...when I'm not around?
This is partially inspired by Essin' Em's post about her tendency to start having sex with people (including myself) right before they leave for extended periods of time, and partially by the goings-on of the end of the summer and my time thus far here in Spain.
As I've mentioned, I had a fabulous summer. Fantastic friends, a great internship where I got some amazing clips for my portfolio (and a job offer), and a house in an amazingly vibrant part of town that was central to almost all of those amazing friends. Also, my sex life was, well, really good. I was not only getting laid regularly, but it was really good sex. Primarily with one person for the bulk of the summer, although there were a few others before this person and I got together and one after we knew we weren't going to see each other again. (Which, as I've written about, turned out to be exactly what I needed.) So I knew it was going to be a little rough - perhaps more than usual - to adjust to life in a different country where I didn't know ANYONE when I had enjoyed being so comfortable in my environment. And it has been difficult. I'm getting there, but it's slow going.
This is not a post about the fact that I haven't gotten laid since I've been here. That's actually OK. Although I'd be lying if I said I wasn't feeling some skin hunger and an increasing desire to make out with someone. But this isn't a post about that, because that's about all there is to say about that. Instead, this is about my friends back in the states and a tendency of a certain one or two to flake on me when we're in the same state, but then profess their devotion when I'm gone.
Backstory on the worst culprit: I've known him basically forever, and we've been through a hell of a lot, generally based upon the fact that we can never seem to have feelings for one another at the same time. For quite a while, he wanted me and I didn't want him, then I wanted him and he thought I was a raging bitch (which, admittedly, I can be), and then we - for the most part - got our shit together and liked one another at the same time. We've never dated, due in large part to the fact that he lives a few hours away from where I live only a few months of the year, and he's not especially reliable. At the beginning of the summer, though, on a whim (and when I had the car), I drove the 90 minutes to see him. In the middle of the night. We didn't sleep at all that night, and had sex in all kinds of "unconventional" places. (There WAS something wonderful about wearing 5" heels and being bent over the hood of a car while it was pulled off a side-road in the woods.) And this was when I was still suffering - a word I use fully intentionally - from my inability-to-have-an-orgasm-with-a-partner brokenness. Well, he fixed that. Three times in a row. Needless to say, I couldn't keep standing in those heels because my legs and my entire body had turned to putty in his hands. Then I didn't see him again for the rest of the summer.
Not for lack of trying, though. We stayed in relatively regular contact, and I asked him (he who has a paying job and a car compared to my lack of both) several times to come see me. I invited him for weekends, for sleepless nights, for day trips. There were a few times where he said he was coming down, and then never showed. I accepted that I wasn't going to see him and told him so.
Now that I'm on the other side of the world, he's been in strikingly regular contact with me. Telling me how much he misses me. What he's going to do to me when I get back stateside. Telling me how I've "ruined" his fantasy sex life because he no longer fantasizes about a variety of women, just about me. That he misses me so much it's palpable. We instant messaged a day or two ago, and I gave him my cell phone number here. He promised he'd call. He hasn't. But this morning, I woke up to this message from him on facebook:
No i am not ignoring you, I'm currently over-enveloped by certain business ventures I can't delve into... meow kisses and hugs,
- Your boy
Unprovoked. I hadn't given him shit about not calling me. But I assume he was just checking in. Making sure I wasn't upset with him. And signing it "your boy..." it actually made me smile. And get a little bit of the warm fuzzies.
But here's my question: Why is he doing this now? Now that I'm gone? Why is he making such an effort to stay in contact with me, tell me he misses me, now that I'm away? Because, in reality, our inability to see one another is the same as it's been since the beginning of the summer. It's nothing new.
And he's not the only person doing it. There are another one or two people, as well, he's just the most prevalent right now. So why am I more attractive when I'm not around? Is there something about my physical presence that makes me less intriguing? And shouldn't it technically go the other way around?
*mew.*
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
quote of the week
Just a short entry tonight as I'm counting down the last few days left until I get to Madrid... We're currently in Mallorca, which is basically paradise. I've not only found my wedding dress here, I've found a place to have the wedding. Now I just need the person to marry. Heh. Details, details.
Anyways, today we were at a Monestary in the northern mountains of Mallorca, at a place where Chopin actually lived for a while (on a side-note, I got to see original drafts of his hand-written music, as well as original manuscripts of George Sands' "Winter in Mallorca." Pretty awesome. If you're a nerd like me and into that kind of stuff, anyway.)... and our profesor, who was leading our group - he's my favorite of the four chaperones/profesores on this trip - was pointing out the traditional dormitorio of a monk of the Franciscan order who would have lived in this monastery. (It was basically an exhibit in the museum, with authentic artifacts.) He was discussing the life and devotion of a monk, and pointing to various items displayed in the room: bed, basin for bathing, etc. And then he said this:
"Aqui esta una cosa por auto flagelacion.. eh? Self-flagellation? Yes, in the 13th century, monks would beat themselves to show their devotion. Now, it's kinky!"
And then I died laughing. Everyone else kind of giggled, and I had to try my best not to look too much like I got the joke a little TOO well. Although he totally called me on it, and (half-jokingly) asked me to explain to one of my fellow classmates.
I thought you all would enjoy that. When I get to Madrid, I should be able to upload photos, which means I can catch up on the HNT photos I've missed. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to jump on that bandwagon immediately before leaving the country for the rest of the year. Ah well.
