HNT: My own space

No apologies this time. I'm getting better - I am! Just a tiny little explanation.

As I've mentioned (I think?), I just moved into my own place downtown. It's the first time I've lived completely financially independent for an extended period of time, and I love it! I love the feeling that comes with having a space that's really, truly yours. I like to take advantage of that fact whenever possible... Like walking around my apartment wearing very little. (OK, not when my roommate and her boyfriend are home, although there have been some fun times with immediate post-coital roommate chit-chat.)

But on mornings like today, when I've got the house to myself, it's kind of fun to prance around the house not wearing much. Making breakfast seems way more exotic if you're doing it without clothes on. And really, who likes clothes anyway?

Not me, apparently.


I do, however, love those underwear. They're one of my favorite pairs, for no particular reason other than they're comfortable, and I think they're cut nicely. Any input?

HHNT!

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

nudity.ness.

So, last night was the fateful evening when Essin' Em and I finally got to hang out. We had a really great time. Of course, most of what we talked about was sex. (Shocking, I know.) After perhaps the most thorough sex-store outing I've yet had the pleasure of experiencing, we ended up at our mutual friend's house. (Yes, the boy I'm... whatever...ing.) Who, also, as we learned last night, reads Em's blog regularly, so, if and when he figures out that this is me - welcome! *waves*

Anyways, so we ended up at his house, since he was a mutual friend, and, more aptly, because he had a hot tub and I'm persuasive enough to convince him to let us come over and usurp it. After a few more phone calls (clearly, we weren't coming fast enough... *snicker*), we made our way over to his house, where we were also introduced to a friend of his who's staying with him. The friend seemed nice enough, but the boy (who needs a nickname... any suggestions? Can't use his initial cause it's too common in my life) and Em wasted no time in catching up, and I in inserting myself in their relationship dynamic. Which maybe, really, should have been more difficult.

But we had come for the hot tub, so that's where we headed after a drink (or, in my case, a mouthful and a half of Absynthe). Em and I hadn't brought swimsuits - yes, even though it had been our idea to go hot tubbing - and so we stripped to underwear and bras, and I cursed myself for not wearing cuter underwear. Before we'd sunk into the hot tub, Em pointed out that she was wearing a relatively nice bra that matched an outfit, and she didn't want to get it all chlorine-y. And I wasn't about to let my girl go solo, so I joined her in the toplessness. We didn't hear any complaints. We had several discussions about whose breasts were bigger - hers are by a little bit, but mine are...what did we decide, Em? Perkier? - and how amusing it was that tits float. Which, incidentally, makes them look kind of cool.

Within this new group dynamic we were forging, I emerged as (ready for the shocker, here?) the submissive. Which basically means I got ogled and fondled and complimented a lot and hit a few times. All consensually, of course - legit, with express verbal permission. It was a strange sensation, though, to be the object of attraction for these two people, both of whom I like and respect, and both of whom I think of as more confident than me sexually, and to have them sit across the hot tub from me and tell me I have near-perfect breasts. I think I got, for a moment, what it must feel like to be just one of those stunningly gorgeous people, who everyone in the world thinks is beautiful. I'm not throwing a pity party here in the least, but it was most definitely a new sensation for me to feel quite so sexy and wanted and valuable all at the same time. Yes, every once in a while I get the "hey, you're hot" comments from friends or random people, but this was like I was entirely under their gaze and couldn't move if I wanted to. We eventually moved downstairs to the sauna - yes, we were Zaunaing - where Em and boy sat on the upper bench while I stretched out (still naked, as all of us were) on the lower bench with my feet up next to boy. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath of the hot air, and as I opened my eyes, Em and boy were both staring at me, something almost like hunger in their eyes. Em looked me up and down and once more and said something to the effect of:
"I hope you don't mind, I'm totally objectifying all of you right now. Damn."
And boy smiled and rubbed his hand over my leg and just said "Yeah."

Thank god the sauna was warm and had flushed my skin already, although I'm sure color still rose to my cheeks regardless. There is something about these two, specifically, that makes me feel really comfortable with my body and myself and my life when I'm around them. And yes, of course the copious amounts of compliments obviously help, but even earlier, I was the first one to get completely naked, which is SO not my style.

Because I can be as sex-positive and kinky and queer as I want but the truth remains that I have some pretty substantial body issues. There are, without question, more parts of my body that I don't like than parts I do. Just for reference, the parts I like: my nose, my eyes when they're green, my tits, my calves, and my tattoos. Everything else, I would change if I could. And I know that's a very negative image to have, but I'm working on being more realistic and accepting of my body... it just takes some time. I've struggled with eating disorders and body image for a long time now. But nights like last night certainly help. Immensely. More than I can put into words.

So thank you to Em, and thank you to boy, for helping me feel a little better about myself, and like maybe I was worth some adoration. I don't know what I'd do without you guys.