celebrity special

When I suggested we meet, it struck me an unusual move on my part. Normally I'd only do that if I knew a lot about the person and wanted to know more. In this case, I know hardly anything about him. What was it that made me think meeting might be fun?

This is one of those multi-thousands of followers Twitter folks, a "celebrity" among the Twitter people. I thought at first, aw, shit, am I just star struck? And I'm always honest, so I know there's some of that. Then I considered, what makes me like that he's a "star?" There's something that makes me feel special to be "selected" by someone who in a lot of ways has access to thousands and thousands of people's attention.

Back in the 90s I chatted some with Mike Doughty (then just "Doughty") of the band Soul Coughing. He left backstage passes to a show at one point which I giddily accepted. Nothing came from this, but it's the same kind of situation (though the Twitter thing is less flirty). Someone who had qualities I actually liked, but also had qualities I might have rejected him for if he weren't "famous" (relatively speaking) got my attention because he paid attention to me.

In the case of this Twitter guy, it's certainly more than his many followers and good writing that made me suggest we meet. It was also a very casual suggestion on my part, not something I'd reorganize my life to make happen. He seems nice, though, in the very (very) limited chats we've had. It would be one of those harmless/make an online person a fuller picture cups of coffee.

When STBX asked me (because his girlfriend had asked him) what my plans were for dating, etc. I said with what I realize sounds like significant arrogance, "When I'm ready, I'll have my pick... I'm not worried about it. I'm just not ready, yet." I actually do believe it's true, that I'll have my pick of men. That's only because I'm not attracted to or interested in men who aren't attracted to or interested in me. So, of course, I'll be able to date whoever I want because I'll only want those who want me. Simple, yeah?

Now my mind has wandered onto that guy I was hitting on online who ended up calling me "creepy" and how he's not someone who wanted me when I wanted him. Though, that's not true. He was definitely reciprocating. When he started misreading me, I stopped being interested in him. So, yes, I guess it still holds true.

All of us, I expect, enjoy feeling special. That "picked out of a crowd" is something some of us enjoy more than others. I've always been very upfront with my star struck personality. Seems silly to pretend I think it means nothing if someone's particularly popular with a "public." But after that initial "neato!" bit wears off, it's really clear even the real celebrities are just people. Real people to whom a lot of people pay a bit of extra attention. Gack to that sentence. Hitting publish anyway.

please tell me how it is for you (public sex)

As I walked toward a couple in Portland today, they leaned up against a building and started really going at it. Like, pressing into each other, etc. I saw it out of the corner of my eye, but had to walk past them and could "feel" that it was not your typical mild PDA. As I averted my eyes, I thought of the topics of these posts here. What is it that makes me want to not look?

Do you look away if you see people gettin' it on in public? If not, why not? If yes, why do you look away?

Thanks for any replies you're willing to make. In comments on the blog is great, replies on tumblr's okay (though that sucks for conversation), and email is fine if you're not going to comment any other way.

new porn realization

This feels like new information to me. My not liking porn is absolutely not (only) a self-esteem issue! Totally unrelated to me, how I feel about myself, how my man might feel about me, I think I just simply don't like seeing such personal stuff in such an impersonal way. They aren't people I know, so I don't want to be seeing that part of them. It's interesting, because I have this feeling like I'll be considered "prude" for not liking porn for this reason. That's obviously a load of hooey, so, it's in the "oh, well, whatever" category. But, here, check this out (NSFW for sure): http://www.redtube.com/47 There is no reason at all this would stress me out about myself, since we hardly see anything anyway. But when I saw the ejaculate on the face I was like, oh, yuck, no, I don't want to see that. That's none of my business, too personal. Then all those thumbnails below, no no no. No, thank you. Very different than if it were someone I was intimate with personally.

I'm not sure why I feel I ought to like porn or why I feel liking it is some sort of "proof" of sexual freedom. It's an issue I'm obviously thinking about (mostly, I'm pretty sure, because of the absurd amount of time I've spent online in the last many many months). Most important is liking my own body and my own sexuality. There is something intriguing for me, though, about all these different levels of why I don't like porn. It's the anonymity of it that makes me feel really, really gross and no where near in that good dirty way. The anonymity that makes it an absent, emotionless experience makes me sad (relates back to bad experiences). Then, the anonymity of the "too personal" makes it something I'd rather not see just like I'd avert my eyes if a couple near me in a park started kissing.