Besos por todos!
Anyways, today we were at a Monestary in the northern mountains of Mallorca, at a place where Chopin actually lived for a while (on a side-note, I got to see original drafts of his hand-written music, as well as original manuscripts of George Sands' "Winter in Mallorca." Pretty awesome. If you're a nerd like me and into that kind of stuff, anyway.)... and our profesor, who was leading our group - he's my favorite of the four chaperones/profesores on this trip - was pointing out the traditional dormitorio of a monk of the Franciscan order who would have lived in this monastery. (It was basically an exhibit in the museum, with authentic artifacts.) He was discussing the life and devotion of a monk, and pointing to various items displayed in the room: bed, basin for bathing, etc. And then he said this:
"Aqui esta una cosa por auto flagelacion.. eh? Self-flagellation? Yes, in the 13th century, monks would beat themselves to show their devotion. Now, it's kinky!"
And then I died laughing. Everyone else kind of giggled, and I had to try my best not to look too much like I got the joke a little TOO well. Although he totally called me on it, and (half-jokingly) asked me to explain to one of my fellow classmates.
I thought you all would enjoy that. When I get to Madrid, I should be able to upload photos, which means I can catch up on the HNT photos I've missed. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to jump on that bandwagon immediately before leaving the country for the rest of the year. Ah well.
Besos por todos!
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
How little we've changed
So, here comes the first SOBER entry from Spain. Heh. It will, hopefully, be a little more intelligent than my last entry.
We've been traveling around the Mediterranean coast of Spain, and doing all sorts of academic-touristy things like going to museums and ancient ruins and what not. In the past few days, we've gone to several exhibits of ancient Roman and Grecian art, and discussed a few times, the cult of the phallus. And of course, we saw all kinds of sculptures glorifying the human body. And what's interesting to me is how little the human form has changed in the past, what, 3000 years? I saw sculptures that very closely resembled my own body (and I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't somewhat validating to be remindded that at one point in time, society glorified those of us with curves and even without entirely flat stomachs). The phallic sculptures were also particularly interesting, because they were sculptures of, from what I could tell, ciurcumcized penises. I suppose I knew the practice was that old, but I had never really put two and two together.
And of course, there isn't really anyone here I can discuss these observations with, so you, dear readers, get to be my audience. I'm sure you feel special. I should stop typing now. Mucho drama going on with the group. Apparently we're all in middle school again. Oh. JOY.
We've been traveling around the Mediterranean coast of Spain, and doing all sorts of academic-touristy things like going to museums and ancient ruins and what not. In the past few days, we've gone to several exhibits of ancient Roman and Grecian art, and discussed a few times, the cult of the phallus. And of course, we saw all kinds of sculptures glorifying the human body. And what's interesting to me is how little the human form has changed in the past, what, 3000 years? I saw sculptures that very closely resembled my own body (and I'd be lying if I said that it wasn't somewhat validating to be remindded that at one point in time, society glorified those of us with curves and even without entirely flat stomachs). The phallic sculptures were also particularly interesting, because they were sculptures of, from what I could tell, ciurcumcized penises. I suppose I knew the practice was that old, but I had never really put two and two together.
And of course, there isn't really anyone here I can discuss these observations with, so you, dear readers, get to be my audience. I'm sure you feel special. I should stop typing now. Mucho drama going on with the group. Apparently we're all in middle school again. Oh. JOY.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
my adventura primera.
OK. I should start this out by prefacing that I'm writing on a different keyboard, in a different country, and I've been speaking so much Spanish lately that English is becoming surprisingly difficult a hablar (to speak) y a pensar (to think in). But, a quick story. Also, keep in mind that it's 5 am here. I'm just getting home from the bars.
I think I would really like Spanish culture. Especially were I alone or with just one or two of my friends. It is one of my favorite things ever to meet new people, especially from other countries, and this is a great place to do that. Thus far, I've had extended conversations with people from Guatemala, Puerto Rico, Ireland, Britain, Spain, Germany... and I've been here three days.
But because I'm here with a school trip, I feel a little like a small child. Our coordinators have every detail planned. They take us to lunch, but don't tell us what we're eating (and consequently, we don't order, it's just put in front of us), where we're going... only when we need to be places. And we follow blindly. I'm not used to that. I cherish my independence. So this is something entirely new.
Also, the people on the trip... God, they're so contrary to the people I was lucky enough to spend my summer with. I hate to stereotype, but they're for the most part sorority girls... and I, with my tattoos and piercings and not-size-2 waist, simply don't fit in. God forbid I tell them I'm queer. I mentioned some of my sexual exploits to one when we were playing "never have I ever," and she got all...judge-y. I really have no tolerance for that shit. Especially when my summer was spent with people who validate and appreciate me. The last thing I need is some psuedo-prude princess telling me I'm fucked up because I've had a few threesomes. Dude, in my opinion, SHE could use a good fuck. Might pull that stick out of her ass. Who knows.
ANYWAYS. Tonight, I went with the other non-sorority girls to the pier, basically. It's a total tourist trap, which is not my style, but my roommate was feeling homesick and wanted to drink away her sorrows, and I could empathize, so I went. We had a good time, overall. We really did. Now here's the backstory as to why it's 5:10 am and I'm sitting at a computer in my hotel, hair still damp.
