In my 40s:
I still have dreams, I just don't believe in them anymore.
I can still "Get Down", I just can't get back up.
And I can still "Go Down", I just can't decide if that's a pubic hair or a chin whisker in my mouth when I am done.
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Monday, August 6, 2012
I AM A REAL BITCH
Or at least, I definitely come off as a real bitch. Because this is the second time I have actually met a man who let me know that he enjoys watching his girlfriends have sex with a dog. And I don't mean a dog as in, "He is such an ugly guy, he is a dog". I mean a real bona fide FIDO Canis familiaris that you get from a shelter! Augh! I love animals, which is probably why I DON'T want to have sex with them! OMG! Bestiality. It is probably illegal for a good reason? Turns out several good reasons. Besides health concerns, the animal cannot "consent", and therefore it is considered "animal cruelty".
I actually got pictures sent to my inbox. I now have pictures of women actually having sex with dogs. I am a little nervous. Is having pictures of bestiality illegal, too? I don't know. I. Just. Don't. Know.
My first question to him was (rhetorically, of course): How do you get the dog to wear a condom? Well obviously you CAN'T!!!! So my next question is: How do you avoid getting a disease from having sex with an animal??? Well, you CAN'T. This guy told me you can't get a sexually transmitted disease from having sex with a dog, but, the truth is you can get lots of icky worms, bacteria, and viruses. But I like being backed up with the facts so I immediately text my friend who works at the CDC. Her husband of course gets the text. Nice. But eventually he realizes it is me (of course) and she gets my text and sends me a link and some facts.
Here is an interesting article I found online at http://goaskalice.columbia.edu/bestiality about it:
Alice,
I have read about men and women having sex with animals, e.g., dogs (Women On Top, by Nancy Friday, Simon & Schuster, 1991). Apart from it being against the law (I think), are there medical reasons why this is not a good idea? For example, are there STDs that can be passed from animals to humans? Are there immunological consequences from depositing sperm into the vagina of another species? Is this kind of sex common?
— Sheep herder
I swear I am an idiot magnet. But, at least I can say that my life is interesting and I am definitely NOT bored!
I actually got pictures sent to my inbox. I now have pictures of women actually having sex with dogs. I am a little nervous. Is having pictures of bestiality illegal, too? I don't know. I. Just. Don't. Know.
My first question to him was (rhetorically, of course): How do you get the dog to wear a condom? Well obviously you CAN'T!!!! So my next question is: How do you avoid getting a disease from having sex with an animal??? Well, you CAN'T. This guy told me you can't get a sexually transmitted disease from having sex with a dog, but, the truth is you can get lots of icky worms, bacteria, and viruses. But I like being backed up with the facts so I immediately text my friend who works at the CDC. Her husband of course gets the text. Nice. But eventually he realizes it is me (of course) and she gets my text and sends me a link and some facts.
Here is an interesting article I found online at http://goaskalice.columbia.edu/bestiality about it:
Alice,
I have read about men and women having sex with animals, e.g., dogs (Women On Top, by Nancy Friday, Simon & Schuster, 1991). Apart from it being against the law (I think), are there medical reasons why this is not a good idea? For example, are there STDs that can be passed from animals to humans? Are there immunological consequences from depositing sperm into the vagina of another species? Is this kind of sex common?
— Sheep herder
Dear Sheep herder,
Humans having sex with animals, otherwise called bestiality or zoophilia, is believed to be fairly uncommon, but because of the stigmatization associated with this behavior, research and data is limited. Zoophilia is sometimes distinguished from bestiality as incorporating a relationship or emotional attachment with an animal, in addition to sexual contact.
Although data is scarce, we do know that having sex with animals may transmit infections. Contact with animals can put the person at risk for worms, fleas, ticks, salmonella, campylobacteriosis, scabies, and possibly viruses. For more information, see the related Q&As below.
Human relationships with animals have been a topic of interest for people for hundreds of years. Tales of human-animal sexual contact can be found throughout ancient folklore and mythology. A good example is the story of Zeus, who in the form of a swan, had sexual intercourse with Leda, the queen of Sparta. William Butler Yeats used this story as background for a famous poem. Greek and
Roman mythology have portrayed females having sexual relationships with bears, apes, bulls, goats, horses, wolves, snakes, and crocodiles. Humans have enjoyed rich sexual fantasies throughout the ages, sometimes including the fantastic and the unreal. That said, consider this quote from poet Octavio Paz in his essay At Table and In Bed, on the nature of sexuality, "Eroticism is a representation, a ceremony of transfiguration: men and women make love like lions, eagles, doves, or praying mantises; neither lions nor praying mantises make love like human beings. We humans see ourselves in animals; animals do not see themselves in humans."
The research that does exist suggests that most people who have sex with animals are men, but there have been some documented cases of women caressing and stimulating animals in an attempt to insert the penis of a dog or horse into their vagina. In either case, the frequency of human-animal sexual contact is believed to be low, and is believed to have decreased along with the decline in rural farm areas in the U.S.
Alfred Kinsey's comprehensive (though dated) studies of sexuality are some of the only data we have on bestiality. After conducting 6000 exhaustive interviews with participants on their sexual histories, Kinsey published his findings in 1953, which included this data on zoophilia:
Historically, taboos against human-animal contact have been quite severe. In 1953, 49 U.S. states and territories regarded bestiality as a felony or its equivalent. Many such laws remain to this day, although enforcement varies. In addition to the legal and health concerns, sexual contact with animals is usually considered a form of animal cruelty because it can seriously injure the animal, and the animal does not have the capacity to "give consent." While curiosity about sexual contact with animals may be normal, and people may develop emotional bonds with with pets or other animals, given these risks and concerns, it's probably best for zoophilia to remain within the realms of fantasy rather than practice.
Humans having sex with animals, otherwise called bestiality or zoophilia, is believed to be fairly uncommon, but because of the stigmatization associated with this behavior, research and data is limited. Zoophilia is sometimes distinguished from bestiality as incorporating a relationship or emotional attachment with an animal, in addition to sexual contact.
Although data is scarce, we do know that having sex with animals may transmit infections. Contact with animals can put the person at risk for worms, fleas, ticks, salmonella, campylobacteriosis, scabies, and possibly viruses. For more information, see the related Q&As below.
Human relationships with animals have been a topic of interest for people for hundreds of years. Tales of human-animal sexual contact can be found throughout ancient folklore and mythology. A good example is the story of Zeus, who in the form of a swan, had sexual intercourse with Leda, the queen of Sparta. William Butler Yeats used this story as background for a famous poem. Greek and
Roman mythology have portrayed females having sexual relationships with bears, apes, bulls, goats, horses, wolves, snakes, and crocodiles. Humans have enjoyed rich sexual fantasies throughout the ages, sometimes including the fantastic and the unreal. That said, consider this quote from poet Octavio Paz in his essay At Table and In Bed, on the nature of sexuality, "Eroticism is a representation, a ceremony of transfiguration: men and women make love like lions, eagles, doves, or praying mantises; neither lions nor praying mantises make love like human beings. We humans see ourselves in animals; animals do not see themselves in humans."
The research that does exist suggests that most people who have sex with animals are men, but there have been some documented cases of women caressing and stimulating animals in an attempt to insert the penis of a dog or horse into their vagina. In either case, the frequency of human-animal sexual contact is believed to be low, and is believed to have decreased along with the decline in rural farm areas in the U.S.
Alfred Kinsey's comprehensive (though dated) studies of sexuality are some of the only data we have on bestiality. After conducting 6000 exhaustive interviews with participants on their sexual histories, Kinsey published his findings in 1953, which included this data on zoophilia:
- Eight percent of men and four percent of women reported having has a sexual experience with animals at some point in their lives
- For women, the animals involved were most commonly dogs and cats, and the sexual activities most often reported were general body contacts with the animals, and cunnilingus performed by animals
- Female intercourse with an animal was rarely reported
- Eight percent of men brought themselves to orgasm with an animal
Historically, taboos against human-animal contact have been quite severe. In 1953, 49 U.S. states and territories regarded bestiality as a felony or its equivalent. Many such laws remain to this day, although enforcement varies. In addition to the legal and health concerns, sexual contact with animals is usually considered a form of animal cruelty because it can seriously injure the animal, and the animal does not have the capacity to "give consent." While curiosity about sexual contact with animals may be normal, and people may develop emotional bonds with with pets or other animals, given these risks and concerns, it's probably best for zoophilia to remain within the realms of fantasy rather than practice.
