Archive for December, 2010

12 months.

Originally I had planned today to be the swan song for Learning to Drive Stick. I assumed, wrongly, that I would have some amazing revelations about human behavior. About human sexuality. Instead, a year in, all I have are more questions than when I began. My base questions were simple, or in retrospect, simple. Can I, a lesbian of 12 years, a woman who didn’t even like penetrative sex with her female lovers and hadn’t had a remote inkling of a novel non fleeting interest in a man in 12 years, sustain enough of an interest in any one or more men to date them and have a sexually romantic relationship with them. Sure, I flirted with a few boys during that time, kissed a couple, but that was alcohol tinged fun, not cock fueled desire. So, I set out last December on a quest, one year to meet as many men as possible, stay open to the process and see what the universe had to offer. Boy, did the universe have plans.

In the first months it was very experimental. I did have a look at my dates as pawns in a game, in a way. Or perhaps it was all like a science project, controlled experiments. As much as I was open to the process, I was awkward, at best. I was having issues crossing the line and connecting beyond the sexual flirtation. No one was getting in. I was having a blast though, so, I assumed, again wrongly, that this would be the nature of the beast. I would meet and have laughs, maybe some hot make out sessions with beautiful men who looked too good to be true (i.e. Gavin Depp), and some douche bags who thought inviting their friends on a first date and hitting on the girl in the tight wife beater, smoking a cigarette outside, was a BRILLIANT and tactful move. I assumed I would have some good stories, nothing more, nothing less.

Then Brooklyn showed up. He came at me with a relentless desire. He was just leaving a marriage to the only woman he had ever been intimate to, the 3rd woman he had kissed, and in many ways, what should have been a short passionless affair, turned into a 12 year relationship. She was the first girl to pay attention to him. The first to fall in love with him. So, he stayed. Until he decided the fall previous to our meeting, that he was done. Fini. He saw me on Match, signed up specifically to meet me, only met me and fell into a fantasy. It turned out that we had been neighbors in Brooklyn, yet never known each other, and in many ways, our connection was one of soul mates, but it was forced, by him. It was filled with a teenage fervor, making out on the beach in winter, in a car for hours with the heat turned on, on the couch of a home I was house sitting and in between the stacks of bookstores. It was hot and fast. In the end I fell in love with the idea of love. Love wasn’t what I was expecting in the journey, so to see that it could be a real possibility in the journey was thrilling. We broke off our short affair because he was overwhelmed, a night of almost sex had him rethinking his entire life. He needed therapy to leave the relationship, not me.

I did also assume, again wrongly, that sex would be fairly easy to come by, seeing that I am an extremely attractive woman with an average slender build, some fashion sense and style, and a pretty good sense of humor. Sure, except I wasn’t getting laid. Start and stops, start and stops. Hot make outs in a mall after hours following an alcohol loaded evening of jazz resulted in our getting thrown out of said mall, but when we were alone later, excuses for why the young law student wasn’t ready. Dates that couldn’t make it close to first base and my desire to have someone “be a man” about it and show me that they wanted me, rather than my taking the first move as I have in all of my relationships in my past. It wasn’t happening. So, the dates continued, the weather warmed, and the experiments went from controlled to natural as I found 3 men in a few week period who redefined the game.

Type Geek started out his date late, nice, but not thrilling. Former lawyer talked my ear off on the phone in an argumentative debate that, at times, crossed into condescending and rude, but I went out with him anyway, only to realize that I was truly JUST going to use him for sex. He seemed to be my most promising route for a lay, since Type Geek hadn’t even kissed me at week 3 of dating. So, I slept with Former Lawyer on a Wednesday and had him begin a three-day stalking that covered him showing up at a grocery store he knew I was shopping at, show up outside my door, uninvited, assuming he would be invited in, at a time when I just wanted to sit in the tub and relax after a hard day. I gave him 2 hours at a local martini bar. He told me that I couldn’t possibly like electronic music because I liked serious musicians like Rush. I respected Rush, sure, but I LOVE trip hop, so fuck off. He told me he was being argumentative in order to make my arguments and opinions more precise. I told him I had to go, I had plans. Those plans were to get back in the tub, of course, but I would not see this man again. He had however, broken the mystical seal surrounding my pussy and suddenly the world opened up.