I have a little bit of a crush (in the most High-School sense of the word) on a boy in our program. We'll call him Mateo. He's very much my type, with the gorgeous blue eyes and the little bit shaggy blonde hair, and with the lacrosse he plays, he reminds me a little of everyone's favorite missed opportunity. Periodically, I feel like we connect, but I get the impression it's something that, if there, he can't show to his friends, because, well, I'm NOT the sorority girl. I have curves. And piercings. And tattoos. And would probably be the best he's ever had. But in all likelihood, he'll never know.
Anyways, I went out with the girls tonight, dancing and drinking. We met up with the boys a few hours into the evening (which, here, doesn't start til midnight at the earliest) and kept dancing. Mateo showed up, and I took every opportunity I had to talk to him. We get along well, and we both know it. But there was no dancing, no grinding, no making out. (God, I want someone to make out with. Another post to come about how fabulous kissing is.) I was getting ready to leave because I was bumming, and as I went to tell them I was leaving, he said I should come to the beach and smoke with them. Now, I don't smoke, and particularly not pot (only under very specific circumstances, none of which this satisfied), but I thought I might get somewhere if I joined. So I went. We wandered to the beach, Mateo bought some hash from some French men. And then my roommate and out mutual friend started talking about going into the ocean.
Before I knew it, I'd dropped trou and top, and went sprinting into the mediterranian, holding hands with my roommate. The water was surprisingly warm for the hour, the sand below incredibly smooth, until I hit the rocks. Maybe next HNT will be my scraped-up knee. The water was salty, but the waves were gentle and caressed my skin. My roommate and our mutual friend hit it off earlier that evening, and he was hitting on her the whole time. We saw Mateo standing at the shore, and I called for him to join us. Without hesitation, he stripped down and joined us. Sprinted, with abandon into the mediterranian, and dove into the water in front of me. Almost tackled me in the process. I would have let him, too.
My roommate and mutual friend did a better job at holding on to their undergarments than Mateo and I did. They got out of the water, leaving Mateo and I stark naked, and promising they'd bring our clothes to us at the shore. They didn't come back for quite some time. Mateo kept saying my name, over and over. Asking me what we should do. He asked if I'd walk up the beach with him. In naked solidarity. I said I would. And so we did.
So I can now add "swam naked in the mediterranian" "with a cute boy" to my list of fabulous moments of my life. I was so happy. And at peace. I could have existed forever en that moment. Dios mio.
It's 5:30am. Time for bed. Alone, sadly. Tomorrow, we travel to Tarragona. New city, new adventures. I'm excited, for the most part.
Ciao, y los besos!
Sasha
I think I would really like Spanish culture. Especially were I alone or with just one or two of my friends. It is one of my favorite things ever to meet new people, especially from other countries, and this is a great place to do that. Thus far, I've had extended conversations with people from Guatemala, Puerto Rico, Ireland, Britain, Spain, Germany... and I've been here three days.
But because I'm here with a school trip, I feel a little like a small child. Our coordinators have every detail planned. They take us to lunch, but don't tell us what we're eating (and consequently, we don't order, it's just put in front of us), where we're going... only when we need to be places. And we follow blindly. I'm not used to that. I cherish my independence. So this is something entirely new.
Also, the people on the trip... God, they're so contrary to the people I was lucky enough to spend my summer with. I hate to stereotype, but they're for the most part sorority girls... and I, with my tattoos and piercings and not-size-2 waist, simply don't fit in. God forbid I tell them I'm queer. I mentioned some of my sexual exploits to one when we were playing "never have I ever," and she got all...judge-y. I really have no tolerance for that shit. Especially when my summer was spent with people who validate and appreciate me. The last thing I need is some psuedo-prude princess telling me I'm fucked up because I've had a few threesomes. Dude, in my opinion, SHE could use a good fuck. Might pull that stick out of her ass. Who knows.
ANYWAYS. Tonight, I went with the other non-sorority girls to the pier, basically. It's a total tourist trap, which is not my style, but my roommate was feeling homesick and wanted to drink away her sorrows, and I could empathize, so I went. We had a good time, overall. We really did. Now here's the backstory as to why it's 5:10 am and I'm sitting at a computer in my hotel, hair still damp.
I have a little bit of a crush (in the most High-School sense of the word) on a boy in our program. We'll call him Mateo. He's very much my type, with the gorgeous blue eyes and the little bit shaggy blonde hair, and with the lacrosse he plays, he reminds me a little of everyone's favorite missed opportunity. Periodically, I feel like we connect, but I get the impression it's something that, if there, he can't show to his friends, because, well, I'm NOT the sorority girl. I have curves. And piercings. And tattoos. And would probably be the best he's ever had. But in all likelihood, he'll never know.
Anyways, I went out with the girls tonight, dancing and drinking. We met up with the boys a few hours into the evening (which, here, doesn't start til midnight at the earliest) and kept dancing. Mateo showed up, and I took every opportunity I had to talk to him. We get along well, and we both know it. But there was no dancing, no grinding, no making out. (God, I want someone to make out with. Another post to come about how fabulous kissing is.) I was getting ready to leave because I was bumming, and as I went to tell them I was leaving, he said I should come to the beach and smoke with them. Now, I don't smoke, and particularly not pot (only under very specific circumstances, none of which this satisfied), but I thought I might get somewhere if I joined. So I went. We wandered to the beach, Mateo bought some hash from some French men. And then my roommate and out mutual friend started talking about going into the ocean.
