Bad fetlife luck.

So, I’m a member of fetlife, and for those of you that don’t know fetlife is a like a kinky version of facebook.  I’ve had two people of interest PM me in the past couple weeks that were interesting.  The first was a local dominant who was looking for a semi-regular playmate, which fit the bill for what I was kind of looking for.  However he sent up some red flags.  First he was very guarded with personal details, more so than I’d expect.  Then he asked if I’d be willing to forgo a condom if we were exclusive because they’re “really inconvenient for some things.”  Why yes.  I’m fully aware condoms are a pain in the ass,  and I hope you’re also fully aware you just lost major points asking me to forgo a condom if we got to the point of exclusivity.  You see, I really prefer thinking in the now and right now we aren’t even getting our kink on, let alone being exclusive.  So let’s address the issue of no longer using condoms when we’re exclusive when we get there, which right about now is looking a whole lot like never.

And the second person is only interesting in that he’s a total dud.  His profile was well written and well done but as we started messaging back and forth he used words like “u”, “yrself,” and “nt” among other text talk.  God, text talk is such an unattractive thing to use.  Text talk is even unattractive while actually texting.  it just makes you look uneducated and lazy.  I don’t want any one I play with or otherwise fuck to be uneducated or lazy.  He also didn’t seem to understand that I can’t knit and type at the same time.
So, I guess I’m back at square one.
PS: I’m working on a totally bad ass knitting project.  It’s going to be a stuffed, cabled, knitted penis that should stand up on its base all by itself!!!!!!!!

 

 

Coming out

I’m a pretty firm believer that you should come out of the closet as whatever you are, on your terms, not on anyone elses.  I was lurking in one of my favorite sexy haunts on the internet tonight and saw someone asking if they knew someone by the names of X or Y and what their usernames might be.  This internet haunt isn’t facebook,  first names aren’t public information.  That is such an invasion of privacy.  I have friends on that site.  I’m facebook friends with some of them,  a few have my phone number, and most of them are on skype or other messengers.  We send birthday cards and gifts to each other and everything- despite where we met, we’re real actual friends.   As real as the girls you get coffee with every Wednesday morning.

You see, if it had been me who someone was asking about.  I’d pray to god that my friends would keep my secret identity, secret.  It’s my decision who I tell about my kinky life and no one else and that’s the way it should be.

How being a sub has made me into a better person.

It taught me to pick my battles, because every action has an equal and opposite reaction and that isn’t just a law of physics.  When you push people hard enough, they push back, inside or outside the bedroom.

It taught me how to harness the fiestiness, stubborness, and intensity into something usable, rather than just feistiness, stubborness and intensity.

It taught me how to be a good judge of people.  I’ve always been good at reading people, and being subby just made me that much better at reading potential doms and play partners.

It taught me the art of sexual negotiation(which everyone should know how to do.  Period)  I learned how to ask the right questions.

Two years ago I went though a wild child phase and at some point during this phase, a dom screwed my head on straight.  I didn’t appreciate it for everything that it was then, but now I do.  Kink isn’t just about how you get off.  It has real, redeemable qualities that travel over into your life outside the bedroom.

What. The. Actual. Fuck

I don’t know how old this proactive ad is, or if it’s even legit and not a photoshop job.  For the purposes of this blog post, I’m assuming it’s legit.  The text, in case you don’t want to click my link says “Got Acne?  Ask your boyfriend what to do. Oh, that’s right. You don’t have a boyfriend.”

I’ll let that sink in a bit…

I can’t decide what I like most about this ad.  The suggestion that people with acne can’t get a boyfriend, or the outrageous gender assumptions it makes. (Click me for the male oriented version)  Not every girl wants a boyfriend.  Some girls want a girlfriend.  Some girls don’t want to date at all.  And there is nothing wrong with any of those options.

Who the hell approved these ads and what the fuck were they thinking?

Schtufff

A)  I’m ovulating.  Which means I could orgasm 1000 times and come back for more.

B) My father is going to find out I’m going to the vagina doctor and getting an STI screen done this week.  Two years ago I voted in a poll on facebook about my favorite sex toy manufacturer and my father saw it by snooping on my stepmom’s facebook feed.  He commented about on his facebook.  Something about how his daughter no longer likes barbies or something.  Just please, kill me now.  I’ll give you money.  Lots and lots of money.

C) One of my menstrual cups is missing.  Has anyone seen it?

Porn

I love porn.  I watch porn, but I’d probably never be a porn star, I’m not a size 2 for one thing.  But porn has a place, and it’s important to understand all the places it’s place isn’t.  Porn stars are most comparable to musicians like Elton John, or Olympic swimmers like Michael Phelps.  We don’t look at Micheal Phelps and wonder why we can’t swim as well as he does or why we aren’t as strong as he is.  The answer is obvious.  We don’t swim 6-8 hours a day and have a meal plan planned out by the best of the best.  We have jobs, hobbies, and families outside of swimming.

