Why I was AWOL for so long

I am sorry to anyone who reads this blog. I have been AWOL for far longer than I anticipated. An entire month now that I look at the blog. That is way bad!

What can I say except sorry?

I went to Cape Town, ostensibly to visit my parents but in actual fact to meet up with some one from TSS. I have not written about him yet because it was so intense and mind-blowing (yes, I was crushing huge from Day 2) that it seemed sacrilegious to do so.

I drove for 22 hours from Natal to the Cape to meet him because he was seriously derailing my life. I would spend up to 6 hours at a time chatting to him on Gmail. We texted endlessly, spoke on the phone for ages. I spent all day thinking about him and all night fantasizing. I was not getting anything in the "real" world done at all and I thought if I met him the crush would subside.

It SO didn't.

Oh dear. I think I fell in love. With some one I met on a skanky, random hook-up site. How insane is that? And I didn't even want to fall in love. That's why I joined this site in the first place!

How weird?

Anyway, that's my excuse for my lack of blogging in the last month. And I do apologize.

And furthermore, now that I have fallen for this guy, I obviously don't have the slightest inclination to carry on with my PhD in Major Whoredom. Kind of a bummer ... but at the same time, maybe I dodged a major bullet there ... or at least an STD or two.

But I do still have a fair bit to share pre-Cape Town. So I will be posting more stuff anon. Don't hold your breath though. The reason being I just got a job. But its only for a conference that will be over before Christmas. So I will only be occupied for the next couple of weeks and after that, hopefully back to pouring my heart out to my blog.

x

"You don't get to choose, you just fall."

Unknown

Losing my virginity

I wonder: If I could lose my virginity all over again and do it with an older, more experienced man, would it be better?

Because the first time totally sucked!

And no, it was not down to the circumstances in which it happened. It could not have been more perfect. All the boxes were ticked:

1. He was a good match, my first - same background, similar senses of humour, etc.
2. We had been going out for two years 
3. He was older than me, not a virgin and therefore - theoretically - more experienced
4. We were totally alone - no parents in the house 
5. It was 100% my decision 

So I had it all planned out, down to the last T - like a military operation. There was champagne (okay, sparkling wine .. but when you’re 20, what’s the difference, right?), candles everywhere, the four poster bed. And we had been doing trial runs all week … well, lots of “dry humping” as his digsmates called it. So I decided that I was now ready for the real thing.

It could not have been more perfect. It WAS perfect … In theory.

Except it was horrible. Terrible!  Despite the candlelight, the roses, the wine  … it totally sucked!  When he finally entered me … I felt like I wanted to … do a No. 2.  Seriously! Embarrassing admission. But that is the Honest-to-God Truth!

And Kim, your question on Yahoo Answers ... yep! That's pretty much what it feels like!

I was so disappointed. I was horrified by the appalling discomfort of it all rather than the huge explosion I was expecting and had heard so much about.  Obviously, I was so pissed off with No. 1 the next day that I refused to talk to him at all, except to give him directions to the Chemist to get me the morning after pill.

Later on, he admitted to me that he thought I was going to break up with him.  I almost did. But my mother always said that you marry the first guy you sleep with … so I carried on deluding myself into believing that one for another couple of years.

Oh well, I shouldn’t beat myself up about it. Like the psychologist Joyce Brothers said:

“Virginity is such a personal thing. You can't judge anyone on it. A lot of young women feel they want to save themselves for the man who they think they'll love forever.”

x

I feel like I was just violated

... in a million different ways.

Yes. I just got my first full Brazilian.

I think I am officially traumatized now.

I thought I was traumatized after reading this:  99 Ways To Impress Your Girlfriend. But the Brazilian wins. Hands down. I mean, I thought my pain threshold was pretty damn high. Until today that is.

And then, as if my day wasn't crazy enough, what with all the ripping (of my delicate flower and innocent mind - yes, some of those 99 things ... let's just say "Blew my mind" would be a major understatement) and screaming and general mental and physical pain, it was not over.

When I got home, I logged onto TSS and found this message from one potential hook-up (Mr. Maybe being on holiday, I thought I should try out some one different or at least broaden my horizons - can't get too used to Mr. M, being married and all that):

"I was going to ask for a photo from you but it actually isnt that important to me. if you just want to share in new experiences for the pure pleasure of sex with someone who feels the same then i dont care what you look like. sounds like bragging i know, but i can make you quiver. Cheers, Phil" 

And I thought I was traumatized before?

I'm off to curl up in a little ball with an Enid Blyton book. And try to forget that today ever happened.

A man will go to war, fight and die for his country. But he won't get a bikini wax. 

Rita Rudner 

(Clever man)

x

Back to the Penis Profile Pic Debate

So in the name of research, I recently started listening to Dan Savage’s podcasts.