For 25 years I've wanted to be a woman who is able to have emotion-free sex, the "zipless fuck." I twisted myself emotionally trying to make it be true. Because of the inconvenience of it, and because it's new self-awareness (haven't fully incorporated it into my identity), I find it immensely annoying that I'm "like women." I'm a part of the god damned stereotype. I need to care for and be cared for deeply by a partner for the sex to be good. Dammit. Dammit. Dammit.

Glad I got that new hand-held shower head installed. Bah.

wordless wednesday

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ch-ch-ch-changes

Tomorrow I turn 41. Friday, STBX moves out. Saturday... well, I'll probably spend the day cleaning rugs (down to 1 cat from 3, ACHOO), rearranging furniture, and setting up my new office/art studio. Did I say "art?" D'oh! I did!

Last year when I was in the middle of both several crises and the thrills of passion, I did NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month where we write 30k words in 30 days). I'm going to get back to my personal writing. I'm also going to put together a book proposal I was going to start a while back (about truly amicable divorce, there are *no* books out there for support for this situation and it seems a lot more common than people realize). Around the time of NaNo, I also did some oil pastel drawings which I haven't done in probably a decade. This weekend I'm going to grab my easel and paints (someone told me acrylics last forever if they're in their original tubes, which would be amazing because I had a lot of good paint) and set up space in the room that's currently housing STBX and all his stuff.

I'm also going to get the stationary bike that's been in the basement of our rental duplex (want to buy a great rental property? PLEASE? Here are the details. It's a good, good deal, m'friends.) for 7 years. I figure one of the ways I'll take advantage of the times STBX is on with the girls will be to ride that thing and listen to my audio books. I don't know. Maybe I'll get some muscle tone. That'd be a first. More than that, though, I imagine it'll help my sanity to move (and have the sound of what's going on elsewhere in the house blocked out).

The last couple years of my life have been some of the more difficult emotionally, but also (or because) they've been life changing. On par with 1996 when I got sober. Bigger than graduating college and having my parents tell me I couldn't come home. In the last couple years I was pregnant, had a baby, realized my marriage wasn't what I thought it was, and I also came to terms with my sexuality. In the process my entire identity has had to shift. I'm still juggling the realities of the promises I made in the fall of 2001 (forever, no matter what) with the realities of what's best for us now (friends, not lovers or married partners).

I'm returning to my center, though. In the last few days the emotional work of the last many months brought me some clarity about "that guy." I've been gardening and cooking more, spending more time away from this danged machine, and getting active again in my recovery program (alcoholism). In fact, I "told my story" around my sobriety date and it was tremendous. I've had some of my more painful moments recently where I've just generally treaded water. But, mostly, I've realized I want to be the me that I like. The me I like is interesting and more importantly, interested.

My older daughter has been struggling in very "healthy" and "good" ways about the divorce. She's growing so much. She's a role model and an inspiration. My younger daughter seems to be nearly always either concentrating intensely and telling me about the dog/bird/baby/giraffe/ball/elephant, etc. (sign language) or giggling. Oh, she is a giggler. (She just signed in her sleep, fyi.)

I know me. I know I can do 180 turns emotionally within hours. But something has changed for me on a feelings level that was stuck in my head-only (and, therefore, for me, nearly useless) for a long time. I feel hopeful. I don't feel that "fake it 'til you make it" kind of okay-ness, and I certainly don't feel that glossy-eyed Bright Sided crap that I'll be blogging about soon where it's all "find the good! find the good! find the good!" in the deny-the-pain kind of way.

I feel present, lovable, loved, independent, thoughtful, and generally content. If it stays like this for a while, that wouldn't be bad at all.

Here's a picture of where I'll be in just a few minutes. I'll be listening to the last several minutes of a book about brutality, torture, and "war." These two lovelies will both snuggle with me and totally take over the bed. It's king sized, but I usually end up with much less than a twin sized area for myself. It's worth it.

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