Before I knew it, I'd dropped trou and top, and went sprinting into the mediterranian, holding hands with my roommate. The water was surprisingly warm for the hour, the sand below incredibly smooth, until I hit the rocks. Maybe next HNT will be my scraped-up knee. The water was salty, but the waves were gentle and caressed my skin. My roommate and our mutual friend hit it off earlier that evening, and he was hitting on her the whole time. We saw Mateo standing at the shore, and I called for him to join us. Without hesitation, he stripped down and joined us. Sprinted, with abandon into the mediterranian, and dove into the water in front of me. Almost tackled me in the process. I would have let him, too.
My roommate and mutual friend did a better job at holding on to their undergarments than Mateo and I did. They got out of the water, leaving Mateo and I stark naked, and promising they'd bring our clothes to us at the shore. They didn't come back for quite some time. Mateo kept saying my name, over and over. Asking me what we should do. He asked if I'd walk up the beach with him. In naked solidarity. I said I would. And so we did.
So I can now add "swam naked in the mediterranian" "with a cute boy" to my list of fabulous moments of my life. I was so happy. And at peace. I could have existed forever en that moment. Dios mio.
It's 5:30am. Time for bed. Alone, sadly. Tomorrow, we travel to Tarragona. New city, new adventures. I'm excited, for the most part.
Ciao, y los besos!
Sasha
Thursday, August 14, 2008
HHNT
So this is being posted remotely... that's how I managed. It isn't much, but as promised, here's one of my new cuffs. With the leather and the metal and the red trim. Lessthanthree.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
The big adventure.
Well, folks, it's that time. I'm off to Europe for the rest of the year. It's been a fantastic summer. Really, one of the best I can remember. And I have a lot of people to thank for that. I kind of wish I could disclose names here, but I'm pretty confident they know who they are. Basically, if we've hung out this summer, you were part of that experience and I'm utterly grateful for it.
Before I go, a couple other things I've learned this summer, and a little bit of a rant , because the person it's about will get a kick out of it. :)
Things I've learned this summer:
- Age doesn't matter. I used to subscribe to the belief that age was a make-or-break factor in a relationship, and had pretty hard limits on what age was OK to associate with, date, etc. I started abandoning that when I became really close with a couple in college, not realizing there was almost 20 years between them. (I knew there was an age difference, but not that much.) I loved hanging out with both of them, they were and still are loyal friends and I never once felt out of place or uncomfortable with them, despite our (or their) age difference. And this summer, my group of friends has expanded, age-wise, to include several people who are a good deal older than me. And I love that experience. I love the different perspective they can give me and I can give them, and, again, I've been lucky to find people who are intelligent, supportive, and a blast to be around. So I'm rescinding my previous limits on age-appropriateness. While I'd still say there are some limits, I'm aware now that age really has very little to do with whether or not you connect with someone.
- Meeting new people isn't as scary as I thought it was. As I've mentioned before, I've lost several friends (in the sense that we're no longer in each other's lives) this summer, but I've gained several new ones. I've been notoriously afraid of meeting new people, and this summer, between working at the paper, Thunder, living in a new neighborhood and being old enough to go out to bars and clubs, I think I've done one hell of a job meeting new people. I still keep in touch with several of them. And that gives me hope for meeting new people on this adventure I'm about to embark on.
- I really like BDSM. It's not the only thing I like, but I had various opportunities to explore it a little more fully this summer, and overall, I really enjoyed it. Playing, watching, learning. All good things. And I have a better idea about some of my limits.. and how malleable some of them are. :)
There are more things, but as I'm looking around my room right now, I'm realizing that I leave in 12 hours and there is a lot of crap to clean up... so we'll jump to the story.
There are times when I really love friends with benefits relationships. It takes a certain kind of friendship and certain kind of people to be able to make it work, but when it does work, it works really well. After a crazy night out with the non-boyfriend, Roomie, P, G, and Gayboyfriend, I spent Friday recouperating. And being a little sad, as the reality of the summer ending was beginning to hit me. After blowing off packing all day, I was still feeling pretty shitty and, to borrow a term, had a bad case of skin hunger. I ended up texting a long-time friend who I hadn't had a chance to say goodbye to yet. After the opening ceremonies, he came over. I sometimes forget how much fun we have together. We ended up hanging out in my bedroom, talking about everything under the sun. My house is sans AC, and I was really hot, so I ended up stripping down to a bra and short shorts. And then dropped a not-so-subtle hint that cuddling would be a really awesome idea. (Yeah, I was super-smooth. Along the lines of "I need to make more friends who like to cuddle." *cue boy lying down next to me with his arm around my waist. Excellent*)
We watched entirely too many episodes of Weeds, chatting in between, and flirting like we tend to do. I showed him my new cuffs from Thunder, he wore them for a while, which made it really difficult for him to sneak up on me and tickle me, since he jingled. There was much cuddling. And he's a really good cuddler. Which I know sounds strange, but there are people who just... aren't very good at it. Also, we fit nicely together, since he's got a solid five or six inches on me, so it contributes to the whole i'm-little-and-feminine feeling that I so enjoy when cuddling. I think there were small periods of time where both of us fell asleep (he didn't get to my house until midnight), and eventually, when I tried to get up to put the next episode on, he kept his arms locked around me.