I swear I am an idiot magnet. But, at least I can say that my life is interesting and I am definitely NOT bored!
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
The Difference Between Men My Age and Younger Men
It is a very strange place to be when I find myself equally legally and likely to be able to chose to be with men my age, but also as much older or younger as 20 years or so. However, being with a man who is 20 years my senior makes me feel like I am dating my father, and dating men 20 years my junior makes me feel like I am dating my son. Equally awkward, at best.
Generally I am finding that socially and psychologically I actually prefer men my age. That is, I feel that I find commonality in regards to life experiences, mental attitude, and perspective. We have things in common such as aging parents, career issues, and what is important in life. I am sexually attracted to men my age, too. However, I am finding that actually wanting to have sex with men my age is a bit trying. The good thing is that they have had enough time and experience to know what they are doing and what they like. The bad part is that they have gotten very comfortable with what they are familiar with and can be close-minded and therefore limited.
There is still nothing more sexually appealing to me than the hot, sexy, virile body of a young male, naturally buff and sleek and built for speed. They are the fillet mignon in the feast of sexuality. However, they can be quite silly and I don't feel comfortable having too much conversation with them, as their priorities and perspectives are quite different than mine, and I find the conversations to be sophomoric and numbing. If they can just keep their zippers open and their mouths shut...
When it comes down to attitudes towards sex however, this is what I have run across (and on several occasions, enough for me to have developed a sense of predictability about it):
Men my age generally suck when it comes to sex. They are close minded and inflexible. They will "say" that they want a woman to tell them what she wants, and they "say" that they want to please a woman sexually, but obviously, this is far from the truth. I have found that if I try to tell a man my age what I prefer or want, and if what I want is outside the range of their already established repertoire, they balk. The typical responses I hear include statements such as:
"That is weird, there is something wrong with you!"
"No, I don't do that. I am not into that."
"I don't like being told what to do. I feel like I am following a script!"
Younger men on the other hand are the BOMB! They are so very horny, and so very excited, that they are just grateful beyond belief to be having sex at all. They almost always simply say, "OK!"
Younger men ARE the bomb! They are very open minded, willing to do just about anything, and truly DO want to please. They do not give me a ration of reasons why they couldn't or shouldn't or won't do anything. THEY JUST DO IT.
*sigh* If I could just get over that icky feeling like I am screwing someone who could be my child, I would be all set.
Generally I am finding that socially and psychologically I actually prefer men my age. That is, I feel that I find commonality in regards to life experiences, mental attitude, and perspective. We have things in common such as aging parents, career issues, and what is important in life. I am sexually attracted to men my age, too. However, I am finding that actually wanting to have sex with men my age is a bit trying. The good thing is that they have had enough time and experience to know what they are doing and what they like. The bad part is that they have gotten very comfortable with what they are familiar with and can be close-minded and therefore limited.
There is still nothing more sexually appealing to me than the hot, sexy, virile body of a young male, naturally buff and sleek and built for speed. They are the fillet mignon in the feast of sexuality. However, they can be quite silly and I don't feel comfortable having too much conversation with them, as their priorities and perspectives are quite different than mine, and I find the conversations to be sophomoric and numbing. If they can just keep their zippers open and their mouths shut...
When it comes down to attitudes towards sex however, this is what I have run across (and on several occasions, enough for me to have developed a sense of predictability about it):
Men my age generally suck when it comes to sex. They are close minded and inflexible. They will "say" that they want a woman to tell them what she wants, and they "say" that they want to please a woman sexually, but obviously, this is far from the truth. I have found that if I try to tell a man my age what I prefer or want, and if what I want is outside the range of their already established repertoire, they balk. The typical responses I hear include statements such as:
"That is weird, there is something wrong with you!"
"No, I don't do that. I am not into that."
"I don't like being told what to do. I feel like I am following a script!"
Younger men on the other hand are the BOMB! They are so very horny, and so very excited, that they are just grateful beyond belief to be having sex at all. They almost always simply say, "OK!"
Younger men ARE the bomb! They are very open minded, willing to do just about anything, and truly DO want to please. They do not give me a ration of reasons why they couldn't or shouldn't or won't do anything. THEY JUST DO IT.
*sigh* If I could just get over that icky feeling like I am screwing someone who could be my child, I would be all set.
Monday, June 25, 2012
The Difference Between Musicians and Dancers
By a bizarre quirk of events I ended up at a small Persian restaurant last Friday night. I got to dance for the band and do a performance, which was wonderful. After all, that is what most belly dancers who perform are trained to do: dance with a live band. There really is nothing short of heaven for those of us who truly love it. I totally understand therefore the competition between dancers to get these precious moments to perform with a live band in public.
I was not paid for my impromptu performance, nor for my willingness to be photographed for the restaurants' ad. I did it for the opportunity to perform and for the free advertisement it gave me. That night, I gave away a handful of business cards, and was solicited for a birthday party the following week. So, I may get private gigs from my efforts as well, which will always be far more lucrative than the amount of cash the restaurant would have been willing to pay me, had they been willing to. So for me, it was a worthwhile endeavor.
For a while it seems that although performance opportunities for both musicians and dancers in general was tough, there still seemed to be more opportunities for musicians than dancers. After all, dancers can always perform to canned music, and we sometimes create our own events such as haflis and fundraisers, for our own opportunities to perform, but these are not paid opportunities. Speaking of paid opportunities, there have always been more for bands than dancers because some places and events will have music without necessarily having a dancer. However, after my conversation with the musicians last Friday night, my suspicion that it was now equally difficult for musicians as well was substantiated by the remarks made by the guys in the band.
I host student showcases usually a couple of times a year for myself, my students and my classes to perform and demonstrate our learning and skills. After hearing the guys in the band lament about how there are no longer enough places or opportunities for them to perform anymore, and how much this saddened and frustrated them, I offered them the opportunity to come and perform for me and my girls at my next upcoming showcase. Of course, I cannot afford to pay them, but, it was an opportunity for them to perform, so I offered.
They looked at me with the eyes of death.
This is the difference between musicians and dancers: dancers are expected to be willing to dance for little or nothing because there are so many more of us than there are opportunities for us, and that we are very eager and grateful for any opportunity to dance and the benefits of the free advertising it grants us. Musicians, on the other hand, will be willing to suffer and languish without the performance opportunity because they will refuse to perform without reasonable pay for any gig.
I was not paid for my impromptu performance, nor for my willingness to be photographed for the restaurants' ad. I did it for the opportunity to perform and for the free advertisement it gave me. That night, I gave away a handful of business cards, and was solicited for a birthday party the following week. So, I may get private gigs from my efforts as well, which will always be far more lucrative than the amount of cash the restaurant would have been willing to pay me, had they been willing to. So for me, it was a worthwhile endeavor.
For a while it seems that although performance opportunities for both musicians and dancers in general was tough, there still seemed to be more opportunities for musicians than dancers. After all, dancers can always perform to canned music, and we sometimes create our own events such as haflis and fundraisers, for our own opportunities to perform, but these are not paid opportunities. Speaking of paid opportunities, there have always been more for bands than dancers because some places and events will have music without necessarily having a dancer. However, after my conversation with the musicians last Friday night, my suspicion that it was now equally difficult for musicians as well was substantiated by the remarks made by the guys in the band.
I host student showcases usually a couple of times a year for myself, my students and my classes to perform and demonstrate our learning and skills. After hearing the guys in the band lament about how there are no longer enough places or opportunities for them to perform anymore, and how much this saddened and frustrated them, I offered them the opportunity to come and perform for me and my girls at my next upcoming showcase. Of course, I cannot afford to pay them, but, it was an opportunity for them to perform, so I offered.
They looked at me with the eyes of death.
This is the difference between musicians and dancers: dancers are expected to be willing to dance for little or nothing because there are so many more of us than there are opportunities for us, and that we are very eager and grateful for any opportunity to dance and the benefits of the free advertising it grants us. Musicians, on the other hand, will be willing to suffer and languish without the performance opportunity because they will refuse to perform without reasonable pay for any gig.
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Am I The Only Person Who Paid Attention In Sex Ed?
There are some things I simply can't wrap my head around. One of them is the phenomena where men will willingly wear a condom for sexual intercourse, but not for fellatio. For some bizarre reason, people seem to be under the false assumption that sexually transmittable diseases are either NOT transmittable via oral sex, or else, the chances are so slim, that they don't merit the use of a condom or a dental dam (if you know what one is!).
