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Posts Tagged ‘condoms’

That is what HE said.  Italian Ice. How does that even relate to dating, sex and relationships? Then he explained, with the assistance of a picture text, that “Italian Ice” was his nickname for the Snookie-esque woman who messaged him on OkCupid. I have been searching all weekend for a topic. Nothing too serious, nothing too dramatic, emotional, or emotive. I wanted laugh out loud funny. Instead, I got Italian Ice. Then Type Geek  told me about a karaoke stunt he has yearned to do for years that involves him, some Billy Idol and a stutter. Oh yeah, I definitely want muh-muh-muh more. Actually, I do.

The last several months have been rather difficult for me regarding my business, work, finances and housing. I hadn’t let anyone in on the seriousness of it all, rather, I was grinning and bearing it. However, occasionally it would all just be too much and I’d react to something, or as Type Geek said, I would internalize for only so long and then… POP. Truer statements have never been said. Thursday night was the pinnacle of chaotic ugliness. I was hit with a levy from the IRS and my accounts were frozen. No access to anything for the forseeable future until I could pay off the levy. I went home and laid in the bathtub, unsure of what I was going to do. Facing  a short sale, trying to save money for an apartment and a new bed, eeking by on minimal payments to some agencies while having to ignore others all together; the pressure was suffocating.  Type Geek called while I was in the bath and knew, from the sound of my voice, that things weren’t good. I finally agreed to let him into my head.

An hour and a half later he was picking me up outside my condo and we headed to Whole Foods to grab some food for his house. After some pasta, wine, olives and figs, I finally looked down at the table and started telling him what was going on. I opened up about the last 12 months and everything that had happened to get me to where I was at that moment. I cried, he listened and he gave advice. Solid advice, not douche bag advice. It made me realize how lucky I am to have found him, regardless of what we are.

“Regardless of what we are”. Ok, that is a half truth. Things are getting tricky there. We haven’t been using condoms, I am not on the pill and we are not “exclusive”. I’m not dating anyone else. He is talking to other people. Am I feeling a bit insecure? A little. I know he finds me beautiful, sexy, intelligent, awesome, etc. Yet, there is something keeping him from deciding to just let go. I’m not sure what his situation is exactly. Until I am in a new place and have my head screwed on a bit better, I am not going to press for reasons. I am however, going to have a discussion about our lack of condom usage. As much as I prefer him without, as much as I enjoyed our last sexual encounter immensely, we can’t be taking risks like this. Not with all of these great big questions. Not when I may actually want more and he may not.

I spoke with him a short time ago, he had just woken from a nap, groggy, stressed from his inability to motivate around the multiple client deadlines he has facing him on Monday. He sounded distracted and troubled. I suggested he take a long walk in the newly minted autumn air, clear out the fog, the dust. He agreed so we said our usual ciao and promised to touch base later.

I’m hoping,and actually admitting it, that this might develop into something else. Not yet, but eventually. He may not be what I was originally looking for, but sometimes the thing you didn’t think was great on the hanger, looks better than the rest when it’s wrapped around your body at night.

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Any complaints or worries I might have had in the past regarding Type Geek and our sexual style burned up over the weekend when he brought his A game to town. He was away on business for most of the week and I wasn’t sure that we would even see each other this weekend, in fact, I was pretty sure we wouldn’t. When he texted me prior to flying back on Friday night and suggested I come by after work I was quite pleased. I assumed we would have a little fun and I would be back home by noon as I knew he had work to do. Apparently I was the only work he had to do, as his meeting was postponed and so, over the next 30 hours, we proceeded to have sex 4 times. They weren’t quickies either. Nor were they predictable relationship style sex. Woo hoo! Right?!

Okay, grass is greener, yada yada…. let me say THIS. Should you compete in sexual olympics during the summer, be certain to consume enough fluids to stay hydrated because moderate dehydration and minor heat stroke the next day while wandering around in the summer heat is awful. Fever, cold sweats, nausea, confusion, weakness… those aren’t the things you want to be feeling the day after a sexual marathon. Blissed out and relaxed, yes. Clammy, pasty and green, not so much.

I guess this goes to show that safe sex isn’t just about std’s but also body maintenance. You’ll blow an engine if you drive a car without oil… you’ll kill your body if you run it without water. I get it, understood. Lesson learned.