I’ve had them on my Apple for over 4 years but never listened to them. I don’t know why. My Gay BFF loves him. Like he would gush and gush about him. He’s the one who made me download those podcasts. And so I humoured him. Kind of like “If I download this stuff, will you just stop talking about him already?” . Oh boy. My loss is all I can say. My loss. That’s 4 years I didn’t have Dan ‘Swoon’ Savage in my life.

I spent this evening studying – by which I mean reading Dan Savage’s columns until my eyes started bleeding. And imagine my joy when I came across the exact same question I was pondering in my Diary a couple of weeks ago. And, in the interest of getting this message across to as many guys with scary profile pics as possible, here it is – or you can go to the entire column here:

Totally Confused Female's question:

I'm wondering whether you have any thoughts on the male tendency when sharing "naughty" photos to go straight for a close-up shot of the penis. Representative Anthony Weiner's tweeting disaster has brought to mind a number of recent cases where high-profile men—such as Brett Favre—sent other women similar shots in an apparent attempt to seduce them. However, the response I've heard from women to such offerings can be summed up as "Ew, yuck!" Do you have any insight on why some men think this sort of overture would work?

Dan Savage's reply:

Some men think this sort of overture works, TCF, because sometimes it works.

... The cock-shot overture doesn't work on most women, I'll grant you, but guys who send cock shots aren't interested in most women. They're interested in the sort of women that this sort of overture works on. And the sort of men who think only with their dicks—and not all men are that sort—figure the quickest way to determine if a woman is that sort of woman is to send the cock shot. And one of the women you talked to about cock shots may have been that sort of woman, TCF, but told you, "Ew, yuck!" because it was clear from the "Ew, yuck!" look on your face that "Ew, yuck!" was what you wanted to hear. 

Gentlemen: The existence of a handful of women who welcome cock shots does not give you license to send cock shots to all women. Cock shots are for women who have expressed a clear and unambiguous interest in receiving cock shots. 

x

“I don't think people should do things that make them miserable. And if being an 

in-shape, sober, monogamous heterosexual makes you miserable, don't do it. And 

if being an in-shape, sober, monogamous heterosexual makes you happy, do it.” 

Dan Savage

Ethical Slut. An oxymoron? Hardly …

“An oxymoron, you say? Hardly. It's one thing to 
be a slut and another thing to be ethical.”

I am seriously thinking about buying this book: The Ethical Slut: A Practical Guide to Polyamory, Open Relationships & Other Adventures by Dossie Easton and Catherine Liszt. 

Basically, it’s all about how you can live your life in an honest and open way with more than one lover at the same time.

I so have to buy it! I mean it has chapters on just about everything, from how to find and keep partners, to tips on handling scheduling with various partners (how incredibly Martha Stewart and grown up!) to (get this!) “Etiquette for group sexual encounters”. (I know Mum would approve. She is always so worried about what other people think and the way my sisters and I conduct ourselves in public.). 

Now tell me this does not sound like the best book ever!

The term “slut” is reclaimed from its slang meaning and is seen “as a term of approval, even endearment. To us, a slut is a person of any gender who has the courage to lead life according to the radical proposition that sex is nice and pleasure is good for you”.

How cool? I think this is my kind of book!

“We believe that it is fundamentally a radical political act to deprivatize sex. So much oppression in our culture is based on shame about sex: the oppression of women, of cultural minorities, oppression in the name of the (presumably asexual) family, oppression of sexual minorities. We are all oppressed. We have all been taught, one way or another, that our desires, our bodies, our sexualities, are shameful. What better way to defeat oppression than to get together in communities and celebrate the wonders of sex?

... It is amazing to us to think ... that most people in our culture have never had a chance to watch another person enjoy sex. No wonder we worry so much about our appearance.”

I have a feeling that The Ethical Slut could be my own personal bible in this whole quest of mine. And at the very least, a life line. These last couple of weeks I have had moments of crippling guilt brought on by my conditioning: the Very Christian, Very Moralistic, Very Proper Ideals of my family, my class and my surroundings (Yes, it IS still a total mind fuck being back here in this constricting society after so many years of relative freedom and maturity of Continental Europe).

And I so don’t want to look back and admit that I threw this whole experiment out the window for fear of going to Hell for it!

I don’t, however, think that I should add this particular book to my Wish List on Amazon. Might make for some awkward looks from the family at Christmas when we open our presents.

x

"Easy": Is there, we wonder, some value in being difficult?

The Ethical Slut

I'm attracted to you. Are you attracted to me?

Today when I opened my Inbox on TSS, I found this message from Donavin, 35:

SUBJECT: Contact me

I'm attracted to you. Are you attracted to me?

