Thursday, May 28, 2009

Getting Settled.

Well, things are calming down. I am still without my own computer, but I've moved in with a good friend for the next few weeks until my roommate gets back and we can get our own place. It's amazing what just getting out of my mother's house has done for my mood. I'm living with my friend, her partner, and their adorable toddler. They are laid-back and fabulous, and I love playing with their daughter. And the fact that peek-a-boo is endlessly entertaining to her.

I'm still in limbo when it comes to my career, although I am freelancing, and STILL negotiating my way into a web-editor-ship. I hope. The meetings keep getting rescheduled, which is frustrating, but I'm not willing to give up hope. I am starting to look more seriously at other options, though, although this position is my first choice, so I'm hesitant to let it go.

Holy run-on sentence, Batman!

Anyway. Yes, things are falling into place. Also, thanks to the lovely Essin' Em's help, I'm going to start reviewing for a few companies. So, expect those in the coming weeks. Who knows, maybe I'll even get some of my partners to play with these new toys with me.

And there are new posts in the works, too. I know it's been a while since I've written any smut. I'll be fixing that. There are things I want to explore here, so those are forthcoming. I promise. Thank you to those of you still reading, things are looking up.

Sunday, May 24, 2009

such. bullshit.

Yup, the title hopefully accurately conveys how emo and whiney this post is going to be. I apologize in advance, I'm just pissed off.

So, this is precisesly why I KNEW I couldn't live at home. To bring everyone up to speed, I've graduated and moved back about 10 days ago. Since then, I've been staying at my mother's house, with the express understanding that it is a temporary setting until my roommate returns from across the world in a few days. I figured I could handle a few weeks here - after all, I hadn't been home in something like four months... so no big deal, right?

Wrong. So. Fucking. Wrong.

At the moment, there are four of us living in the three-bedroom condo - myself, my 17-year-old sister, my mother and her freshly-minted serious boyfriend. (Seriously, he moved in after something like two weeks of them dating. Nice one, mom.) It's a three-story condo, although the basement has a crack in the foundation and floods every time it rains, so basicaly it's a two-story condo. In any case, it isn't especially cramped with the four of us. My sister and I each have our own rooms, so there's some level of privacy. At least ostensibly.

So, a few nights ago, a friend of mine from high school came over after we'd spent the evening out with some old mutual friends (more on that in another post, perhaps). I should preface this all by saying that there has never been any kind of sexual activity with this friend. I dated his best friend for quite a while, and actually, when we were freshmen in high school, he had a crush on me, but that's the extent of our romantic entanglements. We went to a tiny high school, and as such, are still both friends with several people from that school. We all hang out together somewhat frequently when we're all back in town. Nothing new there. After hanging out with friends at a bar and then at another friends' house, he and I came back to my house to finish our six-packs. By the end of those, we had concluded that neither of us should be driving. We came upstairs, climbed into my bed, and went to sleep.

I texted my mother in the morning letting her know my friend (who she knows well) was in the house so she or her boyfriend wouldn't be startled when she saw him walking around. My sister had been outside drinking with us the night before, so she already knew to expect him. As it turned out, no one was awake by the time I walked him to the door and said goodbye.

Then last night, this same friend and I got together at his house to watch a basketball game. After a heartbreaking loss, we came back to my house together with a bottle of wine and a few beers to drown our sorrows. As the temperature had cooled off to almost chilly, we decided to hang out in my room instead of outside. My mother and her boyfriend were home and expecting us as I'd texted them, so we said hello and went upstairs with the wine and a couple glasses. Being friends for so long, we're quite comfortable with each other, and conversation comes easily. We talked all the way through a bottle of zinfandel, and soon needed something else to drink. We went downstairs to get our beers from the fridge, where we ran into my mother and her boyfriend again.

My friend has apparently started hooking up with someone back at school (he goes in-state), and had a fading hickey on his neck. My mother's boyfriend asked him what it was. My friend shrugged (he hasn't told me the details, either), and said he didn't know. Then my mother's boyfriend leans over to my friend and says "how do you guys kiss with that thing in her mouth?" (Referring to my lip ring.) "Don't it get in the way?"

And then I just about died. I didn't even know what to say. I was fucking mortified. And embarassed, mostly for putting my friend in this super-awkward situation. My mtoher finally caught on and said something like "Uhm, honey, I think you may be implying things that aren't accurate..."

Her boyfriend kept chuckling and probing at us. I just took the beer and bolted upstairs. My friend and I were able to basically laugh it off, but that doesn't mean it wasn't exceedingly awkward, and we both drank our beers a little faster than we needed to. About 3 am, we went to sleep.

I took him home in the morning, and then came home and took a nap because I'd only gotten about four hours of sleep. Somewhere during that nap, my little sister came in to my room to close the window because it was raining outside (and she apparently concluded I couldn't do it myself? Whatever.), and asked why I was so tired and who I had over last night. I told her, and pointed out that my friend and I had been up late talking, like we always do. "Uh huhhhhh. Talking, I'm suuuurreee." She giggled.

And then I wanted to throw something at her.

I'm not sure why this particular reminder that my family thinks I'm a whore was so upsetting. I mean, I've known they thought that for some time now. But there was something particularly offensive about them both assuming that, clearly, if I had a friend over, I must have fucked them. Because I can't keep my hands off anyone. I am some voracious sexual carnivore. Or at least a cheap, easy slut.