Speaking of safe sex…. I’m thinking of going on the pill as a preemptive regulator for my period. Years ago, when I worked with a large rotating group of women, I suffered from the insecure period…it was never the leader. I’d start working with a new woman and bam, I would suddenly be following her cycle, regardless of the fact that I just had my period two weeks earlier. The worst was having my period 3 times in a month and a half. I don’t want to do this again, hence my considering the pill. An obvious benefit of the pill is no longer needing to consider condoms, at least as a form of birth control. It is weird to hear myself say that out loud. I know that it has been nearly a year since I jumped the fence, but somethings are still strange to think about or hear. Ten years ago I switched to a lesbian doctor at a clinic that specialized with the LGBT community because I was sick of the doctors asking, right off the bat, when I had a menstrual issue, “Are you pregnant?”, or even better, “How can you be sure that you aren’t pregnant, we should do tests” . Hmm, until two clits rubbing together can spontaneously create the magic of childbirth… highly unlikely. Jesus Christ

So, anyway, I am considering the pill… I am also considering dumping the condoms with Type Geek. Here comes the question… Neither of us are dating anyone else, do we need to have a conversation about us prior to our conversation about my going on the pill? Can we be casually exclusive? Is there such a thing? Chime in…. and make sure you are drinking your fluids.

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My ex broke up with her girlfriend…AGAIN. Hopefully it sticks this time. The relationship is volatile and dangerous. If everything that has happened now, isn’t sufficient reason to leave, it will take one of them in the hospital and/or jail in order to finally end this relationship. So, she called me after picking up her things from the other woman’s apartment and was headed home when I suggested that I buy her and her mother lunch, someplace cheap, so that they could just decompress and potentially have a few laughs, rather than wallowing in a bad place. She agreed.

We met halfway between where I was with my dog and a client and the, now, ex-girlfriend’s apartment. A Panera Bread cafe. They have this apple chicken salad I LOVE. Her mom had a ham and swiss on rye and my ex, she had the tomato soup…and picked at it, as she picks at all her food. We were sitting there listening to her dissect, again and again, this girlfriend and the actions that led up to this moment. It’s exhausting after a while. All you can do is be supportive, but sometimes, that is difficult when they can’t be supportive of themselves. It feels like a losing battle.

I realized as we sat there that there was a sex shop around the corner. Hmm, I need condoms. I have the Kimono Large because the guy I was hoping to be with when I bought them was jewish and a bit girthy than average. Type Geek is not jewish so the large would be wrong. After we finished our lunch, my ex and I wandered over while her mom sat in her car. Her mom was a little embarrassed. We walked in and she went off and pouted, looking around and thinking of her now ex. I stood staring at the condoms. So foreign to me after 12 years with women. I had hoped to get some regulars but they didn’t have the extra thin regular Kimonos. Hmmpf. I ended up picking up a couple Skyns and some Avanti Bares. The Polyisophrene material is supposedly far superior to latex in terms of heat transfer and feeling, both for the wearer and the receiver. We shall see. I also picked up some Sliquid lube, as I was told the Skyns can sometimes dry out quickly without additional assistance. Not good and good to know!

Perhaps I will get a chance to try them out on Saturday evening AND Sunday morning. One never does know what the world shall bring. Type Geek and I have that date with the dog and an outdoor music festival on Saturday afternoon. Sun and grass can be quite good for the libido, especially if I figure out how to wear something that isn’t suggestive but is. Hmm, demure sundress sans panties? All I know is this… I have been thinking of having sex on Type Geek’s kitchen table for days. Why? I am not sure, but surely, this would be quite fun. That is a small goal for this coming weekend.

The rest of the week is shaping up to be post worthy. Cooper Fiennes and I are grabbing a cocktail and a trip to the cinema tonight, and Brooklyn wants a dog free lunch meet up on Thursday. How will this be? I haven’t seen him in over a month I think. I have been able to subdue my feelings for him, compartmentalized them in a way that is safe and allows me to exist without constant thoughts. I miss him, yes. I miss that connection. I can’t continue as we have been however, I can’t continue being disregarded. I’m not sure what is going to come out in our conversation over lunch, if we make it to lunch. I might find him too frustrating to be around and just walk away. Perhaps, this is what needs to happen.

Sweet, sweet “hump day”, the week is at mid-point, but there are still so many stories that need to be told, adventures to go on, life to be lived, before the week cycles into the next. I can’t sleep with the Spaniard. Not yet. That would be too many men in 7 days. I do want some kisses against a wall and in the rain though. How hot would that be? Mmmm, yeah. Super hot.

So, what are your experiences out there with all the different types of condoms? Informal survey… comment with your most favorites, least favorites, what ones broke (the horror), what ones made you thing a steel drum around your cock would have given more sensation?! Inquiring minds, we want to know!