Wildly, Donavin with an ‘i’. Wildly! Hold me back. I can barely contain my attraction! I will contact you right now this very instant.

Seriously? I mean seriously? DonavIn has only a picture of my toes and one of my upper (nose to belly button) bikini-clad torso to go on when it comes to gauging his attraction to me. And his photo could be anyone really. He is standing next to a fishing boat. And you can see more of the boat than him in the photo. Is he perhaps secretly hoping that I have a penchant for men with boats? Who the hell knows? Maybe this line's worked for him before.

I honestly don't know. Why am I even trying to figure it out?

My head hurts.

Oh well. Good to know that there are others out there who have a harder time than me with this whole online hook-up thing. Like I just read this pretty hysterical take on meeting people online in Dave's blog in Australia: Internet Dating on the Dole.

Have a read. I giggled throughout.

And Tip #07 (Profile Photos Should Frame the Face in a Natural Demeanour) from Dave certainly gave me such a simple yet brilliant summary of what Donavin's profile shot might be all about:

"... the holiday photo capturing an adventurous or spontaneous spirit, but taken from across the road ... or obscured by extreme clothing and a safety helmet ... because of distance, you could be suggesting, ‘I look like a minga but I’m fucking fit.’ "

So maybe its as simple as that: Donavin is a total minga ... but fucking fit. 

It really is so good I just have to reblog a few more of his thoughts on profile pics here in case you don't read the entire post:

"I was initially shocked by the general lack of concern about appearance on internet dating sites. Part of me was quietly impressed by this. In a world of narcissism, Photoshop, digital filters, cosmetics and fashion; where much of what surrounds us is not what it seems, it was a pleasant surprise. 

... I wondered if there was an unspoken directive by the majority of the Internet dating community to retain truthful representations to avoid future disappointments ... Or perhaps people just didn’t give a shit, because so many chicks’ photo galleries exhibited an array of bad or unhelpful pictures. 

Some women have simply stood in from of a mirror with a digital camera. I mean just because you’re out of love doesn’t mean you should suggest you’re out of friends as well. Even if you are, digital cameras have timers. And there is plenty household furniture to place a camera on for an authentic mise-en-scéne image. 

Equally tragic are profiles that think more is better and photo galleries inevitably reach the clubbing snap where the offender is clearly boiled and wrapped around a bottle of booze with one eye gone to the shops while the other one is left waiting. 

I don’t mean to sound hypocritical. I love a bloody drink ... but there are possibly more charming ways than a greased up mobile phone photo to express how much you enjoy life." 

Oh wow! He does have a way with words. I shouldn't reblog his stuff anymore. I feel rather inferior by comparison.

I'm going drinking now. I think I need it.

x

"I got to thinking about relationships and partial lobotomies: two seemingly different 

ideas that might just be perfect together — like chocolate and peanut butter."

Carrie Bradshaw, SATC

Visual stimulation: not just a guy thing

So yesterday evening, I had my second visit from Mr. Maybe.

Okay, let’s not call him Mr. Maybe anymore. After all, that so went out the window the minute he lowered his sexy mouth onto me at the dam the other day.  What to rename him? Well, he has a certain tattoo on his chest and because of what it is and because of the way he is built (big, strong, but slightly chunky), lets call him The Bull (not very subtle I know, but it’s the best I can come up with at 2 a.m.).

And this time, he so didn’t lie. The first time, he promised me that I would hardly be able to walk when he was done with me. Not so. I could walk just fine. But today? Let’s just say it hurts like hell on the insides of my thighs when I try to dance or do stretches.

But I discovered something quite incredible since meeting up with The Bull: having a lover is amazing in that there are none of the normal constraints of a conventional relationship. I don’t have to worry about him respecting me or even liking me. So I can be as dirty and twisted in the bedroom as I want. I could play out my wildest fantasies and there is no way he will judge me. Worship me, more like it! And hopefully also get off even more courtesy of my twisted hidden desires! It is so uninhibiting!

Not that I have gotten to that point, mind you. But just the realization, that’s good enough for me right now.

Last night was so good. We were in the bedroom and there is a huge mirror next to my bed so if I looked over, I could see everything. I didn't want to blatantly stare so just a glimpse at our reflections here and there - tres sexy!

But something was missing … I didn’t look exactly like the dirty mistress. I looked like me, just a bit more flushed and mussed up than normal.

I must get some dirty, sexy lingerie now. I did log onto Victoria’s Secret yesterday. OMG. Those girls are so hot!

Hmmmm, perhaps time to get a job so I can start using my credit card again.

x

“Sex is as important as eating or drinking and we ought to allow the one appetite 

to be satisfied with as little restraint or false modesty as the other.”

Marquis De Sade