Almost all the known sexually transmitted diseases are also transferable via oral sex. Not all show symptoms and some such as gonorreah are particularly difficult to treat. Some like chlamydia are very common. Women are more suseptible than men. However, men are particularly suseptable to nongonococcal urethritis (NGU). Systemic diseases such as syphillis are equally contageous ia intercourse or orally, regardless of how orginally contracted.
That being the case, if we are using condoms for safe sex practices, why wouldn't we use them for oral sex as well? If you would use a condom with a prostitute for oral sex, why wouldn't you extend that same practice, in the name of safety, to a playmate, lover, or friend?
Thank God they make flavored condoms!
Almost all the known sexually transmitted diseases are also transferable via oral sex. Not all show symptoms and some such as gonorreah are particularly difficult to treat. Some like chlamydia are very common. Women are more suseptible than men. However, men are particularly suseptable to nongonococcal urethritis (NGU). Systemic diseases such as syphillis are equally contageous ia intercourse or orally, regardless of how orginally contracted.
That being the case, if we are using condoms for safe sex practices, why wouldn't we use them for oral sex as well? If you would use a condom with a prostitute for oral sex, why wouldn't you extend that same practice, in the name of safety, to a playmate, lover, or friend?
Thank God they make flavored condoms!
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Foot Fetish Friend
A few weeks ago I went to lunch with a friend to a local restaurant. As usual, I was pretty casually dressed. Being a dance instructor, I am almost always in comfy dance clothes: leggings, warm-ups, sneakers, no make-up, hair up, and on the grunge side. I don't mind. I am not out for anything but lunch with a friend. Or so I think...
Our waiter was typical: I hadn't noticed anything unusual except that he happened to be a "he" and he was an attractive guy about my age. I guess I must have flirted a little, because I think that when he asked me if he could wrap up my leftovers, I recall saying something like, "Sure, and you can wrap it up with love," or something silly like that. Anyhow, I thought it was meaningless until I got home and saw that he had written his name and phone number on the cover of my take out box! Oh my!
I was flattered, but nervous. I am actually a bit shy and self conscious. So, I gathered up my guts and figured I HAD to contact him! It was cute and sweet, I thought, to be so courageous and take the chance, and he had liked me enough in spite of all my grunge, to give me his name and number, after all. The least I could do was call. But I was shy and nervous, so I texted the number. I got no response. So, maybe he doesn't text? I tried to call, but I didn't leave a message. It was a prerecorded message. Maybe the number was wrong? I threw the box away. It was in the hands of fate now. I tried. Maybe he would see my number and call me back. It didn't happen. I let it go.
A couple of weeks after that I ended up going back to the same restaurant with a different friend. The same waiter guy was there. He wasn't our waiter, but he was there. I told my friend about what had happened with the number. She said, "Well, now you have to give him YOUR number!" I had two scotches, found a pen and paper, and by the end of the night, I made sure he had it. I was nervous and giggly. I figured, what the heck, at least I have to try! Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
The very next night I get a text message from him. OMG I am pleasantly surprised! For two hours we text. This is how the conversation went:
The first few questions are normal. Are you single? Where are you from? How old are you? Do you have any kids? Etc. Etc. Then the first red flag: He asks me, "Do you like foot massages?" and I am like, OMG! Is this a sexual reference ALREADY? Or is he just trying to feel me out? Or appeal to my feminine persuasions? I DON'T KNOW! So, I have to think of a crafty response. Something that is appropriate but neither sexually leading nor dismissive. I think of the perfect response. I say something like, "It depends on the who, the what, the where, the when, and the why". I am so sick of sexually inappropriate solicitations from men, but I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, just in case (this is where I always go wrong, BTW).
He responds with "Good answer". I think "FHEW"! to myself. We go back to asking each other appropriate normal preliminary questions. After a few normal questions, he does it again. He says to me, "I'm bored. Let's hook up now." I laugh "hahaha" and try to steer the conversation back to normal. It doesn't work. I ask him questions about his life. He tells me I am being too personal. He asks me, "Are you a prude, or do you like to fool around?" and I am thinking, like, what the fuck does THAT mean? And why haven't I even been offered a drink before being subjected to this level of conversation? Where is my fucking DATE?
Then I figure, fuck it, if he is all about the "hooking up" and asking inappropriate questions, then I will just be frank too. So I ask him, so what's up with the foot massage? Is that a fetish? He says yes. I ask him exactly what does he want to do. He says, " Suck on your toes, foot job (I can only imagine) and cum on your soles." I think "EWWWW" and I hope this is happening somewhere near a basin of warm sudsy water so that I can wash my feet and not have to walk around with sticky soles! UGH!!!
Needless to say, we haven't spoke again since. He probably thinks I am a prude, which is ironic because frankly, his goofy foot fetish is NOTHING compared to what I am into and sexually I know for a fact that I could scare the living shit out of him in 10 seconds flat with my freak flag if I wanted to. But, I don't want to. It is not worth it to me, because he is clearly an asshole and doesn't deserve to know anything interesting about me. He doesn't even want to know anything about me, and he never will. I know more about him than he will even know about me.
My question is this: Do I dare to go back to this restaurant? Will I get spit in my food for not letting him cum on my feet? Should I NOT order the fillet of sole?
It's kinda too bad really. If he had just been a little more charming, I would probably have entertained his fetish. After all, I do have the perfect feet. They are ugly, banged up dancers feet, but they are strong and flexible, too!
The thing is that it's not that I am opposed, or would always reject the idea, of having a purely sexual relationship, whether short term, long term, or one night. It is more along the lines of the fact that I really want and need to feel safe, that I like and will continue to like the person I am with, before and after, and that the person is not an asshole. I want some time and effort getting to know the person, and to know that I am viewed as a person, and not simply as some human blow up doll or fleshy substitution. If the man is charming and makes the effort, I will maybe (and I have in the past) be willing to at least to consider it. It is more the lack of charm and effort. Without it, I just feel plain flat and uninterested and totally turned off. I am not sure if I am making any sense...
Our waiter was typical: I hadn't noticed anything unusual except that he happened to be a "he" and he was an attractive guy about my age. I guess I must have flirted a little, because I think that when he asked me if he could wrap up my leftovers, I recall saying something like, "Sure, and you can wrap it up with love," or something silly like that. Anyhow, I thought it was meaningless until I got home and saw that he had written his name and phone number on the cover of my take out box! Oh my!
I was flattered, but nervous. I am actually a bit shy and self conscious. So, I gathered up my guts and figured I HAD to contact him! It was cute and sweet, I thought, to be so courageous and take the chance, and he had liked me enough in spite of all my grunge, to give me his name and number, after all. The least I could do was call. But I was shy and nervous, so I texted the number. I got no response. So, maybe he doesn't text? I tried to call, but I didn't leave a message. It was a prerecorded message. Maybe the number was wrong? I threw the box away. It was in the hands of fate now. I tried. Maybe he would see my number and call me back. It didn't happen. I let it go.
A couple of weeks after that I ended up going back to the same restaurant with a different friend. The same waiter guy was there. He wasn't our waiter, but he was there. I told my friend about what had happened with the number. She said, "Well, now you have to give him YOUR number!" I had two scotches, found a pen and paper, and by the end of the night, I made sure he had it. I was nervous and giggly. I figured, what the heck, at least I have to try! Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?
The very next night I get a text message from him. OMG I am pleasantly surprised! For two hours we text. This is how the conversation went:
The first few questions are normal. Are you single? Where are you from? How old are you? Do you have any kids? Etc. Etc. Then the first red flag: He asks me, "Do you like foot massages?" and I am like, OMG! Is this a sexual reference ALREADY? Or is he just trying to feel me out? Or appeal to my feminine persuasions? I DON'T KNOW! So, I have to think of a crafty response. Something that is appropriate but neither sexually leading nor dismissive. I think of the perfect response. I say something like, "It depends on the who, the what, the where, the when, and the why". I am so sick of sexually inappropriate solicitations from men, but I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, just in case (this is where I always go wrong, BTW).
He responds with "Good answer". I think "FHEW"! to myself. We go back to asking each other appropriate normal preliminary questions. After a few normal questions, he does it again. He says to me, "I'm bored. Let's hook up now." I laugh "hahaha" and try to steer the conversation back to normal. It doesn't work. I ask him questions about his life. He tells me I am being too personal. He asks me, "Are you a prude, or do you like to fool around?" and I am thinking, like, what the fuck does THAT mean? And why haven't I even been offered a drink before being subjected to this level of conversation? Where is my fucking DATE?