Now, generally, I'm pretty good at cuddling with platonic friends. Granted, this friend isn't entirely platonic. He's that kind of excellent friend with benefits whose company I really enjoy, whether we're hooking up or not. And we'd hooked up earlier in the summer, but hadn't slept together since I started seeing non-boyfriend, for a variety of reasons. But with the cuddling, and the fabulous conversation (intelligent and silly and serious and lighthearted all at once) I kind of couldn't help wanting it to go farther. And he has an uncanny ability to figure out exactly what I want. It's a little eerie, although my guess is it has something to do with the fact that we've known each other for over a decade. Anyways, he kept asking me what was on my mind, and in a totally high-school move, I played the "nuuuuuuthing" card. And then he started kissing me. Which was exactly what I wanted.
And things progressed (I was mostly naked already) in the way they tend to with he and I, and shortly there were no clothes left on our bodies. Talk about satisfying skin hunger. And here's the thing I remember most vividly from the encounter (which is going to make me sound rather girly): the way he held my hand. He'd be on top of me, and go to hold my hands above my head (again, he knows the kind of thing I like), but instead of just holding my wrists down, he'd intertwine his fingers in mine, which allowed me to squeeze back on his hand. And made me feel really connected to him. I know that's a little thing, the way his hands were, but it was particularly interesting, because it was something I'd actually been thinking about earlier that day. About how I wanted to get laid, but have it be more sensual than the frenzied need or getting dommed. And this friend knows where my buttons are, and exactly how to push them. And he absolutely did. Which was exactly what I wanted.
I also tend to remember specific things he says when we're having sex. I remember the first time we hooked up (well, ok, the "first" part is debateable) after a fabulous date involving dinner and a movie and a trip to Kmart to try to find Nerf guns (unsuccessfully) and late-night stargazing in the snow and an effort to get pie until we realized the Village Inn closed in 10 minutes, he said something to me (about my rack, heh)... and something about the way it was worded or the way he said it, I don't know... was really hot. And I can still remember exactly how it sounded and what he said. The same kind of thing happened this time... I was on top, and sat up straight, still rocking my hips. He looked up at me and just said "god, that's a gorgeous sight." I'm pretty sure I blushed. I always do when compliments actually take. It made me feel ridiculously attractive, and sexy, and wanted. It was fantastic.
Really, the whole night was a blast. I kind of consider that my first Last Night in the City. (I went out with friends the next night, and had a great time, although the tone was a little bittersweet.) But had I left the next day, I still would have been totally satisfied with how I'd spent my last few hours here by hanging out with him. He somehow figured out exactly what I needed, and that's what I got. I wish that was the case with more of my life. Heh. Anyways, friend, I'll miss you. See you when I get back.
And that's all, folks. I'll be out for at least two weeks as I travel Spain. I'm sure I'll have periodic internet access a la internet cafes and hotel lobbies, but I don't know if it will be enough time to post. But I'll be sure to keep everyone updated on the inevitable escapades. Speaking of, last night, a girlfriend asked me if I wanted to bet how long it'll take before I get laid in Spain. Any guesses, readers? :)
Adios!
Before I go, a couple other things I've learned this summer, and a little bit of a rant , because the person it's about will get a kick out of it. :)
Things I've learned this summer:
- Age doesn't matter. I used to subscribe to the belief that age was a make-or-break factor in a relationship, and had pretty hard limits on what age was OK to associate with, date, etc. I started abandoning that when I became really close with a couple in college, not realizing there was almost 20 years between them. (I knew there was an age difference, but not that much.) I loved hanging out with both of them, they were and still are loyal friends and I never once felt out of place or uncomfortable with them, despite our (or their) age difference. And this summer, my group of friends has expanded, age-wise, to include several people who are a good deal older than me. And I love that experience. I love the different perspective they can give me and I can give them, and, again, I've been lucky to find people who are intelligent, supportive, and a blast to be around. So I'm rescinding my previous limits on age-appropriateness. While I'd still say there are some limits, I'm aware now that age really has very little to do with whether or not you connect with someone.
- Meeting new people isn't as scary as I thought it was. As I've mentioned before, I've lost several friends (in the sense that we're no longer in each other's lives) this summer, but I've gained several new ones. I've been notoriously afraid of meeting new people, and this summer, between working at the paper, Thunder, living in a new neighborhood and being old enough to go out to bars and clubs, I think I've done one hell of a job meeting new people. I still keep in touch with several of them. And that gives me hope for meeting new people on this adventure I'm about to embark on.
- I really like BDSM. It's not the only thing I like, but I had various opportunities to explore it a little more fully this summer, and overall, I really enjoyed it. Playing, watching, learning. All good things. And I have a better idea about some of my limits.. and how malleable some of them are. :)
There are more things, but as I'm looking around my room right now, I'm realizing that I leave in 12 hours and there is a lot of crap to clean up... so we'll jump to the story.
