How you doin?

After receiving an email from someone who miraculously both came here, and then returned more than once (ha!) I had to check back with Statcounter which I'd vowed to forget and ye did I learn that there are more of you who actually visit despite terrible neglect.. Clearly, you must be lesbians. Masochists, the lot of you. I'm preparing to start graduate school full time in the fall, and work three quarter time as well. Now who's the masochist? Upside being I never write so prolifically as when I'm suffering, and I imagine straddling the real/student world makes for a heap of that. For now, I try to write something, anything, and all that comes are lists of things to accomplish.

On a tangential note I took an Enneagram personality test, and I came up a 4 with 1 leanings, if that means anything to you. Basically, it indicates that while I'm trying to make a dent in the suffering world, I'll ruminate endlessly and want to Express Myself with any willing audience. Awesome. Cliche's abound and so it seems, does this blog.

So... about that time way back when

In a touch from the past, my best friend from high school called me a few days ago. I knew her soft yet high-pitched voice as though we were both 15 again. She left a rambling and sweet message about the way in which this all has affected her, thinking about the people she cares about, and how much she misses me and how important I was in her life. I was unbelievably touched. It took several days for me to get over the shy and call her back, but we spoke yesterday. I didn't go to my reunion this summer, I was in LA and in finals and couldn't make it up, so the memorial next Saturday will be the first time I've seen anyone from home in more than 5 years. She asked how my relationship was. I laughed a little at that. I never had a formal coming out, but thanks to social networking sites the people from my life that keep touch all know. I do wonder how she thinks about it; we were so close then. I've had several women ask if I liked them "like that" back when. I always just reply of course with a wink, the truth is always so much more complicated. As many things that were complicated about my life at that time, my friendship with her was not. She is a sweet, uncomplicated girl, embodying everything I (thought I) was not. I admired her so much, and in some ways that admiration did inform my eventual choice of women ~ I chose someone that contrasts me in many ways.

We talked about our friend's death in shyly framed words, creating a story between us which will eventually become the dialogue to describe this experience, this time, a memory being written. Strange, to be so aware of it. Sometimes I think being a scribbler robs us of sincerity.

No odes

A friend died. Killed herself far away and all that is left are these ghostly reminders of self-constructed fantasy. Was she the culmination of all these words and pictures and pages or were they the eulogy she wished for herself? Sweet words, kind faces, pretty nothings. A whole culture starved for meaningful connection. I don't know but I do feel helpless, sad, and very very disappointed.

I firmly believe that people must choose their own path. Little solace now, for the ones left behind.

I am so sorry.

Come one, come all!

Sugarbutch is having a mêlée of lascivious proportions! Go get your gasp on, and vote for (me) your favorite.

Throw me a penny and I'll make you a dream

Like tossing pennies into a fountain, some wishes are realized more in the resulting ripples than whatever thought went into the wishing. Seeing one's thoughts on paper is something like that. But having them imagined through the erotic center of another? Well, thats more like stripping naked and swimming in a pool full of penny wishes.


Thanks Sinclair... <3

Because I don't know how to dance synonyms

The difference between topping and giving. It’s not only about fucking because it’s also about love. It isn’t about kink, or at least it isn’t just kink. But simply being the doer does not a top make. It is a distinction I’ve struggled to articulate throughout the entirety of my relationship. D is a thoughtful, appreciative, loving partner – but she’s not a top. She’s a giver and I love that about her nature but I struggle every day to fit my sense of eroticism into that. We’ve talked about it, played with it, gone over it and under it… she’d do anything I wanted, anything. But it isn’t authentic for her and so feels contrived and neither of us gets what we want.

We opened the relationship as an experiment to infuse our dynamic with play, tension, flirtation. But I’m not looking to substitute or graft what is missing, so getting involved with another woman was just that, getting involved. It didn’t shift things between D and I, instead I was transferring affections. So what do you do, when you love someone so much, and the sexual chemistry isn’t there? We make love and it is sweet, so sweet as it has always been sweet and I thought I would be happy with that. Why isn’t it enough?

Happy hour

I’ll wear the retro black skirt buttoned high up over my hips and waist, with silk stockings and a yellow silk blouse – sheer, with capped sleeves. I’ll push back my hair with a scarf in black and gold, and little gold earrings and always, always the red lipstick. I’ll wear the black patent heels with rounded toe and jasmine scented lotion. It’s just that sort of night. The first of Spring; deserving of lipstick kisses sticky with pollen and frosted glasses and murmuring voices and coy glances mingling in the delicate warmth.