That evening I met Cooper Fiennes on-line, we chatted briefly,flirted, and agreed to meet for coffee after an appointment I had scheduled the next day. I also had a date with Type Geek later that evening. And so, the next morning, I arose for my meeting, met Cooper Fiennes in person, and tried to hold my shock when meeting him. He was handsome on-line, but he was HANDSOME and European, and sexy as HELL in person. We walked for hours, drank coffee and talked. I didn’t feel a huge spark, but I felt his interest. Suddenly I saw the time and realized that I had 2 hours to get home, shower, wax (just in case, although since our first kiss was initiated by me, I was only so hopeful of anything past 1st base on this date as well), and get back to the same location I was sitting, for a date with Type Geek. I made it 15 minutes late. He was, of course, 20 minutes late. By 1 am I was beginning to consider it fruitless. He wasn’t making a move, and so I decided one last attempt at making myself available would need to be tried. I followed him into his bedroom as he dug through his closet for some shoes, the ugliest shoes in creation apparently, and I purposefully laid myself out on his bed and began to pet his cat. And so, this is how Type Geek made his move, finally. This was one hell of a move, as well… it resulted in great sex, my getting off, and really good coffee in the morning. After going home and showering, I met Cooper Fiennes in the city for a late afternoon coffee.

That became my summer, juggling between these two insanely different men. Sex with Cooper Fiennes was fierce and passionate, often beginning in alcoves of buildings of on park benches. He could turn me on in 3 seconds by stroking the back of my neck and breathing on it until I was ready for another 4 hour escapade. With Type Geek, it was sweet and typical, but he didn’t let me in, I was intimate with him, but often felt detached. I was beginning to think that he might be one-dimensional. a few months in I realized that I had fallen in love with the idea of sex and my body in ways I hadn’t ever been able to in my life. I had two men that found me sexy, one that showed me how insatiably, and it was thrilling. I misdirected this emotion for a couple of weeks as it being about Cooper Fiennes in general, only to see that it wasn’t, after we stopped seeing each other because he had fallen in love with his best friend.

I was considering ending my affair with Type Geek at this time as well, I wasn’t feeling anything spectacular, and while he was a nice guy, I didn’t see much else. As I trolled the internet sites for more potential dates I realized that perhaps Type Geek was that guy that in comparison doesn’t show well, but underneath it all, if the focus is just on him, maybe he is a diamond in the rough. So, I actively decided that I would only see him for a while. That awhile is now 8 months. A month ago I realized that after falling in love with the idea of love, after falling in love with the reality of myself as a very sexual being, I had also, fallen in love. He is flawed, emotionally and physically. He is imperfect in many ways. I am a overcommunicator and he is a undercommunicator, and at times I feel like a chicken with my head cut off, cause I just don’t get him, but, I love him. He is multi layered and as delicious as a Mille-feuille. He isn’t my boyfriend, it’s no grand affair with fireworks and sex on street corners and in rental cars, but it’s true and honest and real. Real isn’t always sexy, it requires a lot of work.

So, a year in. My original question was answered early on, yes, I could successfully date and maintain a sexual relationship with a man. Then I wondered if I could fall in love, and I did. Then I began asking questions about the all of human nature, realizing that while we are such different creatures, especially in how we go about processing and handling our rich and varied emotional lives, we, men and women, essentially want similar things. The only two things I truly know for sure though, in all of this, is that women are indeed bat shit crazy, even me. Men are emotionally retarded, and if they aren’t, there is some red flag somewhere that you should look for. We will never be able to have total communication with anyone we are sexually and romantically involved with, because we see things through eyes clouded with our own needs, wants, past traumas, etc. Nothing will ever be perfect, but imperfection, in all its beauty, isn’t far from grasp, if you open your eyes to it.

