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Posts Tagged ‘gay pride’

I met my ex-fiance 9 years ago at Canteen on Mercer Street and Prince Street in SoHo. I was meeting up with some old friends for brunch who had come to town for Gay Pride. With them was a firecracker of a red-head. Busty and sardonic, great musical taste, art film geek who I didn’t even consider because it was impossible. She was impossibly cooler than I. You see, back then, 9 years ago, I didn’t know that I was as awesome as I am. I didn’t feel beautiful or sexy. I felt awkward and unworthy of the attention of any beautiful woman. I hid behind the camera lens that I used to capture the things I thought were beautiful. Photography is a great escape from reality, a great distancer. I spent most of my life as a voyeur, watching others live and love. By the end of Pride, Godard Lover (she was obsessed with À bout de souffle) had taken down my email and asked if she could drive down in a few weeks in order to film some natural gas tanks in my neighborhood getting imploded. It was during that trip that she asked me out. It was also during that trip that I finally had sex with a woman. Prior to that, I dated them, kissed them, made out in the corners of gay bars with them, but I hadn’t actually made love to one. The girl that I had always thought would be THE ONE and that looking back I still believe SHOULD have been THE ONE, well, our lives could never intersect as perfectly as they should have. So, it took from my first love, my beautiful Candy Necklace Girl at 17, until years later, at 25, to finally have a woman make love to me. I was petrified. I thought I would be horrible. Perhaps I was quaint and the awkwardness was charming, I apparently earned at least a passing score, because Godard Lover and I would spend my remaining time in NYC swapping out travel weekends with one of us staying with the other nearly every weekend in one city or the other.

The video of the implosion is not the same video that she shot that day. I found this video on YouTube while looking for the Implode Brooklyn t-shirts some screen-printers had made. I had one which I bought off the street that day. Later that day, while wearing the shirt, I sat in a park not far from Rob Morrow of Northern Exposure as he enjoyed the sunshine with his baby as he read the paper on a bench. He had one of his legs crossed over, ankle to knee and I remember that he was wearing moccasins, but that one had fallen off, so he sat there, with one shoe on, reading the paper, and I remember thinking how much I loved NYC for that. For those moments of imperfection. I miss that about NYC.

great line: happiness isnt happiness without a violin playing goat

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6 months ago I started this blog with no idea where I would be in a week, let alone 6 months. I just wanted to start chronicling the journey. Surely I wasn’t the first gay woman to suddenly question her predilections, let alone act on her heterosexual curiosity. I remember thinking that I was going to generate a lot of back lash from the gay segment of my personal community. Interestingly enough, the hetero’s were the ones that were the most resistant. As if I had tasted something they hadn’t and subsequently I wasn’t allowed back in their house with my proverbially soiled feet. I almost lost one friendship with a friend of nearly 20 years, until I finally called him on his insecurities. Interestingly, some of the men in my life were angry. How could I, after that many years, suddenly jump the fence, without considering THEM an option. Many of them are married or partnered up, by the way. So, their egos were bruised. In the end, all friendships remain in tact and everyone is fine with, what now appears to be, my ho-hum, incident free crossing into this other country.

The one thing I haven’t settled on, however, is what am I defining myself as? Do I need to be defining myself? I don’t feel straight. I definitely no longer feel gay. Am I queer? If forced to make a verbal statement? I’m not sure.

At Pride last weekend, in conversation with my former neighbor, she told me about how many of her friends are now half-gay. Not bisexual, not gay, NOT straight but sorta in this ambiguous middle ground of mixed greys. Half-gay. Interesting.

Have any of you noticed a recent jump in your GLBT friends making changes in their predilections? Have you done so personally? Tell me your stories.

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Last Tuesday night was a fun night with Type Geek. Being with him is always this great mix of sweetness and naughtiness. I never feel like I need to play a charade or be something I am not with these two boys I am seeing right now. I have tried to step it up with the dresses a bit and play up the girly factor a little bit more, since they both seem to really enjoy that, but it isn’t something that comes unnaturally. I was always a very femme girl. The time and effort are what stopped my sometimes, not the dress and the cute shoes. So, as I was saying, it’s nice to wake up next to someone and be able to just be yourself.