There are times when I really love friends with benefits relationships. It takes a certain kind of friendship and certain kind of people to be able to make it work, but when it does work, it works really well. After a crazy night out with the non-boyfriend, Roomie, P, G, and Gayboyfriend, I spent Friday recouperating. And being a little sad, as the reality of the summer ending was beginning to hit me. After blowing off packing all day, I was still feeling pretty shitty and, to borrow a term, had a bad case of skin hunger. I ended up texting a long-time friend who I hadn't had a chance to say goodbye to yet. After the opening ceremonies, he came over. I sometimes forget how much fun we have together. We ended up hanging out in my bedroom, talking about everything under the sun. My house is sans AC, and I was really hot, so I ended up stripping down to a bra and short shorts. And then dropped a not-so-subtle hint that cuddling would be a really awesome idea. (Yeah, I was super-smooth. Along the lines of "I need to make more friends who like to cuddle." *cue boy lying down next to me with his arm around my waist. Excellent*)
We watched entirely too many episodes of Weeds, chatting in between, and flirting like we tend to do. I showed him my new cuffs from Thunder, he wore them for a while, which made it really difficult for him to sneak up on me and tickle me, since he jingled. There was much cuddling. And he's a really good cuddler. Which I know sounds strange, but there are people who just... aren't very good at it. Also, we fit nicely together, since he's got a solid five or six inches on me, so it contributes to the whole i'm-little-and-feminine feeling that I so enjoy when cuddling. I think there were small periods of time where both of us fell asleep (he didn't get to my house until midnight), and eventually, when I tried to get up to put the next episode on, he kept his arms locked around me.
Now, generally, I'm pretty good at cuddling with platonic friends. Granted, this friend isn't entirely platonic. He's that kind of excellent friend with benefits whose company I really enjoy, whether we're hooking up or not. And we'd hooked up earlier in the summer, but hadn't slept together since I started seeing non-boyfriend, for a variety of reasons. But with the cuddling, and the fabulous conversation (intelligent and silly and serious and lighthearted all at once) I kind of couldn't help wanting it to go farther. And he has an uncanny ability to figure out exactly what I want. It's a little eerie, although my guess is it has something to do with the fact that we've known each other for over a decade. Anyways, he kept asking me what was on my mind, and in a totally high-school move, I played the "nuuuuuuthing" card. And then he started kissing me. Which was exactly what I wanted.
And things progressed (I was mostly naked already) in the way they tend to with he and I, and shortly there were no clothes left on our bodies. Talk about satisfying skin hunger. And here's the thing I remember most vividly from the encounter (which is going to make me sound rather girly): the way he held my hand. He'd be on top of me, and go to hold my hands above my head (again, he knows the kind of thing I like), but instead of just holding my wrists down, he'd intertwine his fingers in mine, which allowed me to squeeze back on his hand. And made me feel really connected to him. I know that's a little thing, the way his hands were, but it was particularly interesting, because it was something I'd actually been thinking about earlier that day. About how I wanted to get laid, but have it be more sensual than the frenzied need or getting dommed. And this friend knows where my buttons are, and exactly how to push them. And he absolutely did. Which was exactly what I wanted.
I also tend to remember specific things he says when we're having sex. I remember the first time we hooked up (well, ok, the "first" part is debateable) after a fabulous date involving dinner and a movie and a trip to Kmart to try to find Nerf guns (unsuccessfully) and late-night stargazing in the snow and an effort to get pie until we realized the Village Inn closed in 10 minutes, he said something to me (about my rack, heh)... and something about the way it was worded or the way he said it, I don't know... was really hot. And I can still remember exactly how it sounded and what he said. The same kind of thing happened this time... I was on top, and sat up straight, still rocking my hips. He looked up at me and just said "god, that's a gorgeous sight." I'm pretty sure I blushed. I always do when compliments actually take. It made me feel ridiculously attractive, and sexy, and wanted. It was fantastic.
Really, the whole night was a blast. I kind of consider that my first Last Night in the City. (I went out with friends the next night, and had a great time, although the tone was a little bittersweet.) But had I left the next day, I still would have been totally satisfied with how I'd spent my last few hours here by hanging out with him. He somehow figured out exactly what I needed, and that's what I got. I wish that was the case with more of my life. Heh. Anyways, friend, I'll miss you. See you when I get back.
And that's all, folks. I'll be out for at least two weeks as I travel Spain. I'm sure I'll have periodic internet access a la internet cafes and hotel lobbies, but I don't know if it will be enough time to post. But I'll be sure to keep everyone updated on the inevitable escapades. Speaking of, last night, a girlfriend asked me if I wanted to bet how long it'll take before I get laid in Spain. Any guesses, readers? :)
Adios!
Sugasm.143
Would be right here, but my computer isn't recognizing the sugasm right now. And I'm leaving in a few hours for Europe. And for some reason I didn't get e-mailed the draft, although my post is included. Strange. Anyways, that's why there's no Sugasm post here. Essin Em successfully posted it, though, so check out her blog or, if it works for you, the Sugasm site.
(Sorry about the half-post, Vixen!)
(Sorry about the half-post, Vixen!)
Friday, August 8, 2008
Belated HNT
... which makes it.. Half-nekkid Friday? HHNF, everyone!
This was my outfit the first night of Thunder. Yeah, I rock the schoolgirl look.
This was my outfit the first night of Thunder. Yeah, I rock the schoolgirl look.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
TILTS: I'm worth more
I figure I'll start out with the biggest one. Mostly because that's what's on my mind right now. As far as relationships go, I'm worth more than I've historically settled for. I've come to this conclusion with the help of a number of people.