I no longer consider myself a lesbian, but I don’t consider myself bi or straight. To some, straight makes more sense. To me, calling myself straight discounts and disrespects my knowledge, my history, my activism in the gay community. I know too much to be straight. I consider myself, because labels seem to be necessary in our day and age of necessary compartmentalization, queer. I’m left of center, as Suzanne Vega sang.

What next? I’m not sure. I have decided not to end the blog just yet, but I am taking a break until the new year. In January I will be back, and perhaps with a different direction to take it in. I am thankful for all of the support I have received over the last year from my readers and my editors at The New Gay, as well as the gifts of the universe and even all of the crazy boys I encountered along the way. Some have become lifelong friends, others I avoid on the street, and some, one, I bring with me into the new year, filled with possibility, filled with potential and filled with utter frustration that once again, a date may get canceled and I may not get laid, because he may end up stuck in another state today due to a snow storm that hit after he finished his business meeting. Sigh.

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My biological clock may have turned me into a cock craving mad woman in hopes that I spawn before it is too late, but thanks to modern pharmaceuticals… she won’t win. I recognize your right to do so, but keep these two videos in mind next time you go and get yourself knocked up.

First the chemical highs you get in order to mask the reality of your body being host to a parasite that continues to cling long after it has left the womb and ravaged your body.

Then, thanks to our robot friend who can keep doing it, so I don’t have to… the body fluid and scream free birth 

Did I also mention that these videos freak me out?!

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He finally removed the photo from OkCupid. The one I had taken of him on our trip up to Maine. Finally. So, why now? He didn’t do it after I told him that I was in love with him. He didn’t do it after we decided that we would go forward with our seeing eachother, each of us clearer on where the other stands. He did it after a 5 day trip to the mountains of wyoming with a friend who just lost his wife to cancer. I don’t understand him, but at the end of the day, I love him and that my friends, that is the most important thing. I know he cares about me or he wouldn’t be here. I might even say that he could love me, if he allowed himself. Knowing that it is possible, that makes me smile. That gives me comfort. I do hope that when he goes to sleep at night, he does so knowing that he is loved and that it makes a slight difference.

With that, it is 3:12 am and I have another full day of packing before me tomorrow. He flies out of town fora business trip so I don’t get to see him until he gets back. My new apartment is closer to his apartment than my condo, I hope the proximity increases the likelihood of intimacy, cause I am horny as hell most of the month and this 3 times isn’t cuttin’ it. He best be buying me a rabbit for Christmas if he doesn’t plan on stepping up to my box more often.

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This made me laugh a thousand laughs….

Who are you?! Please contact me, that way I can say THANKS and give you credit!

OK, apparently this is an http://xkcd.com/ comic. I never knew of them, BUT everyone else did, as my comments lit up on this one. Thanks for the help people!

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In 7 days, I have spoken to him for 6 seconds. He had traveled away to the cold ass wintry mix of Jackson Hole, Wyoming for nearly 5 days and lost his phone at the airport on his way to frolic with the elks and the huskies. His return flight brought him in after the TSA office was long closed and the next two days had him working in the office out of town, therefore he hadn’t been able to get his phone until this evening. Then, while I finished a riveting conversation about Monsanto and the wide and insidious reach of it’s all-consuming fingers into our homes, our stomachs, and our government, with the other table at the Pho restaurant, and was paying my check, he rang. I quietly answered and asked him if I could call him right back. He said of course, yet didn’t answer when I did. Perhaps he fell asleep on the couch, but I called back only 12 minutes later.

Do I miss him, because I love him?


Do I love him, because I miss him?

After a long nap, and a text message from me telling him to enjoy his brunch with his family and that I was sorry we missed each other, I ate the remainder of my cold duck salad and watched Love and Other Disasters on Netflix. At one point Brittany Murphy’s character Jacks is having a conversation with her best friend and flatmate Simon in which he asks her the age-old question: 

“Who can honestly say they will always love you?” asks Simon

“Whitney Houston.” replies Jacks, very matter of factly.

“Yeah, when she’s high on crack.” retorts Simon.

Perhaps we can give Simon the point on that one.