Then I figure, fuck it, if he is all about the "hooking up" and asking inappropriate questions, then I will just be frank too. So I ask him, so what's up with the foot massage? Is that a fetish? He says yes. I ask him exactly what does he want to do. He says, " Suck on your toes, foot job (I can only imagine) and cum on your soles." I think "EWWWW" and I hope this is happening somewhere near a basin of warm sudsy water so that I can wash my feet and not have to walk around with sticky soles! UGH!!!
Needless to say, we haven't spoke again since. He probably thinks I am a prude, which is ironic because frankly, his goofy foot fetish is NOTHING compared to what I am into and sexually I know for a fact that I could scare the living shit out of him in 10 seconds flat with my freak flag if I wanted to. But, I don't want to. It is not worth it to me, because he is clearly an asshole and doesn't deserve to know anything interesting about me. He doesn't even want to know anything about me, and he never will. I know more about him than he will even know about me.
My question is this: Do I dare to go back to this restaurant? Will I get spit in my food for not letting him cum on my feet? Should I NOT order the fillet of sole?
It's kinda too bad really. If he had just been a little more charming, I would probably have entertained his fetish. After all, I do have the perfect feet. They are ugly, banged up dancers feet, but they are strong and flexible, too!
The thing is that it's not that I am opposed, or would always reject the idea, of having a purely sexual relationship, whether short term, long term, or one night. It is more along the lines of the fact that I really want and need to feel safe, that I like and will continue to like the person I am with, before and after, and that the person is not an asshole. I want some time and effort getting to know the person, and to know that I am viewed as a person, and not simply as some human blow up doll or fleshy substitution. If the man is charming and makes the effort, I will maybe (and I have in the past) be willing to at least to consider it. It is more the lack of charm and effort. Without it, I just feel plain flat and uninterested and totally turned off. I am not sure if I am making any sense...
Letting Go Without The Claw Marks
The truth is that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and envy the sincerest proof of success. Humans are also philosophically myopic. That is, things seem to look better from a distance. No wonder then that intimacy, the act of closeness, makes us wary and afraid. Who wants to see all the imperfections, the flaws, the weaknesses and inconsistencies that plague and marr our human nature and form?
Some of the most difficult students have been the ones who simply do not know when to leave me as their teacher. There are so many ways to say goodbye. For example, they could say something like "Hey, it was great, but I am ready to move on. Thanks so much and see you around!", or they could just simply disappear. I actually am OK with them just disappearing. I am not stupid and I have many friends in the dance community. I know where students go when they leave me, and I am OK with that.
What is really upsetting is when they can't let go without leaving the claw marks. Invariably, there are always people who just don't know how to say goodbye gracefully. Perhaps they feel awkward saying goodbye at all, because they feel it might be interpreted on my behalf as a rejection and upset me, or as a flaw on their behalf, that they have grown bored or tired of me. The fact of the matter is that I expect them to leave me. It is their "job" as students to take what they want, and to go on to do more, other, and better, with other people and in other places. I am sad, but more so, I am pleased for them, and happy, and proud to have had any affiliation or affect on them as dancers.
Inevitably, those students are the few who hurt me the most because in their effort to leave and move on, seem to be inconsolably resigned to find a way to vilanize me as an excuse to get away. Somehow, they have to pick a fight or conjure an imagined slight to justify their bad behaviour, which in turn, is their desperate attempt to assign blame and misdirect anger. I am blessed in that out of the hundreds of students who have come and passed through my classes, only a very few, a mere handful, literally 5 or 6, have succumbed to such a pitiful means of escape.
One particular student was initially so enamoured of me, or shall I say, what and who she imagined me to be, that she actually moved her home to my town to live closer and make it easier to take classes with me. One day, she showed up to class with a black wig. She so fell in love with me, or her imagined version of me, that she imitated me to the point that when she performed, she danced just like me, and people would comment to me about the intensity of the similarity. She stayed with me far longer than she should have, to the point where I felt compelled to tell her that she really needed to study with others and become her own dancer. No matter how flattering it was to be so grossly imitated and to be such an intense object of her obsession, I intuitively and intelligently knew that it was not behoving to either of us for her to be thusly. After all, even a great copy, in the end, is really only a copy, and it is so much better to be your own imperfect original you, than to be a mere "perfect" copy of someone else.
I was very frank and firm, but tried also to be her friend, but it was fated to end badly and impossible to salvage. In the end, she simply ended up hating me. It was as though she wanted to be like me, but then, she wanted to BE me, and there wasn't any room for another me, so she had to try to destroy me, to get me out of her way, so that she could do what I did, and have what I had. Before, we were always together and people thought we were close. Now when people ask her about me, she tells them that she doesn't know me, as thought I no longer exist for her. This was a very extreme case, and I haven't again and hope not ever to experience it again. But, it is very typical for someone experiencing extreme obsession, much like in the movie, "Single White Female".
The beauty of the dance, the feminist spiritualism, and the women-centric bonding happens mostly when there is no room for competition. At first, it looks so great to be a belly dancer! Especially when one is new, and fresh, and not yet indoctrinated. How supportive and friendly and accepting and warm we all look at first, but from a distance, and with fresh eyes. That is, until the student builds strength and skill and confidence, and after experiencing the thrill and ego stroking effect of performing, and being told how talented and beautiful she is, and how much she wants to believe this, needs to believe this, insists on believing this! And then she wants more, starts to see that she can be more, have more, do more. And this is when the trouble begins. The student starts to see herself as better and is feeling that she is better and entitled to better, and to more. And the student begins to get into a competitive mode with other students, and then with other dancers, and with her instructors. It is hard to be friends with someone with whom you believe to be in competition with you. So, something has to go, and the need for the ego is greater than the need for the friendship. So, the friendship and good will is sacrificed in the name of the ego, and for that which feeds the ego.
I understand this phenomenon. I don't like it, but I understand it, and I accept it. It is hard to throw stones at the castle, when one lives in the castle.
Some of the most difficult students have been the ones who simply do not know when to leave me as their teacher. There are so many ways to say goodbye. For example, they could say something like "Hey, it was great, but I am ready to move on. Thanks so much and see you around!", or they could just simply disappear. I actually am OK with them just disappearing. I am not stupid and I have many friends in the dance community. I know where students go when they leave me, and I am OK with that.
What is really upsetting is when they can't let go without leaving the claw marks. Invariably, there are always people who just don't know how to say goodbye gracefully. Perhaps they feel awkward saying goodbye at all, because they feel it might be interpreted on my behalf as a rejection and upset me, or as a flaw on their behalf, that they have grown bored or tired of me. The fact of the matter is that I expect them to leave me. It is their "job" as students to take what they want, and to go on to do more, other, and better, with other people and in other places. I am sad, but more so, I am pleased for them, and happy, and proud to have had any affiliation or affect on them as dancers.
Inevitably, those students are the few who hurt me the most because in their effort to leave and move on, seem to be inconsolably resigned to find a way to vilanize me as an excuse to get away. Somehow, they have to pick a fight or conjure an imagined slight to justify their bad behaviour, which in turn, is their desperate attempt to assign blame and misdirect anger. I am blessed in that out of the hundreds of students who have come and passed through my classes, only a very few, a mere handful, literally 5 or 6, have succumbed to such a pitiful means of escape.
One particular student was initially so enamoured of me, or shall I say, what and who she imagined me to be, that she actually moved her home to my town to live closer and make it easier to take classes with me. One day, she showed up to class with a black wig. She so fell in love with me, or her imagined version of me, that she imitated me to the point that when she performed, she danced just like me, and people would comment to me about the intensity of the similarity. She stayed with me far longer than she should have, to the point where I felt compelled to tell her that she really needed to study with others and become her own dancer. No matter how flattering it was to be so grossly imitated and to be such an intense object of her obsession, I intuitively and intelligently knew that it was not behoving to either of us for her to be thusly. After all, even a great copy, in the end, is really only a copy, and it is so much better to be your own imperfect original you, than to be a mere "perfect" copy of someone else.
I was very frank and firm, but tried also to be her friend, but it was fated to end badly and impossible to salvage. In the end, she simply ended up hating me. It was as though she wanted to be like me, but then, she wanted to BE me, and there wasn't any room for another me, so she had to try to destroy me, to get me out of her way, so that she could do what I did, and have what I had. Before, we were always together and people thought we were close. Now when people ask her about me, she tells them that she doesn't know me, as thought I no longer exist for her. This was a very extreme case, and I haven't again and hope not ever to experience it again. But, it is very typical for someone experiencing extreme obsession, much like in the movie, "Single White Female".