I was wondering how this was going to work, now that Type Geek and Cooper Fiennes are back in the same city, hell, the same neighborhood. So far, it’s interested. This past weekend was the first experiment in how this will work. I have this weird thing in my mind, If I am going to see the two boys on back to back nights, I need to see Type Geek and then Cooper Fiennes the next. I would be embarrassed to say this, to admit it to some people, BUT, this is anonymous and only a very few of you know my real identity…so what the hell. I feel like it’s unfair to have sex with the well endowed energizer bunny the night before the average guy. Average is NOT bad, but I get a different, more primal, being fucked kind of feeling from my Spaniard. There are times, and certain positions, that are almost painful. Not quite painful, but almost. Type Geek is wonderful, but I don’t get that feeling from him. I really enjoy sex with both of them, but there is something about fucking a man with a perfectly toned body, a large cock and a great sense of humor, that sometimes trumps the guaranteed orgasm the other can give you.  Cooper Fiennes is a piece of fruit with an expiration date, and I want to savor it while I have it. Type Geek lives here, is a permanent resident, has relationship potential, if I decide I want a relationship with a man again.

So, I was hoping to see Type Geek on Thursday or Friday, with Cooper Fiennes following up on Friday or Saturday. Plans with Type Geek kept getting turned around, post-poned and canceled due to work and family emergencies. I understand and truthfully, I am not bothered by it. I feel badly for some of the drama he is digging through at the moment. It’s hard to come back from vacation and step right back into chaos. So, then I tried to make a date with Cooper Fiennes. We had lunch later in the week, Thursday. That was nice, but not naked. Friday night he was exhausted. He ran 7 miles, played soccer and had gone rowing for 2 hours. He was done by 10 pm and hoping to be in bed by 11. We had a big gay brunch to go to on Saturday morning. June is always gay pride month, as many of us are aware, and I was invited to a brunch by a couple I know. Cooper Fiennes and I went, stood in the rain and watched some big gay festivities, I came out to my former neighbor as a recently reformed cock lover (which elicited an interesting response that I will touch base on in my next post), and then my dog and I walked C.F. across town to a bar for the World Cup games. I then headed home and had fingers crossed that I was seeing my Type Geek that night.

As the hours stretched by, it seemed likely I would be stuck at home alone for the night. T.G. had family stuff that needed to be dealt with and C.F. was being less than responsive to my texts wondering what he was up to after he was done hanging with his work friends. his work friends do NOT know the true nature of our relationship. I think some have an idea BUT it is a little complicated. Prior to meeting me, he had a very brief fling with one of their fellow colleagues. C.F. is married, but with no hope of reconciliation. His wife wanted something different and she told him so and moved on. he can’t finalize the divorce until he goes back to Spain. His colleague was cheating on her husband to be with him. Because of this, and how attached she was for their situations, C.F. ended it. She has been a bit passive aggressive ever since. Also, he is semi private about his divorce. While they know he isn’t living with her anymore and that I seem to show up at weird places and weird times, nothing has been said. Eventually, I’m taking a bath at 9 pm. It will prove to either be for a quick shave so I can molest C.F. or a pre bed soak. Midway through my bath, C.F. says he will meet up. Yay, sex !!

We met on the train platform, I stuck the fishnets back on, with my boots, a hot little silky black dress I hadn’t worn yet and minimal eye makeup. I knew the makeup wasn’t what he would be looking at. As we sat next to each other on the train, I slid his hand under the edge of the dress so he could feel that I had on garters. Happy boy. We picked up some ice and made it back to his house in record time. As I made us a couple of cocktails, he tried to distract me. We started on the kitchen counter and then he picked me up and moved me to the bed. Damn, it’s really hot to be physically picked up and moved around by someone like that. Again, stockings stayed on, sex rocked and we actually finished before dawn. We then finished our drinks and had a really great conversation about us and his marriage and our philosophies on life and dating and sex, etc. Next thing I know, we are having sex again. He is exhausted, I’m sore, and we really just need to sleep cause the birds are singing and he has to meet his colleagues to support a team event they are participating in. We look at each other and just pull up the blankets and stop. Then the phone rings. The event is starting early, in a half hour to be precise. I was planning on heading home, grabbing the dog and meeting back up, as if we hadn’t been in bed with eachother all night. That was not going to happen however. He jumped in the shower, I just threw on my non naughty clothes I brought to change into and we ran over to the event site.

Within a half hour, his colleagues all noticed I was there, and it was early and hmmm. One woman made comments. We think she knows. She kept saying things to illicit responses from either of us, specifically me and I would play deaf, ignorant or just laugh and change the topic whenever she said a word. I’m curious how this will all play out for him now that the week has started back up. Meanwhile, I held out mini hopes that maybe I could hang out with Type Geek on Sunday evening, but his brother is just too ill and needed him there for the night. The brother is being brought back to the hospital today. Hopefully they find an answer to his months of problems and I get my boy back soon.

Now, it’s the beginning of the week. I am going to try to avoid chatting up my Spaniard and try to get some errands taken care of. I want him to contact me next time he wants sex or company. I shouldn’t be doing the chasing all the time. He needs to work for it a bit, I have been too easy for him.

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