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I don’t talk to people on the phone prior to meeting them. I know this sounds odd. There are a number of reasons for this though. First, you can’t see someone’s face, so you may not be able to pick up subtleties in the conversation. Second, some people are poor telephone conversationalists but GREAT in person. It isn’t fair to make the telephone conversation your first impression of them. Third, and last, IF the conversation flows, a false sense of intimacy can occur. So, I like to meet for coffee as soon as possible and see if investing in awkward conversations on the telephone are worth the hassle. No spark, no need, right?

Well, Mr Bratty McLawyer turned IT Guy, or Bratty McLaw, as I will call him, insisted that I call him. UGH, FINE! He was cute and charming in his messages and his profiles, so I figured I would go ahead and break that one rule. I wanted to hang up on him after talking to him for an hour. I was finding him to be egotistical, self-centered, arrogant, insulting, condescending and rude. It didn’t seem like the man who had been corresponding with me, so I spoke up and gave him a bit of a verbal smack down and, after being stunned silent, he apologized for how he came off and changed course to try to resurrect the conversation, if possible. We spent 10 hours on the phone. The sun came up and I said good-bye to him and hung up as I locked the door behind me and headed to work. It wasn’t an amazingly passionate conversation. It wasn’t even that we connected in some deep sense. The conversations pale in comparison to the things said in my shared silences when I was with Brooklyn, however, he was interested and charming, so I kept talking. I am far too old for a night without sleep these days.

I came home from work and took a few hours nap, and began some laundry. It was chilly out however and I really wanted to get out and have a cocktail by a fireplace somewhere. My other possibilities were not available, so I texted Bratty McLaw and asked if he wanted to have a drink in a few hours. He eagerly confirmed and we agreed to meet in 2 hours.

Shower, run to laundromat, move clothes to dryer, run home, apply make up and finish getting dressed, run to laundromat and grab dry clothes, run home and drop off, walk dog, grab purse, catch bus to subway, subway to taxi and drive by as he is walking down the street thinking he will meet me at the train station. Umm, I said I would meet you at the bar silly boy. Geez. Luckily I saw him and was able to get the cab driver to pull over and let me out early. I rang him on the phone and proceeded to direct him in my direction. There was a humourous moment of voyeurism that I found myself stuck in as I was able to pull his strings and move him without his knowledge as to where I was or how I was able to see him so clearly when he didn’t see me anywhere.

He was cute in person. Not breathtaking, but attractive. Softer facial features than the photos in his profile implied. We decided, as we stood on the street, that my original location choice for a rendezvous wasn’t actually what either of us were feeling. So, we opted to walk to his car and drive over to a different bar. Chemistry, mmm, ish. 6′ 2″, blonde, fit but not gym rat like, comfortable smile, arty glasses, and just enough vanity to be self-confident in person. I was honestly worried that he would be the schmuck I was thinking he might be when we first started chatting the night earlier. This person though, it wasn’t there. Perhaps it was nervousness that led him to project the persona of douche bag shithead, but luckily, whatever it was, it was nowhere in sight when we were in person.

We arrived at the second bar around 10 pm. It was dead. Which, honestly, was quite fine. We sat at a high top and each ordered a glass of wine. He was snackie, so we also had some spinach artichoke dip. Conversation was friendly. By the second glass of wine, he was reaching for my hand and stroking my arm. By the 3rd, he was kissing me. Did the kisses overwhelm me and leave me speechless? No, but they were quite good. His kissing style is similar to mine and it felt nice. We decided to go back to his place and make out a bit more. My dog could easily do an 8 hour span of time between potty breaks, and since it was midnight at this point, she was probably sleeping anyway and wouldn’t miss me for a few more hours, at least.

We drove back to his place and I took off my heels as we walked up to his apartment. Heels on wood stairs in these old multi unit buildings, well, I would have woken everyone in the building. He made me sit on the stair outside his unit while he took 5 minutes to tidy up. I chuckled. Knowing the current condition of my own residence, there is virtually nothing, short of live creatures roaming about, that would offend me. I live in a cluttered construction zone, bring on your mess… I can trump it right now buddy.

A few minutes later he comes out and ushers me in quietly. His roommate is sleeping on the other end of the unit so we need to be self-aware of voices and laughter. So, why put on Colbert and Jon Stewart if you don’t want me to laugh out loud?! The laughing didn’t last long however, as he made his move within 5 minutes of us sitting on the couch together. My rule for the night…. sadly overdue for a wax… I look like a hippy body hair loving freak… hands stay out of the pants and they stay on.