The beauty of the dance, the feminist spiritualism, and the women-centric bonding happens mostly when there is no room for competition. At first, it looks so great to be a belly dancer! Especially when one is new, and fresh, and not yet indoctrinated. How supportive and friendly and accepting and warm we all look at first, but from a distance, and with fresh eyes. That is, until the student builds strength and skill and confidence, and after experiencing the thrill and ego stroking effect of performing, and being told how talented and beautiful she is, and how much she wants to believe this, needs to believe this, insists on believing this! And then she wants more, starts to see that she can be more, have more, do more. And this is when the trouble begins. The student starts to see herself as better and is feeling that she is better and entitled to better, and to more. And the student begins to get into a competitive mode with other students, and then with other dancers, and with her instructors. It is hard to be friends with someone with whom you believe to be in competition with you. So, something has to go, and the need for the ego is greater than the need for the friendship. So, the friendship and good will is sacrificed in the name of the ego, and for that which feeds the ego.
I understand this phenomenon. I don't like it, but I understand it, and I accept it. It is hard to throw stones at the castle, when one lives in the castle.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Condoms Are Not Optional
In this day and age, I doubt anyone would really prefer to take the risk of pregnancy or disease for the sheer titillation of a one night stand. And especially at this point of the game in my life: Condoms are not an option.
I finally broke down and had what I will refer to as a "one night stand". After all, it has been a very long time since my last sexual liaison and while I do prefer to be with some one whom I at least know enough to like and trust, I am capable and will rarely on occasion participate in a purely sexual experience with a virtual stranger. Like most all my experiences, however, this one was noteworthy.
Of all places, I was at the dentist having a filling. Not exactly at my sexiest, I was both very unmade and very unkempt at the time and rather not exactly expecting to meet anyone other than the receptionist. But like all good stories, while totally not expecting it, I did happen to get the phone number of a man shoved into my hand as I was paying my bill. I thought it was very courageous and cute, so, of course, I had to respond. The gentleman had seemed young and attractive enough and well what the heck, it is not like I have a long list of contenders right now any how. So I texted and we made plans to meet the following night.
The gentleman scored points for taking the initiative and making the effort, and while I did not want to bring a stranger to my home, he would have picked me up at my house, which is totally gentlemanly too. He was great in opening up the door, and bought me a couple of drinks and was totally attentive in spite of the fact that we were in a night club surrounded by women who were half my age and wearing half as much and twice as pretty. So lots of points!!! Yay!
I agreed to go to his place. That the gentleman actually 1. had a car, 2. bought me drinks. and 3. had a place to take me where we could be alone and have sex was wildly accomplished to me! I'd had a year of so of meeting men who had none of those (and how disappointing is that!)
I had to tell him that there would be no sex without a condom. He lied and told me he did not have any but when I went to get mine out of my bag, he suddenly "found" one. Grrrr, but OK.
It was fine but it was not exactly mind blowing sex and I wasn't that drunk enough to let it slide when he let his penis slide out of the condom and tried to enter me without. OMG!!! What the fuck??? I stopped everything faster than a train bearing down on a child playing on the tracts! You cannot enter me without a condom!!!
The gentleman obviously did not prefer to wear the little raincoat on his prized pecker but I don't care! He told me that he had just gotten a physical and was "clean", and when that didn't convince me, he assured me that if I got pregnant, he would take care of it. OMG OMG OMG!!!!
I don't think I could have gotten out of that house faster if it was on fire. What the fuck was he thinking??? WAS he thinking??? What a turn OFF. If I can't even trust you to wear a rubber, what the fuck can I trust you with? NOTHING and certainly not the safety and well being of me! And trust me, there is nothing sexy about a man I don't trust.
*sigh*
I finally broke down and had what I will refer to as a "one night stand". After all, it has been a very long time since my last sexual liaison and while I do prefer to be with some one whom I at least know enough to like and trust, I am capable and will rarely on occasion participate in a purely sexual experience with a virtual stranger. Like most all my experiences, however, this one was noteworthy.
Of all places, I was at the dentist having a filling. Not exactly at my sexiest, I was both very unmade and very unkempt at the time and rather not exactly expecting to meet anyone other than the receptionist. But like all good stories, while totally not expecting it, I did happen to get the phone number of a man shoved into my hand as I was paying my bill. I thought it was very courageous and cute, so, of course, I had to respond. The gentleman had seemed young and attractive enough and well what the heck, it is not like I have a long list of contenders right now any how. So I texted and we made plans to meet the following night.
The gentleman scored points for taking the initiative and making the effort, and while I did not want to bring a stranger to my home, he would have picked me up at my house, which is totally gentlemanly too. He was great in opening up the door, and bought me a couple of drinks and was totally attentive in spite of the fact that we were in a night club surrounded by women who were half my age and wearing half as much and twice as pretty. So lots of points!!! Yay!
I agreed to go to his place. That the gentleman actually 1. had a car, 2. bought me drinks. and 3. had a place to take me where we could be alone and have sex was wildly accomplished to me! I'd had a year of so of meeting men who had none of those (and how disappointing is that!)
I had to tell him that there would be no sex without a condom. He lied and told me he did not have any but when I went to get mine out of my bag, he suddenly "found" one. Grrrr, but OK.
It was fine but it was not exactly mind blowing sex and I wasn't that drunk enough to let it slide when he let his penis slide out of the condom and tried to enter me without. OMG!!! What the fuck??? I stopped everything faster than a train bearing down on a child playing on the tracts! You cannot enter me without a condom!!!
The gentleman obviously did not prefer to wear the little raincoat on his prized pecker but I don't care! He told me that he had just gotten a physical and was "clean", and when that didn't convince me, he assured me that if I got pregnant, he would take care of it. OMG OMG OMG!!!!
I don't think I could have gotten out of that house faster if it was on fire. What the fuck was he thinking??? WAS he thinking??? What a turn OFF. If I can't even trust you to wear a rubber, what the fuck can I trust you with? NOTHING and certainly not the safety and well being of me! And trust me, there is nothing sexy about a man I don't trust.
*sigh*
Why Belly Dance?
Gender Role Conflict
Over the years I have come to some logical ideas about why women love to belly dance. These ideas are not researched nor are they scientific at all, but rather, just my own thoughts about why I think women are drawn to and fall in love with belly dancing.
There is a part of me that feels that, while a very worthwhile and definitely needed pursuit, over the decades in and during our general quest for social equality we have had to forgo our past definitions of femininity (and masculinity, for that matter), and that we don't necessarily feel that we have adequate or clear modern definitions of femininity, that would help us to define what makes us different in a social psychological sense as women from men in our current society. Our ways of doing things and social norms have changed, but not yet taken a new complete, concrete or identifiably clear form.
The art and practice of the belly dance is indeed inherently and unmistakably feminine. From our costuming and make up, to the dance as a physical expression of female beauty and prowess, to our women populated classes and haflis, we are surrounded, behave, and express ourselves in ways that clearly denote female characteristics and beauty.
In a world where we are expected to demand social equality and to therefore focus on characteristics that make us more competitive with, acceptable to, and successful in regards to living and working in a more egalitarian world with men, a blatantly female oriented and feminine world such as the sub culture of those of us involved in belly dance can feel like a very special, welcoming, and safe place for us to finally bask in the glory of total female oriented expression without having to declare ourselves as belonging in any specific camp other than the fact that we are women.
Growing Up As An Ugly Ducking
Personally, my childhood was not pretty in many ways. I certainly did not feel very pretty nor did I feel very feminine. I feel like I had a unique situation but I know that I probably did not. When I was two years old, my family immigrated from Italy and we ended up living in a very white, Irish neighborhood. There were constant similar remarks and questions from others that indicated to me that our presence was either very odd, or very wrong. With my black hair, olive skin, and foreign accent, I was the proverbial coffee bean in a glass of milk. My looks, my speech, and my family on the surface did not resemble those around me. Even my dolls invariably had blond hair, blue eyes, and WASP names. I was mercilessly teased by other children (children can be very cruel) and my father was sent home from work on more than one occasion because of a fight he would get into because of other workers who would also mercilessly bully him to the point where he would finally lose it.