Porn stars are the same way.  They spend 6-8 hours of their day having sex.  They’ve conditioned their bodies to stay wet and hard, no matter what.  Doesn’t matter if they’d rather be home with their families, or if they have the flu.  They’re hard and/or wet.  They condition their bodies to have not only more orgasms, but more animated orgasms.
We don’t look at Elton John, or Micheal Phelps and wonder why we can’t do what they do, and we shouldn’t look at porn stars and wonder why can’t have sex like they do.

Child Safety Tip….Maybe

  I’m not a parent.  I don’t have children, but I’ve worked with children a lot and this “tip” just seems paranoid.  It’s a nice idea in theory, but what if you have more than one child?  What if you’re a single parent?  “Take a second, make it a habit and take a picture.”  If you have normal children, making them stand still long enough to take a picture before you enter the amusement park will be an olympic feat.

I’m not saying this is a bad idea, because it isn’t.  It’s just unrealistic.  Besides, if your child is kidnapped from an amusement park, the first thing the abductors will change is your child’s clothing.

final thoughts on Intimate Partner Violence

After I published the most recent post, some final thoughts came to me, so I’m wrapping up rather than bring it back up in a week from now or whatever.

You learn about unhealthy relationships in school, from about 5th grade and up really(albiet a version that usually only includes a heterosexual model where the man is the abuser) and you see it on TV, and you invariably think “How they so be so stupid to keep going back.”  “How can they not see the signs?  I saw the signs a mile away.”

And then there is rape culture,  the idea that says “She must have done something wrong.  She deserved it.”  It happens, unless you’re a purity princess, it happens.  Remember when Chris Brown beat Rhianna, lots and lots of people and blogs were saying the exact same thing about Rhianna (You could argue without too much work that the two thoughts above are all a symptom of rape culture, if you wanted though.)  Maybe that’s why I never told anyone at the time, and maybe that’s why I lied to my mother about it when she asked about it last month.

I feel like I had another thought to talk about in this post…but I forget it.  So, if I remember it, I’ll post it separately.

Intimate Partner Violence- My Story

Disclaimer:  This post might be triggering for anyone with a history of intimate partner violence.

I got dressed this week, went out and ran some errands.  It was hot, probably 100 degrees, and muggy.  I put on this wrap-ey, strapless flowy shirt I really like in the summer.  It’s a shirt I haven’t worn in a little over a year because my toxic ex-boyfriend didn’t think it was appropriate to wear in public (he’s wrong, btw.)

My ex and I had a very intense relationship.  We got serious fast.  We dated for four months and then lived together for another fourteen as a couple.  We also lived together seven mouths post break up, but that’s kind of a different story.

While we were dating, I remember times when we would be fighting and he would shake me to get his point across. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I mean, everyone gets frustrated and it wasn’t like he actually hit me or anything.  It’s easier to write off things like that when you’re dating.  The occasions of physical violence were far less common than other smaller stuff that should have sent up very big red flags.  He’d hide my phone, or attempt to take it with him when he left the apartment to go to class claiming that he wanted to make me less dependent on it.  He had a constantly short fuse about pretty much everything and when things went wrong, it was always my fault and he never let me forget about those things.

I’m different, maybe, in that I didn’t end it because of that.  I ended it for different reasons.  I ended it for the wrong reasons.  Clarity for me came really, really slow.  In september, I was sitting in a class listening to a lecturer talk about unhealthy relationships,  that was the first seed of clarity.  The big one was when we were five months post break up, he shook me.  We weren’t even dating and he shook me by the shoulders.  It was something he had done before, but didn’t phase me one bit while we were dating, but now that we weren’t, it was suddenly not OK.  At this point we were tossing the idea back and forth about signing another lease in an apartment together and continuing to live as roommates, and I knew that was a really awful idea in aftermath of that incident( I now live alone.  Go me!)  Clarity is funny like that.  It comes when you need it the most, not too early and hopefully not too late.

A couple weeks ago my mother asked me if he ever hit me out of the blue.  I said no, I didn’t lie exactly, he never did hit me, not exactly.  I told very few people about this once I realized what was going on and none of those people were my mother.  Would it have been better if i had told my mother the truth?  Who is to say either way?

Just get out if you’re living what I lived in any way, shape, or form.  Get out.  There is no reason worth sticking it out.  Not a single one.

When to use condoms

I’ve seen lots of chatter about condom usage in my circle of friends and was inspired to make a post about when you should use condoms, and most of this is my opinion backed up by good sense.

You should use condoms correctly 100% of the time:

A) you and your partner are not fluid bonded.
B) you and your heterosexual partner do not want children.
C) you or your partner might have taken something to compromise their hormonal birth control/condom stash.
D) you and your heterosexual partner are fertile.

Mmmk.  That’s about it.