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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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1/2 pint Haagen Daaz Bananas Foster
1/2 bag Honey Coated Cashews
1 Tablespoon SUPER AWESOME Jamaican Rum
spoon

Type Geek has left the state. I bought new lingerie, drank with some co-workers at my new job, ate nachos THEN steak frites..and flirted shamelessly with both. Would I sleep with either? No. Back in the day… both. She is HOT, young, dreadlocked and sexy. Him? He is physically close to Type Geek but stretched out two inches taller. A bit self-assured and cocky, but I think he could probably follow through and satisfy.

We all gathered at a local hipster joint renowned for the fixies parked out front and vegan foods inside. She is semi raw and I am gluten intolerant, and they sell beers the two of them like and cider for the boozy allergic girl. The conversation jumped from topic to topic, with my male colleague taking opportunities to flirt with us both while we belly laughed. After 2 hours we sent the boy on his way and decided we needed some retail therapy. Retail therapy for me usually entails some sort of lingerie shopping.  Raw Grrl wanted a dress and a purse, so I made the executive femme girl shopping decision and led us to Anthropologie. She tried on an adorable blush rose and purple dress, but I think the sheer girliness of it freaked her out, so she opted out of it. I made her try on a tank that I thought would look super hot on her, and it did, but she also shook her head. She was just casually dating the clothes. I was ready to commit after finding an adorable panty set by Only Hearts. Because I couldn’t decide between the white and the blue, I opted for both. They are pictured above and while no longer available on-line… you can still find them in some stores, Check out the clearance section. Only Hearts, style Creme Brulee. Hmm, Type Geek can tap my torch burnt crust with his spoon any day. 

Speaking of, I got laid this week. Halle-fucking-lu-HAH!

 I grabbed a rental car and drove over after work. It was a comedy of errors getting there, the battery died as I parked in front of a hydrant with the hazards on and I needed to run in and grab my pooch for a 20 minute walk before disappearing across the river. After putting her back inside the condo and finding the car wouldn’t turn over, I spent 20 minutes pacing outside my front door while calling the rental place, roadside assistance, texting Type Geek, and cursing. After hearing it would be an hour PLUS before the roadside assistance could arrive, I ran down to the Chinese restaurant around the corner and asked if their delivery driver could give me a jump (no dice) before deciding to call the livery service down the road. I offered their driver $10 to come the 10 blocks and jump me. After hanging up from them I heard my pooch carrying on inside the condo and I assumed, wrongly, that she was upset at hearing the sound of my voice without being able to see me. I stepped inside to find that in fact, the excited barking I heard, was that of joy and fun as she hurled the full bag of potting soil all over my living room. YAY! I had just enough time to sweep up the majority of the dirt prior to the livery driver arriving to get me up and going. I kissed the pup on the head and within 15 minutes of calling for roadside assistance I was on my way, albeit $10 poorer.

I made it to Type Geek’s apartment in less than 15 minutes, with barely any traffic on the highway, I flew. Of course the door was NOT unlocked like it was supposed to be. I was luckily able to wake him and he scratched his head after realizing that yet again, the plan was foiled. Sigh. I kissed him and sent him back to bed before jumping in his shower to wash off the work day and potting soil. I also needed to warm up from the cold drizzle and shave, since I was hoping for some morning sex. Best shower ever. I love his shower and I love his bed. They are happy places for me.

So, I finally got there, I had a satisfying hot shower, curled into bed and had the best spooning ever, until my leg started bothering me and I had to pee. After crawling back under the covers and wrapping around him, I finally found my groove and was able to get to sleep, then his alarm started sounding 4 hours later (ahem, he forgot to reset it for a later time, since he was working from home and NOT driving to the office.) The morning sex was awesome. Really awesome.  Although, it surprised me, he didn’t stop for a condom this time. I’m not at risk this week for getting pregnant and he did pull out at the end, BUT, it isn’t his normal modus operandi. Once his work settles we seriously need a talk. If he wants to go condom free, which I would not be adverse to, we need to clarify our situation.

For any of you women who are sleeping with men at the moment, or have in the past, or any of you men, who have female partners, what is your personal condom/birth control set up? What do you do? How often after you were dating was it implemented? How did you discuss the implications and make the decision to go the path you have or had? Please share your own experiences. Until you do, pardon me, I have some Haagen Daaz to eat.

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My internal GPS is a little off these days. It seems that there are a lot of roads under construction and I haven’t yet updated the latest maps. In the 3 months since I started this site many things have happened. I have dated brothers, accidentally. I have been thrown out of a mall for making out with a 20 something kid, on a bench at 2 am, like horny teenagers. I’ve been stood up, stuck with the tab, and gone to 3rd base more times than I had in the last 4 years. I have figured out what I like and don’t like in men and in doing that, realized a bit more about what i did and didn’t like about loving women. I have also figured out some things about myself.

The big question right now is one of direction. While I haven’t officially stopped seeing other men, I haven’t been going out with them. I have lost interest in the chase, because in the end, it’s a lot of work for little reward. I enjoy hanging out with Brooklyn, regardless of what we do. Regardless if nudity and/or passionate making out is involved. I enjoy occupying the same physical space as him and just sitting. I am able to achieve an almost meditative calm with him that I can’t achieve at a Buddhist center in a structured session of sitting. So, where is this blog going? How do I bring the edge back? The humor? I realize that life is a series of moments and not all moments are filled with hilarity but that is why you all tune in, no? If you wanted bad romance, you would rent a copy of The Notebook and eat Haagen Daaz.

The last month has been interesting. Healing, in a lot of ways. Frustrating, in others. Trying to navigate the waters of this man’s personal river of separation, children, soon to be ex wife, and issues surrounding relationships and sex has been unlike anything I have experienced. I would love to hear from people out there who have experienced similar things. Perhaps you dated a divorcee with kids? Perhaps you are the ex wife; what were you feeling when he first started dating someone new? Maybe you are the dad, recently separated and moving on with your life. What were you feeling when you met someone new who you were really interested in? How did this factor into your life? Where there funny moments? Difficult moments? Please share your stories. Thanks everyone for hanging out with me and keeping me company on this journey.

Tuesday posts are web syndicated by http://www.thenewgay.net

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2 medium-sized lobsters
1 pound of littleneck clams
arborio rice
fresh tarragon
chicken and lobster stock
marscapone cheese
frizzled leeks
roasted garlic
pancetta
lemon zest
New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc
40 yellow Daffodils from the cheap asian market
sea salt
pepper
and many many smooches.

Brooklyn has never had lobster. How is that possible?! So, I invited him to dinner at the home I am house sitting at and I plan to wow him with my culinary skills. To start? A simple arugula, pine nut, and shaved parmesan salad with a drizzle of extra virgin olive oil and a squeeze of lemon. To end? Pate de Fruit in assorted tropical flavors. To drink? New Zealand S.Blanc from the Marlborough Region. Amazing? Yes, it will be.

I am trying to meet other people. I swear. I am corresponding with several men at the moment but they are all lackluster, or maybe the real issue is that I can’t see the forest when I am looking at this particular tree.

Check out tomorrow’s post for the actual recipe, including measurements, how the meal went AND the rundown on all the men in the periphery. At this moment, I must get into the kitchen. I’m wondering though. Is it torture to let my dog chase the lobsters around while I prep the other stuff? Hmm. That IS an ethical dilemma. Amusing , yes. Mean, maybe.

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