One is the guy I've been seeing (sort of) all summer. Who asked that I not write about him, but this is relevant, and nothing bad. I've had a great time hanging out with him in a variety of capacities. When I'm with him, I feel confident and smart and relaxed and even sexy. Those are almost all new sensations for me. He's smart and charming and talented and fucking adorable. But he can be a little flakey - which I can deal with. We've been very clear about the terms of our friendship/relationship (which I use here as a synonym for friendship), and I've been happy to accept them. I like to think I make him happy when I'm with him, too. So he's helped me realize I deserve to feel like that. I deserve to feel wanted and intelligent and sexy and worthwhile. I deserve to be with someone who makes me feel like that all the time and who, at the same time, understands that I need my space sometimes. I don't want a life partner right now. I still don't know how I'd do with an exclusive relationship (although I've done well with this non-exclusive one, oddly enough), but I deserve to be with someone who I don't have to compromise for. And I deserve to be more than their friend. I deserve to be taken out, to go dancing, to dinner, or invited over to cuddle and watch movies. That's the part that's missing right now. But I thank him for helping me realize that.
One is my friends this summer. Many of them aren't around anymore. I've lost more than a few long-time friends this summer, largely through my own doing. But the ones that stuck around have been beyond amazing. Supportive, and accepting, and fun and entertaining and encouraging and intelligent and genuine. They've helped me realize that I'm worth more, but also, that I don't have to put up with shit from people who are friends only in name. I deserve to be around awesome people who realize that I'm actually a pretty awesome person, too. Anyone who doesn't see that, well, they aren't worth my time.
My bosses and editors at the paper. They helped me realize that I deserve a job where I can do what I'm passionate about in a form I'm good at. They've encouraged me to try for bigger stories, bigger things, and better articles. I needed that encouragement. So they've shown me that I'm worth more professionally.
My readers - you all have been more encouraging than you know. I love knowing that people are reading and enjoying my writing, and your advice, sense of humor and genuine intellect has only been a positive influence. You've shown me that I'm worth more in my writing and that I'm not just writing for the faceless blogosphere.
Overall, this summer, I've learned that I don't have to settle. I can be in a healthy relationship. I can maintain friendships and even build new ones. I can have a fantastic job where I'm happy. I don't have to sell myself short and I'm worth a hell of a lot more than what I've been settling for in the past. I don't plan to settle again. Thank you to everyone who helped me realize that.
One is the guy I've been seeing (sort of) all summer. Who asked that I not write about him, but this is relevant, and nothing bad. I've had a great time hanging out with him in a variety of capacities. When I'm with him, I feel confident and smart and relaxed and even sexy. Those are almost all new sensations for me. He's smart and charming and talented and fucking adorable. But he can be a little flakey - which I can deal with. We've been very clear about the terms of our friendship/relationship (which I use here as a synonym for friendship), and I've been happy to accept them. I like to think I make him happy when I'm with him, too. So he's helped me realize I deserve to feel like that. I deserve to feel wanted and intelligent and sexy and worthwhile. I deserve to be with someone who makes me feel like that all the time and who, at the same time, understands that I need my space sometimes. I don't want a life partner right now. I still don't know how I'd do with an exclusive relationship (although I've done well with this non-exclusive one, oddly enough), but I deserve to be with someone who I don't have to compromise for. And I deserve to be more than their friend. I deserve to be taken out, to go dancing, to dinner, or invited over to cuddle and watch movies. That's the part that's missing right now. But I thank him for helping me realize that.
One is my friends this summer. Many of them aren't around anymore. I've lost more than a few long-time friends this summer, largely through my own doing. But the ones that stuck around have been beyond amazing. Supportive, and accepting, and fun and entertaining and encouraging and intelligent and genuine. They've helped me realize that I'm worth more, but also, that I don't have to put up with shit from people who are friends only in name. I deserve to be around awesome people who realize that I'm actually a pretty awesome person, too. Anyone who doesn't see that, well, they aren't worth my time.
My bosses and editors at the paper. They helped me realize that I deserve a job where I can do what I'm passionate about in a form I'm good at. They've encouraged me to try for bigger stories, bigger things, and better articles. I needed that encouragement. So they've shown me that I'm worth more professionally.
My readers - you all have been more encouraging than you know. I love knowing that people are reading and enjoying my writing, and your advice, sense of humor and genuine intellect has only been a positive influence. You've shown me that I'm worth more in my writing and that I'm not just writing for the faceless blogosphere.
Overall, this summer, I've learned that I don't have to settle. I can be in a healthy relationship. I can maintain friendships and even build new ones. I can have a fantastic job where I'm happy. I don't have to sell myself short and I'm worth a hell of a lot more than what I've been settling for in the past. I don't plan to settle again. Thank you to everyone who helped me realize that.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
What I've learned this summer...
Well, seeing as how the summer is coming to a close, and I’m making a pretty major move (read: I leave for the other side of the pond in 5 days!), it seems like an appropriate time to reflect. I’m wrapping up my summer-long internship, and I can safely say this has been one of the best summers I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing. The combination of friends, new experiences, and an ideal job (well, except the lack of pay) have all created a plethora of fantastic memories.
At the same time, I’ve learned a lot this summer. So, with any luck, my next few posts will be on trends I’ve noticed over the summer, or things I’ve learned about myself, my beliefs, and people in general. Since today is my last full day at the paper (where I have regular, reliable internet access), they might be a little sporadic, but I’ll do my best. Then I leave for Europe on Aug. 10, so I’ll be unavailable for something like two weeks while I’m traveling. I’m sure I’ll have periodic internet café access, so I’ll try to at least get up a HNT picture in there. Once I’m settled, I’ll be sure to update everyone on my escapades, and I promise to have some great stories. In the meantime, thanks to everyone for reading – especially the newer additions… it’s really a great feeling to be getting more well-read. I wish everyone the best.