 Later on she says… “Love isn’t always a lightening bolt… maybe sometimes it is just a choice.”

“Maybe true love is a decision.  A decision to take a chance with somebody. To give to somebody without worrying whether they will give anything back or whether they are going to hurt you or if they really are the one. Maybe love isn’t something that happens to you, maybe it’s something you have to choose.”

RIP Brittany Murphy. Thank you for my evening lesson… that, as Simon says at the end, ” True love is a process, not an event.”

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What can I say that he doesn’t say himself?! Holy shit, this is ridiculous!!!

UPDATE: Apparently Greg D., the video guru himself, pulled ALL of his videos from YouTube after the ridicule he received from pretty much EVERYONE on the internet. I mean, really, are you suggesting that some douche bag comment on my shoes by teasing me and pretending to be my older brother? Yeah, that is HOT and definetly will get me into your “church pew”, as you like to call it.

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You might know you are a bit of a Bridezilla when you host a surprise wedding party at your uncles 75th birthday and after watching him have a heart attack, flatline for 4 + minutes and be brought back by a defibrillator, your response to the staff of the place hosting the event is, ” so, salads?!”  Really? I can understand that people deal with shock and grief in different ways, but for me, an appetite and having a wedding are NOT the ways I do so. I mean, do you really want to always have your wedding mentioned in the same breath as the time your uncle had his heart attack and died for several minutes?!

I have never been that goal orientated in regards to social/cultural milestones. Perhaps because my early milestones were shattered and I didn’t do the get your license, go to prom, graduate and go to college like everyone else that I knew. I moved, a pedestrian with a couple suitcases, I moved to Colorado and lived on the couch of someone I didn’t know while I got some bearings and found a job and a place of my own. Then I became a photographer. Then I became a lesbian, or realized I was, that is. And so, life in Denver was what it was. Beautiful and boring. I moved to NYC.. they blew up towers in my Brooklyn back yard while I photographed it with this girl I had just met. That girl would become my fiance shortly after terrorists blew up two other towers in Manhattan later that summer. Fitting that the relationship would eventually implode as well. She is in L.A. now, married to some other girl, the girls she slept with here. Just an affair she called it. Meaningless. She was a relationship jumper though, leaving one by finding another. That’s what she did when she met me, and that’s what she did when she met her. Someday she will leave her and she will do it on the coat tails of another. Looking back, I can’t imagine my life with her. She held me under water because my breathing scared her. Eventually her chronic suffocation would have killed me.

The wedding though? Crimson red raw silk gowns…that is what I pictured for both of us. Everyone else in white and black… us in red. At the Unitarian Church. In the evening. Candles. I guess I kept a little of that past life as a goth. Until Type Geek, I wasn’t sure how to connect that part of my past with my current life. But his love of goth style imagery, skulls, etc. has reawakened a deeper part of me that makes me laugh. My friends are horrified to find out that I am giving him an animal skull for christmas. It’s something he has wanted for years though, so why should it matter if it is for Christmas or Birthday? It’s a well thought out gift with meaning … that just happens to come from a dead animal.

Now, how do I feel about these milestones? As I have grown older? Is marriage something I consider. I’m not sure. Children? I’m almost 36… they haven’t exactly been something I have been jumping through hoops wanting. Aside from my health concerns regarding childbirth,  I’m not sure of the type of parenting I could provide and certainly, at this point, financially I couldn’t provide anything. I love kids, but I have always been of the mindset of loving OTHER people’s kids. I make a great auntie. I would probably make a great step mom. I guess I would have to reconsider all my answers to these questions if someone I loved truly wanted and felt incomplete without one or the other. Are they somewhere I would be comfortable going?

All I can hope is, that if I ever DO get married, no last rites are given at my pre-ceremony reception because of a guests heart attack mid passed hors d’oeuvres. Perhaps I will stick a defibrillator in the trunk of the car, just in case.

p.s. The man lived and was in stable condition, the last everyone heard. The wedding? It went on. Uncomfortably, but it went on. The cake? A few pieces were left and the staff working the party shared the almost dead Uncle’s piece.

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