It is of no surprise to me that I delighted in the fact that as a belly dancer, I found myself in a venue in which my looks and persona worked for me in regards to making it appear that I belonged. Not only that, but I found myself being told that not only did I look as though I belonged, i.e. I look like a belly dancer, and I look like a person of Middle Eastern descent, but also that I was beautiful, special, and unique, and that this uniqueness in itself, that I did something as unique as belly dance, was in and of itself considered beautiful and special.
Connecting With Women
As an adult, I find it especially difficult to connect with other women. Looking for ways to identify with and a reason to connect with other women using the commonality of an interest in belly dance became very helpful and I am very friendly with and even friends with women with whom I have met via the belly dance.
Self Expression And Creativity
Like many art forms such as writing, dancing, the performing arts, and all kinds of other art forms, the belly dance is a format for self expression and artistic creativity in a culture that does not necessarily venerate or nurture self expression, creativity, or the arts in general. Belly dancers have created their own sub-culture in which we support ourselves and each other by providing resources such as performance opportunities and instruction.
Furthermore, as someone who is undoubtedly and intrinsically a dark soul, leaning towards a despondent and more depressive aspect, a realist with a pragmatic underpinning, and an introverted, self absorbed loner with an ubiquitously cerebral mentality, I truly appreciate and bask in the unique opportunity to be able to express a more joyful, life affirming, impulsive and creative side of myself.
Over the years I have come to some logical ideas about why women love to belly dance. These ideas are not researched nor are they scientific at all, but rather, just my own thoughts about why I think women are drawn to and fall in love with belly dancing.
There is a part of me that feels that, while a very worthwhile and definitely needed pursuit, over the decades in and during our general quest for social equality we have had to forgo our past definitions of femininity (and masculinity, for that matter), and that we don't necessarily feel that we have adequate or clear modern definitions of femininity, that would help us to define what makes us different in a social psychological sense as women from men in our current society. Our ways of doing things and social norms have changed, but not yet taken a new complete, concrete or identifiably clear form.
The art and practice of the belly dance is indeed inherently and unmistakably feminine. From our costuming and make up, to the dance as a physical expression of female beauty and prowess, to our women populated classes and haflis, we are surrounded, behave, and express ourselves in ways that clearly denote female characteristics and beauty.
In a world where we are expected to demand social equality and to therefore focus on characteristics that make us more competitive with, acceptable to, and successful in regards to living and working in a more egalitarian world with men, a blatantly female oriented and feminine world such as the sub culture of those of us involved in belly dance can feel like a very special, welcoming, and safe place for us to finally bask in the glory of total female oriented expression without having to declare ourselves as belonging in any specific camp other than the fact that we are women.
Growing Up As An Ugly Ducking
Personally, my childhood was not pretty in many ways. I certainly did not feel very pretty nor did I feel very feminine. I feel like I had a unique situation but I know that I probably did not. When I was two years old, my family immigrated from Italy and we ended up living in a very white, Irish neighborhood. There were constant similar remarks and questions from others that indicated to me that our presence was either very odd, or very wrong. With my black hair, olive skin, and foreign accent, I was the proverbial coffee bean in a glass of milk. My looks, my speech, and my family on the surface did not resemble those around me. Even my dolls invariably had blond hair, blue eyes, and WASP names. I was mercilessly teased by other children (children can be very cruel) and my father was sent home from work on more than one occasion because of a fight he would get into because of other workers who would also mercilessly bully him to the point where he would finally lose it.
It is of no surprise to me that I delighted in the fact that as a belly dancer, I found myself in a venue in which my looks and persona worked for me in regards to making it appear that I belonged. Not only that, but I found myself being told that not only did I look as though I belonged, i.e. I look like a belly dancer, and I look like a person of Middle Eastern descent, but also that I was beautiful, special, and unique, and that this uniqueness in itself, that I did something as unique as belly dance, was in and of itself considered beautiful and special.
Connecting With Women
As an adult, I find it especially difficult to connect with other women. Looking for ways to identify with and a reason to connect with other women using the commonality of an interest in belly dance became very helpful and I am very friendly with and even friends with women with whom I have met via the belly dance.
Self Expression And Creativity
Like many art forms such as writing, dancing, the performing arts, and all kinds of other art forms, the belly dance is a format for self expression and artistic creativity in a culture that does not necessarily venerate or nurture self expression, creativity, or the arts in general. Belly dancers have created their own sub-culture in which we support ourselves and each other by providing resources such as performance opportunities and instruction.
Furthermore, as someone who is undoubtedly and intrinsically a dark soul, leaning towards a despondent and more depressive aspect, a realist with a pragmatic underpinning, and an introverted, self absorbed loner with an ubiquitously cerebral mentality, I truly appreciate and bask in the unique opportunity to be able to express a more joyful, life affirming, impulsive and creative side of myself.
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Who I am Versus Who You Want Me To Be
One of the things that has been on my mind has to do with the idea that I feel that I have often times been befriended, wanted, or loved for who someone else has imagined me to be, rather than who I really am. I am convinced that in many of my relationships, both romantic and friendship, and especially in ones that have either not worked out or not lasted, or even ended badly, has to do with the idea that somehow, I did not measure up to their idea of me. I can't help but feel that somehow I am responsible, at least in part, in managing to allow this phenomenon to occur.
Perhaps there is a way in which I, too, am liking or falling in love with some unrealistic ideal. For example, perhaps I love the idea of being liked or loved by someone who would dare to put me in a higher or different light than I reside in. Perhaps I am persuaded by this higher vision of me, and wanting to also see myself in this different light, compelled to allow myself to get swept up into this fantasy version of who I appear to be to this other person for the sheer titillation of it all.
All I know is that, falling off of this false pedestal leaves me feeling bruised and disappointed. I don't like it and I do not like the aftermath; The sense of loss of a love or a friend, the incurring need to rebuild my self, my ego, and sometimes, my life. It is all just so very painful and messy.
I guess that what I need to do is to figure out exactly who I am, what I want, and make sure that I am presenting myself to others as sincerely and authentically as possible. However, sometimes I am convinced that that is exactly what I am doing, and yet, I feel I am horribly misunderstood and mistaken.
Besides being true to myself and in my intentions to others I realize that I sometimes find the line between who is responsible for what to be a bit blurry. I tend to take a lot of responsibility, and perhaps at times, more than my fair share, of why someone would say or do something that causes an unfavorable emotional response in me. A case in point is that, in spite of how articulately careful I have been in representing myself to be a single woman in search of men to date in pursuant to a monogamous relationship, I still tend to get an awful lot of penis pictures and unsolicited offers for spontaneous sex. My first reaction is, "What is it about me that makes this man feel that I am interested in seeing his penis at about the same time or before we even say "hello"? or "What is it about me that is making this man feel that I might be interested in having sex with him, when I don't know a thing about him?"
It could very well be that this man is obsessed with his penis and thinks so highly of it, that he just wants to share his penis pics with the world at large, for all to share in the glory of his unadulterated manhood. Or, it could be that all this man wants is the instant gratification of getting off, and it is the "getting off" part that is his primary motivation, and that he really doesn't care who with.
I know that this is true; That people are motivated by their own wants, needs and desires, first and foremost, and rarely if ever are considering what the other person may be thinking or feeling. I don't say this to sound bitter or jaded, but rather am simply admitting to the fact that we are all as human beings basically wired to be ego-centric. For example, is it any less self-centered for me to be automatically thinking that I am somehow responsible for the behavior of others, before acknowledging that perhaps this person is simply acting out of their own desires to get their own wants met?
Still, I am curious and confused about the idea that people often times project their image of who I am onto me, not seeing and even ignoring who I really am, until the real me, butting into, interfering, and eventually tragically destroys their self constructed image of who I really am.
Perhaps there is a way in which I, too, am liking or falling in love with some unrealistic ideal. For example, perhaps I love the idea of being liked or loved by someone who would dare to put me in a higher or different light than I reside in. Perhaps I am persuaded by this higher vision of me, and wanting to also see myself in this different light, compelled to allow myself to get swept up into this fantasy version of who I appear to be to this other person for the sheer titillation of it all.
All I know is that, falling off of this false pedestal leaves me feeling bruised and disappointed. I don't like it and I do not like the aftermath; The sense of loss of a love or a friend, the incurring need to rebuild my self, my ego, and sometimes, my life. It is all just so very painful and messy.