An hour of making out on the couch can kill any back, so, logically we move to the sleep number bed. We play with the settings, laugh some more amidst some occasional shhhh’s from the each of us to the other. So, the shirts end up off. Of course they do. Then, even though I say…warning will robinson…danger danger… furry wildebeast…stay away from the Northern region… I end up with his hand down my pants. He said that he would take note of my objection and embarrassment and keep in mind that au naturale is not my current state… and then he peeled the jeans completely off. Oh oy vey. This is not leading anywhere good, is it?

Well, leading anywhere good? Hmm, well, after a lot of frustrating teenage grinding in our undies… I stopped him and stated what we both knew. Let’s just admit that we are going to have sex and rather than keep up with this silliness under the ruse that we aren’t going to…. go get the goddamn condoms now. So, student driver finally got laid. Was in earth shattering? No. Did it need to be? No. Was he a sweet and kind lover? Yes. It was comfortable, even though I was furry as all get out and embarrassed by that. We were both exhausted from the previous nights marathon conversation and our lack of sleep, so neither of us got off in the end, but it felt great regardless. The sun was coming up as we finally disengaged and gave up on a definable finish line. We set the alarm for 3 hours, so we could get a little sleep, and then readjusted our personal sleep numbers for our individualized snoozing comfort.

The dog? She was asleep on the bed when I walked in the door at 8:45 am. She hadn’t noticed that I hadn’t come home that night, in fact, she seemed quite pleased to have the bed entirely to herself.

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The weather was so great yesterday, a reprieve from the month of bone chilling temps. I awoke in the morning with multi-layered guilt. It was a guilt trifle, if you will. My pup has had cabin fever from a lack of canine fun and I had stood up the Turk numerous times, so I decided to combine the two and remove the guilt in one train ride. The pup and I met the Turk outside Starbucks and proceeded to walk and talk , get a tea, then walk and talk some more.We ended up back at his house eating some sautéed shrimp, drinking some wine and making out, with my having to lay down the law on 2nd base making out only. He was pouty about this but dealt with it.

He’s nice, young, eager, stable BUT…. there is always a but, isn’t there? I don’t feel it. My toes don’t get all curly when we kiss like they did with the Peruvian. I am also fairly confident in my belief that he is a bit of a player. That, in and of itself, is fine, however, don’t play me. If you want to have sex with me, DON’T feed me a line of bullshit to get me to go to bed with you. I will if I am interested and I won’t if I am not. While I am not easy, per se, I don’t play sexual games of cat and mouse if I want someone. The only time games are introduced is if they are naughty and sexy and mutually agreed upon. So, why do I think he is a player? Aside from the truth of the night we met and that we were both making out with numerous people, his words feel too rehearsed at times and he has condoms everywhere in his house. A ridiculous amount of them stashed everywhere. I lost one of my diamond earrings when we were making out and realized it a couple hours later when we had moved from the living room into the bedroom. He has condoms under his bed pillows, stuffed in the couch cushions and under the couch. At all times. Just in case. In case of WHAT? In case of the need to relocate your building?!  He has enough condoms stashed to be a live action version of the film Up, if he were to inflate them all with helium. At least he is into safe sex, but oy vey!

I guess my general feeling of Meh in regards to the Turk also stems from many superficial things that I can’t seem to get past. He razors his head… like Yul Brynner. He shaves his back, sometimes (what about the rest of the time?) because he admits to being a “really hairy guy”. BUT, he doesn’t wax his one giant eyebrow. Really? Why not? Oh, and there is a weird thing he did when we were making out at his house. Not that WHAT he did was necessarily WEIRD,but that he chose to do it so soon and without testing the waters. He is a tit slapper. What in the fuck is with that?! Yeah, no, I don’t like that. That’s distracting and silly to me. Stop that.

So, I have a general degree of meh-ness when it comes to him. I’m not excited about him, at all and that seems unfair to him, however, I don’t think he necessarily cares HOW excited I am, as long as I am willing to make out with him. I am however finding myself excited when I think about the Musician,Writer,Assoc Prod guy. I need a new name for him, any suggestions? Even though our date had to be delayed on Friday, I find our gmail chats to be refreshing and something I look forward to. He has a sweetness about him that makes me smirk. A smirk is a very good thing.

All in all, a slow week. The foreigner friend of mine and I are headed out for cupcakes to soothe my menstrual craving, nomnomnom, and perhaps a hazelnut mocha as well.

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