

And so in my frustration, I was explicit in telling him, when I asked him "if we could hang out," that I actually meant "go grab a drink and catch up" and not, yknow, "I'm going to jump you." Which he only responded to AFTER I made that clarification.

I guess I'm not really angry. I'm not really anything. I guess it's warranted. But it does make it difficult to maintain this sex-positive, healthy self-image when the people you care about think things like this about you. le sigh.

*end of rant.*

Bad blogger, bad!

I'm sorry.

I deserve a slap on the wrists.

At the very least.

I've been strikingly absent from this lovely little world that is the blogosphere for quite some time now. I even missed an HNT. And for that, dear readers, I apologize. I don't like leaving people hanging - It's not my style. So I am sorry for doing that to those of you who so graciously read my blog regularly. (I'm still mildly astonished that I have regular readers... eep!)

On the positive side, my absence has NOT been due to anything terrible or tragic befalling me. The truth of the matter is, I've simply been busy. And stuck with a 56K dial-up connection. Just loading the Blogger homepage takes a solid 10 minutes, and then I can't trust that the connection won't crap out on me and destroy one of my ohsobrilliant compositions.

However, I should have internet for the next week or so, since I'm staying at a different house - I'm kind of doing the couch-surfing thing this break... and I'm going to do my best to catch up on the backlog of posts by those of you I so enjoy reading (expect noting sprees) and, of course, more of the incessant rambling that we all know and love about my ridiculous escapades and crazy thoughts.

In the meantime, though, happy wintertime-we-need-something-to-cheer-us-up-during-the-increasingly-long-dark-hours-festivities. And as of today, we can happily start seeing more sun - gotta love the solstice.

Fiestas felices,

Sasha.

HNT: Adios a Espana

This is the last of the Spanish HNTs. There's nothing particularly Spanish about it, other than the fact that you can see more of my room than in any other photo, I believe. Granted, you can also see a whole lot of me. Hope you don't mind.





HHNT!

(belated)HNT: The Texan

I wasn't going to post an HNT this week, but after my flight got delayed by three hours in Spain, making it just long enough to force me to miss my flight back home, I find myself alone in a hotel room with reliable, free internet for the first time in months.

And reflecting on a most ridiculous last night in Spain. The Texan insisted I come out with him and, literally, everyone else in the program. Usually this is entirely not my style, but since I didn't know when I'd be seeing The Texan again and we always have a good time together and, well, it WAS my last night in Spain, I went. We started off with a botellon in a random plaza with everyone... Of course The Texan and I were pretty much attached at the hip the whole night. He started tearing up, as he's the only one from his school in the program, which will inevitably make it more difficult (although not impossible) to keep in touch with people. He stepped aside, I followed him to check on him, offer my shoulder for crying. (Which is kind of a funny thing to see as he's got a solid 7-9 inches on me, but we make it work.) The conversation quickly turned to his and my friendship, and I promised him he'd be tired of hearing from me before I'd ever let our friendship fade. He looked at me, tears still in his eyes, and thanked me. Told me that he'd never had a friend who accepted him so unconditionally. I told him anyone who would try to tell him he needed to be something he isn't doesn't deserve him.

And then he pulled me to him and kissed me. It was sweet, friendly, and very much full of love.

The night progressed in that general fashion, both of us continuing to drink, and by the second disco we hit up, dancing exclusively with one another. There was much more making out. I got to make out to some of my favorite songs to dance to - which is always fun, especially because I'm a sap and I like romantic songs... Of course, there's only so innocent such things can be. So, without further adieu, I present The Texan's handiwork:


Not that it's the worst hickey I've ever gotten, but it is a fun little reminder of the night. And the chills I'd get when he was biting me. God I've missed that.

I'm SO ready to be home. Are you ready for me?

HHNT! (Friday, OK, OK.)

Apologies..

In place of an HNT.

It is my final 48 hours en Espana. As such, I'm spending them with friends and many, many bottles of wine.

We will return you to your regularly scheduled blogging following the weekend and the dissolution of Jetlag.