I guess that what I need to do is to figure out exactly who I am, what I want, and make sure that I am presenting myself to others as sincerely and authentically as possible. However, sometimes I am convinced that that is exactly what I am doing, and yet, I feel I am horribly misunderstood and mistaken.
Besides being true to myself and in my intentions to others I realize that I sometimes find the line between who is responsible for what to be a bit blurry. I tend to take a lot of responsibility, and perhaps at times, more than my fair share, of why someone would say or do something that causes an unfavorable emotional response in me. A case in point is that, in spite of how articulately careful I have been in representing myself to be a single woman in search of men to date in pursuant to a monogamous relationship, I still tend to get an awful lot of penis pictures and unsolicited offers for spontaneous sex. My first reaction is, "What is it about me that makes this man feel that I am interested in seeing his penis at about the same time or before we even say "hello"? or "What is it about me that is making this man feel that I might be interested in having sex with him, when I don't know a thing about him?"
It could very well be that this man is obsessed with his penis and thinks so highly of it, that he just wants to share his penis pics with the world at large, for all to share in the glory of his unadulterated manhood. Or, it could be that all this man wants is the instant gratification of getting off, and it is the "getting off" part that is his primary motivation, and that he really doesn't care who with.
I know that this is true; That people are motivated by their own wants, needs and desires, first and foremost, and rarely if ever are considering what the other person may be thinking or feeling. I don't say this to sound bitter or jaded, but rather am simply admitting to the fact that we are all as human beings basically wired to be ego-centric. For example, is it any less self-centered for me to be automatically thinking that I am somehow responsible for the behavior of others, before acknowledging that perhaps this person is simply acting out of their own desires to get their own wants met?
Still, I am curious and confused about the idea that people often times project their image of who I am onto me, not seeing and even ignoring who I really am, until the real me, butting into, interfering, and eventually tragically destroys their self constructed image of who I really am.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Insomnia Update
I have gotten maybe eight hours of sleep over the past five nights. This is crazy, and I feel groggy and flu like. Tonight I will attempt to induce a drug infused coma. If you don't hear from me again, it is likely due to an overdose. Please call the paramedics and ask that they send men wearing wife beaters. I made this same request for my recent move when hiring a moving company, but they thought I was joking. I am not joking. I like men in wife beaters and if I have to be made to vomit (or die) then I at least want something comfortable to lean on and sexy to look at.
Performing For People Who Don't Want Me To Perform For Them
Enough said.
This past weekend I did a belly dance for a gentleman's 80th birthday. The woman who hired me, his daughter, seemed confident that this would be a great surprise for him. It is almost always the woman who hires the dancer: the wife, the girlfriend, the mother (yeah, it creeps me out a little when a mother hires me to dance for her son, but who am I to judge), or the daughter.
The hiring woman did call me back a couple of days before the event, just to inquire about details. It seems some of the people involved at this small gathering of family and friends had concerns about what exactly I do, and how I do it (she asked me about "audience participation", did I touch anyone or try to force anyone to do anything?). I reinforced the idea that I am ALWAYS family friendly and appropriate (as any "real" belly dance ought to be) and explained what I do. This should have been my heads-up. But, I guess I was hoping it would all be OK.
I was so wrong.
My performance at that event lasted exactly 6 minutes. It was certainly not the shortest performance I have ever done, but less than half of what I would usually do, at such an event. I would have completed my routine, would have preferred to complete my routine, but it was obvious that the stiff shirts standing around me had gotten to just about all they could take of me after the first three minutes. Besides the "OK, we are done with you now, this IS the end of your show now, right?" hand clapping, it was the glazed look of horror in their eyes (it looked as if they were expecting me to, at any minute, rip my panties off and masturbate in front of them) that stopped me.
It was almost as bad as the gig I had nine months ago, where the wife of the birthday boy, upon seeing me in full belly dance regalia, jumped up sobbing "Oh no! No! I don't want this! I am NOT HAPPY!" before running into the kitchen and bursting into tears for the rest of my performance.
Does anyone have any idea how difficult it is to perform for people who clearly do not want me to perform for them?
My question is this; How can you, when considering hiring me, not know your family and friends enough to know whether or not they can tolerate a belly dance? What were you thinking?
This past weekend I did a belly dance for a gentleman's 80th birthday. The woman who hired me, his daughter, seemed confident that this would be a great surprise for him. It is almost always the woman who hires the dancer: the wife, the girlfriend, the mother (yeah, it creeps me out a little when a mother hires me to dance for her son, but who am I to judge), or the daughter.
The hiring woman did call me back a couple of days before the event, just to inquire about details. It seems some of the people involved at this small gathering of family and friends had concerns about what exactly I do, and how I do it (she asked me about "audience participation", did I touch anyone or try to force anyone to do anything?). I reinforced the idea that I am ALWAYS family friendly and appropriate (as any "real" belly dance ought to be) and explained what I do. This should have been my heads-up. But, I guess I was hoping it would all be OK.
I was so wrong.
My performance at that event lasted exactly 6 minutes. It was certainly not the shortest performance I have ever done, but less than half of what I would usually do, at such an event. I would have completed my routine, would have preferred to complete my routine, but it was obvious that the stiff shirts standing around me had gotten to just about all they could take of me after the first three minutes. Besides the "OK, we are done with you now, this IS the end of your show now, right?" hand clapping, it was the glazed look of horror in their eyes (it looked as if they were expecting me to, at any minute, rip my panties off and masturbate in front of them) that stopped me.
It was almost as bad as the gig I had nine months ago, where the wife of the birthday boy, upon seeing me in full belly dance regalia, jumped up sobbing "Oh no! No! I don't want this! I am NOT HAPPY!" before running into the kitchen and bursting into tears for the rest of my performance.
Does anyone have any idea how difficult it is to perform for people who clearly do not want me to perform for them?
My question is this; How can you, when considering hiring me, not know your family and friends enough to know whether or not they can tolerate a belly dance? What were you thinking?
"How Much To Let Me...
...lay my head on your tummy?" was the question I was asked today by a "gentleman" calling to inquire about hiring me as a belly dancer.
*sigh*
I knew right away when he ended his message with "Ps: your delicious looking belly is what led me to call you."
But, I have to give him the benefit of the doubt and return his call, even though in my gut and from experience, I know this is more than likely some psycho fuck nut looking to get off.
I was right...(sometimes I hate being right!)
This "gentleman caller" did briefly mention an event he wanted to hire me for, at an unset determined location and unset determined time (HA). Then went on to the real question; How much would it cost for me to also give him a private dance, where he could fulfill his fetish for my tummy?
Why I am always stunned at these moments, I will never know. It seems always it is after the fact that I come up with the great come-back lines. But I am content with my response!
My response: "Well, I have never had such a request, and it being so unusual, I will require some time to consider it. But, as long as the activity is legal, safe, sane and conscentual, I will be willing to consider it. However, I reserve the right to change my mind and end said performance at any time. Why don't you call me back when you have thought this over."
That way, if this is a legitimate call, I have saved face, and if it is a cop, looking to see if I am a pro, or more likely a psycho fuck nut looking to get his freak on, I have saved my ass.
*sigh*
I knew right away when he ended his message with "Ps: your delicious looking belly is what led me to call you."
But, I have to give him the benefit of the doubt and return his call, even though in my gut and from experience, I know this is more than likely some psycho fuck nut looking to get off.
I was right...(sometimes I hate being right!)
This "gentleman caller" did briefly mention an event he wanted to hire me for, at an unset determined location and unset determined time (HA). Then went on to the real question; How much would it cost for me to also give him a private dance, where he could fulfill his fetish for my tummy?
Why I am always stunned at these moments, I will never know. It seems always it is after the fact that I come up with the great come-back lines. But I am content with my response!
My response: "Well, I have never had such a request, and it being so unusual, I will require some time to consider it. But, as long as the activity is legal, safe, sane and conscentual, I will be willing to consider it. However, I reserve the right to change my mind and end said performance at any time. Why don't you call me back when you have thought this over."
That way, if this is a legitimate call, I have saved face, and if it is a cop, looking to see if I am a pro, or more likely a psycho fuck nut looking to get his freak on, I have saved my ass.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
The Irony of Being A Person of Principle
Today I was at a belly dance hafli, where there were performances by some of my students from the past, as well as dancers with whom I consider myself friendly with, and my peers. In fact, a handful there had also at one time been members of my dance troupe as well. One of these dancers (I will call her "Air") who had been a student and troupe member, and who has gone on to teach and perform publicly came and spoke with me a short while. She has been going to a club that features belly dancers and live music, probably to hang out as well as to dance. I know a few of my other past students have been going there as well.