I was particularly put off by my mother's boyfriend. I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it, and he lacks some serious social graces, but it's hard for me to believe he even had a right to comment when I've known the man for 10 days. I don't think a week and a half of knowing you gives you the right to comment on what you percieve as my promiscuity. (According to my mother, he has a serious problem accepting non-monogamy, even in those relationships around him.) Sure, I guess I wouldn't have a problem had he just said something to my mother about it in private, or even, maybe, asked me about it... NOT in front of the friend being discussed. That's just tactless. And really makes me feel fucking cheap. I mean, that's just not something you DO.

And then I'm sure my little sister was just being a shit, but it was the icing on the cake. I am SO tired of them judging me for how I live my life. Especially my sister knows that my bed is this kind of magical place - there are cuddle puddles, late-night talks, and yes, sometimes romps. But she knows about all the people I'm sleeping with - at least in some sense. And actually, at the moment, that number is only two people. So it was frustrating that she would give me shit about something she knew wasn't true.

And it reminds me so poignantly why I don't want to live at home. Having these people in my life, being able to conduct my relationships - romantic and otherwise - the way I want to, is crucially important to me. I refuse to sacrifice my relationships because someone doesn't approve. But shit like this makes me want to just run away, and never tell anyone in my family anything about my life ever again. Especially my sister is so judgmental - I haven't been able to tell her about Edward and how he's stalking me, although I really should since there's a chance he'll come back to the house. It's not because I don't want to keep her safe or informed, but because I know she'll chastise me for ever having been with him in the first place. And that is SO not the right reaction when someone tells you something like that. She just doesn't know how to do empathy. At all. And I understand that she's 17 and that means the world revolves around her, but I just can't handle it.

So I think I'm either done bringing anyone home, or I'm going to start bringing everyone of my friends home for the night, regardless of whether I'm sleeping with them or not, regardless of whether I'm even attracted to them. Maybe that would fuck with my family's head even more. They just wouldn't know how I could POSSIBLY be sleeping with that many people. Maybe because, yknow, I'M NOT.

Fuck this noise. I need to get out of this house. I'm a grown up and I shouldn't have to be curbing my relationships and the way I live my life for other people.

I should mention that overall, I'm a pretty considerate roommate/houseguest/grown daughter living at home. I do the dishes, cook at least a few times a week, help pay for groceries, am considerate of quiet hours, and clean up after myself and others. I don't think I deserve to be judged and treated like some sexually deviant delinquent. And I'm fucking tired of it.

Friday, May 22, 2009

I'm not dead!

But my computer still is. I'm still trying to get a new one, and secure a job - which is taking WAY more negotiation than I ever thought it would - and working on finding an apartmentm which will probably result in me living with a friend for a few weeks because I'm losing my mind in my mother's house...

So yeah, I'm a little busy. But I suppose that's better than not being bored. I am doing some freelancing, so at least I can say I'm a working journalist. And I have things planned for this blog, not the least of which is catching up on all of you lovely blogosphere friends who I haven't had a chance to read in the past month.

But I'm alive, and things are well. Just on a hiatus. I'm hoping that will end in the next week or so. In the meantime, though, I'm sending lots of good energy to all of you!

Sunday, May 3, 2009

There are worse things I could do...

So, first off, I apologize for the absence of late. My computer is completely dead, and I'm graduating in a matter of days, so I'm relatively incomunicado. But there's nothing wrong - I'm just busy and frustrated with my computer situation. And it's hard to write smut in the communal computer labs on campus. Which doesn't stop me all together, but still... yknow, it complicates things.

There are things to write about, including the Viking pulling a kind of dick move a few nights ago. (This is what happens when I admit to myself I like someone... I find a way to screw it up. And end up walking home alone in the rain at 4am. Sigh.)

Anyway, in my effort to, I don't know, put off studying for my law exam - my last college exam EVER - I found myself watching Grease last night. Like the Pilot jokingly tells me "You know you're queer when..." you do silly things like LOVE cheesy 70s musicals. Well, yeah. It's true. I know most people love the classics like "Summer Lovin'" and "Greased Lightnin'," but THIS has always been my favorite song. From my favorite character. I've always kind of identified with Rizzo. Is anyone really surprised? I mean, c'mon, the opening lyrics to this song are "There are worse things I could do than go with a boy, or two..." Yeah, welcome to my life.

So, for your viewing pleasure, enjoy today's musical obsession.



Rizzo's rather misunderstood for most of the film, and that's what this song is really about, and maybe why I identify with it so much. But I should mention a warm-fuzzy conversation I had with one of my best girlfriends back home the other day. We were talking on the phone, which is a little unusual for us (it's usually text or facebook), and we, of course, got to talking about our lovers. She knows nonboyfriend as well, and at some point the conversation turned to him. And I mentioned that I hope I get to see him when I get back - something I'm not sure about, because he gets jumpy around me when he's got a girlfriend. So do some other people, in regard to he and I - like I'm going to jump him, in total disregard for the exclusive relationship he's chosen to be in. Aside from the overly assertive confidence and predatory credit this belief gives me, it's rather ridiculous. And my friend said that - she even phrased it like it was something she's said to other people about me. "What people don't seem to get about you, Sasha, is that you would NEVER do that. It's like, Sasha wouldn't screw around with his relationship. She's too honest for that." Or something like that. And it was just this really lovely moment, and made me feel so wonderful that someone understands it. Understands where I'm coming from with all this, and that just because I'm not monogamous doesn't mean I'm automatically a man-eating, insatiable whore. And then, of course, it was nice to know that my effort to be honest and open in my relationships hasn't gone unnoticed. Because I really have been making an effort, and I think I've been doing a decent job, even if sometimes it means I'm alone more often than I'd like to be.

Sigh.

Anyway, she reads this blog, and I just thought I'd write a post about it and let her know how much I appreciated what she said. I miss you, sweetie! And will see you soon!