See you on the other side!
Sasha
At the same time, I’ve learned a lot this summer. So, with any luck, my next few posts will be on trends I’ve noticed over the summer, or things I’ve learned about myself, my beliefs, and people in general. Since today is my last full day at the paper (where I have regular, reliable internet access), they might be a little sporadic, but I’ll do my best. Then I leave for Europe on Aug. 10, so I’ll be unavailable for something like two weeks while I’m traveling. I’m sure I’ll have periodic internet café access, so I’ll try to at least get up a HNT picture in there. Once I’m settled, I’ll be sure to update everyone on my escapades, and I promise to have some great stories. In the meantime, thanks to everyone for reading – especially the newer additions… it’s really a great feeling to be getting more well-read. I wish everyone the best.
See you on the other side!
Sasha
Friday, August 1, 2008
*falls over laughing*
So, a while back, as a joke, I joined an online dating site called OKCupid. It's free and the gimmick is that by answering user-generated questions, you get matched with other users. So, supposedly, your fate is in your own hands. Or something like that.
Side note: I realize everyone says they joined online dating services as a joke, but I was working on an article for my magazine at the time, which was sparked by the fact that eHarmony will reject you if you're gay. Or not religious enough. Yeah. So I was looking into other sites that offered more options. For the record, on Chemistry.com, you can be gay, but you can't be bisexual. On OKCupid, you can be gay, straight, or bi, and you can be already in a relationship and still looking for partners, in which case it will list your orientation and "available" instead of "single."
Anyways, I periodically check it, and while I was coming down off the crazy amount of cold meds I've been on for the past three days, I was updating my profile, which I guess means I can receive instant messages. (Although they call them "intimate messages." Aw. How cute.) Apparently I missed one, so it was sent to me as a message in my inbox. Here is the text of the message in its entirety:
you look kinda exotic to me. i do want to see you naked. write back if you're interested.
And that was it. No name, no introduction. My profile says nothing about anyone seeing me naked, or even about BEING naked. I talk about my orientation and the kind of work I do, but that's it. So I'm not sure where the "i DO want to see you naked" as if I'd asked a question comes from.
Also, although it doesn't particularly make a difference, the sender is from Buenos Aires, Argentina. And actually, I probably would have been less put off my the message had he written it in Spanish.
Needless to say, I'm not writing back. I just think it's hilarious how little effort people seem to think it takes. And here's the catch: I'm easy. I know it, I own it. But come on, dude. You have to work a teeny bit harder than that. (Or, *gasp* could it be that I'm raising my standards? eeep. Who would have guessed.)
In other funny OKCupid news, when you look at a person's profile, it lists a percentage that, by the site's mysterious algorithms, you would be that person's "match," "friend," or "enemy." I logged back on to the site because through a series of texts with T (yes, from Thunder) today, he mentioned I should look him up there. And I did. And I have the highest compatibility rating I've seen with him. Which I think is hilarious. Also, I enjoy that he texts almost as much as I do. (And all of this is NOT creepy cyber-stalking cause he started it by searching out some of my published writing that I didn't know was still posted and commenting about it. And he gave me his OKCupid name.) I really like making new friends. I wish I were a little better at it. But I'm getting there.
And now I should sleep. Night, all.
Side note: I realize everyone says they joined online dating services as a joke, but I was working on an article for my magazine at the time, which was sparked by the fact that eHarmony will reject you if you're gay. Or not religious enough. Yeah. So I was looking into other sites that offered more options. For the record, on Chemistry.com, you can be gay, but you can't be bisexual. On OKCupid, you can be gay, straight, or bi, and you can be already in a relationship and still looking for partners, in which case it will list your orientation and "available" instead of "single."
Anyways, I periodically check it, and while I was coming down off the crazy amount of cold meds I've been on for the past three days, I was updating my profile, which I guess means I can receive instant messages. (Although they call them "intimate messages." Aw. How cute.) Apparently I missed one, so it was sent to me as a message in my inbox. Here is the text of the message in its entirety:
you look kinda exotic to me. i do want to see you naked. write back if you're interested.
And that was it. No name, no introduction. My profile says nothing about anyone seeing me naked, or even about BEING naked. I talk about my orientation and the kind of work I do, but that's it. So I'm not sure where the "i DO want to see you naked" as if I'd asked a question comes from.
Also, although it doesn't particularly make a difference, the sender is from Buenos Aires, Argentina. And actually, I probably would have been less put off my the message had he written it in Spanish.
Needless to say, I'm not writing back. I just think it's hilarious how little effort people seem to think it takes. And here's the catch: I'm easy. I know it, I own it. But come on, dude. You have to work a teeny bit harder than that. (Or, *gasp* could it be that I'm raising my standards? eeep. Who would have guessed.)
In other funny OKCupid news, when you look at a person's profile, it lists a percentage that, by the site's mysterious algorithms, you would be that person's "match," "friend," or "enemy." I logged back on to the site because through a series of texts with T (yes, from Thunder) today, he mentioned I should look him up there. And I did. And I have the highest compatibility rating I've seen with him. Which I think is hilarious. Also, I enjoy that he texts almost as much as I do. (And all of this is NOT creepy cyber-stalking cause he started it by searching out some of my published writing that I didn't know was still posted and commenting about it. And he gave me his OKCupid name.) I really like making new friends. I wish I were a little better at it. But I'm getting there.
And now I should sleep. Night, all.
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