Air began by mentioning that a couple of musicians with whom I used to work with had asked about me, as well as some other dancers. Since they hadn't seen me in a while, they were wondering where I'd been and how I was doing. While I certainly didn't keep it a secret that I "retired" from the night club and restaurant scene a few years ago, I also didn't exactly take out an ad in the paper to announce it either, so I suppose not everyone knows or understands the reason why I haven't been seen around or performing in these places. But I think that they should have a sense. Especially someone like Air, who had been an active student and troupe member with me while I was still active in the night club sceen, and saw and heard firsthand what my experiences were like. Or maybe her memory is just "different" than mine?
Air spoke of this one particular restaurant. I will call it "The Blue Hat" restaurant, where they have been having live music and dancers. The irony of this conversation is that of course, here is Air beaming and smiling about how wonderful it is to go to The Blue Hat, and dance with the live band, when Air had been one of the dancers who was with me when some difficult circumstances occurred. Allow me to explain.
First, I have had a few students who I will refer to as "Students Who Have Gone Bad" and they each deserve their own blogs, which are forthcoming. "Students Who Have Gone Bad" are basically dancers who came to me and became my student, tried to pretend to be my friend, and sometimes were members of my troupe, but who ended up leaving "badly" (i.e. they had to leave the claw marks before letting go of the student-teacher relationship by behaving poorly and causing drama) or behaving otherwise "badly" (i.e. they did something inappropriately mean or wrong, like poaching on my students or gigs, or undercutting and stealing students, classes or gigs, and villainizing me in the end in some ludicrus manner in order to justify their own bad behaviour and reason for breaking off from me).
The Blue Hat was a restaurant that I had been booking and dancing at, and which was poached from me by a former student and "friend" (to be blogged about soon as well) whom I will call "Itch". But, at the time, trying to be a better person and accepting that students sometimes become ambitious and competitive, and that business is business, I decided to try a gig there with my troupe, in spite of the fact that 1. I knew the management and owner wanted only commercially attractive dancers (i.e. white, young, skinny, seemingly available, and pretty girls) and 2. I'd been burned there by the ex-student gone bad who stole my gig there. I wanted to put my differences behind me in order to be able to offer the performance opportunity to my own dancers. My rationale being: Why should they miss out on a good opportunity in the present, because of a bad experience in my past?
My troupe consisted at the time of not-necessarily what is considered commercially attractive. That is, I had women of different ages, weight, sizes, looks, and skin color. But Itch, the ex-student gone bad who had stolen the gig from me and who was obviously now the booking dancer at The Blue Hat assured me that management knew and understood this and that she was definitely sure that we would be acceptable as entertainment that evening.
WRONG.
We rehearsed for our group troupe performances and solos, got all dolled up, brought our family and friends with us, and prepared for our big night there. So there we were, all standing there, dressed and ready to go on, our friends and family sitting at tables and eating and drinking. Everyone eager and happy and excited to see our show, and us, excited and happy to perform it.
While we were arriving and preparing, apparently, management and owner decided that they did not like the look of our troupe members and that they definitely DID NOT want us to perform. Rather than telling me directly, as the Artistic Director of the troupe, the management and owner told a waiter, to tell the band, to tell me (fhew! and how mature is that?), that we in no uncertain terms were NOT to go on.
I cannot describe adequately in words how incredibly horrified and heartbroke and foolish I felt. There we were literally all in costume and standing in the hall waiting for our cue to begin, and all of our friends and family in the restaurant already at tables eating and drinking and waiting to see their loved ones go on. And I had to tell my dancers that we could not perform after all!!!
It was a nightmare for me. And of course, I do not have the heart to even step foot in that place now, after what I had to go through. Itch of course was not there and so was of no help at the moment. Itch had assured me it was OK. Did Itch have no clue what management wanted? Was she being lied to or misled herself? Was this some kind of a set up or sick joke?
So, pardon me if I see the irony in this story; That Air thinks so highly of this place and has no problem going there now, when at the time, she was one of us, and she was there with us, when this happened. But, I guess that is how eager dancers are to experience the satisfaction of performing in public...and I understand that enthusiasm because I too have felt that way as a dancer and new performer: so eager and grateful and happy just to have those few moments of bliss, dancing in public with a live band!
I think it is my sense of principle that makes me unwilling and uninterested to perform in or patronize this place. They put me in the most terrible position possible: insulting and demeaning myself, my dancers, and my art. I can't help but find it ironic that the same dancers, such as Air, who they rejected and inconvenienced in such a shallow and shady way, can justify going there.
Air began by mentioning that a couple of musicians with whom I used to work with had asked about me, as well as some other dancers. Since they hadn't seen me in a while, they were wondering where I'd been and how I was doing. While I certainly didn't keep it a secret that I "retired" from the night club and restaurant scene a few years ago, I also didn't exactly take out an ad in the paper to announce it either, so I suppose not everyone knows or understands the reason why I haven't been seen around or performing in these places. But I think that they should have a sense. Especially someone like Air, who had been an active student and troupe member with me while I was still active in the night club sceen, and saw and heard firsthand what my experiences were like. Or maybe her memory is just "different" than mine?
Air spoke of this one particular restaurant. I will call it "The Blue Hat" restaurant, where they have been having live music and dancers. The irony of this conversation is that of course, here is Air beaming and smiling about how wonderful it is to go to The Blue Hat, and dance with the live band, when Air had been one of the dancers who was with me when some difficult circumstances occurred. Allow me to explain.
First, I have had a few students who I will refer to as "Students Who Have Gone Bad" and they each deserve their own blogs, which are forthcoming. "Students Who Have Gone Bad" are basically dancers who came to me and became my student, tried to pretend to be my friend, and sometimes were members of my troupe, but who ended up leaving "badly" (i.e. they had to leave the claw marks before letting go of the student-teacher relationship by behaving poorly and causing drama) or behaving otherwise "badly" (i.e. they did something inappropriately mean or wrong, like poaching on my students or gigs, or undercutting and stealing students, classes or gigs, and villainizing me in the end in some ludicrus manner in order to justify their own bad behaviour and reason for breaking off from me).
The Blue Hat was a restaurant that I had been booking and dancing at, and which was poached from me by a former student and "friend" (to be blogged about soon as well) whom I will call "Itch". But, at the time, trying to be a better person and accepting that students sometimes become ambitious and competitive, and that business is business, I decided to try a gig there with my troupe, in spite of the fact that 1. I knew the management and owner wanted only commercially attractive dancers (i.e. white, young, skinny, seemingly available, and pretty girls) and 2. I'd been burned there by the ex-student gone bad who stole my gig there. I wanted to put my differences behind me in order to be able to offer the performance opportunity to my own dancers. My rationale being: Why should they miss out on a good opportunity in the present, because of a bad experience in my past?
My troupe consisted at the time of not-necessarily what is considered commercially attractive. That is, I had women of different ages, weight, sizes, looks, and skin color. But Itch, the ex-student gone bad who had stolen the gig from me and who was obviously now the booking dancer at The Blue Hat assured me that management knew and understood this and that she was definitely sure that we would be acceptable as entertainment that evening.
WRONG.
We rehearsed for our group troupe performances and solos, got all dolled up, brought our family and friends with us, and prepared for our big night there. So there we were, all standing there, dressed and ready to go on, our friends and family sitting at tables and eating and drinking. Everyone eager and happy and excited to see our show, and us, excited and happy to perform it.
While we were arriving and preparing, apparently, management and owner decided that they did not like the look of our troupe members and that they definitely DID NOT want us to perform. Rather than telling me directly, as the Artistic Director of the troupe, the management and owner told a waiter, to tell the band, to tell me (fhew! and how mature is that?), that we in no uncertain terms were NOT to go on.
I cannot describe adequately in words how incredibly horrified and heartbroke and foolish I felt. There we were literally all in costume and standing in the hall waiting for our cue to begin, and all of our friends and family in the restaurant already at tables eating and drinking and waiting to see their loved ones go on. And I had to tell my dancers that we could not perform after all!!!
It was a nightmare for me. And of course, I do not have the heart to even step foot in that place now, after what I had to go through. Itch of course was not there and so was of no help at the moment. Itch had assured me it was OK. Did Itch have no clue what management wanted? Was she being lied to or misled herself? Was this some kind of a set up or sick joke?
So, pardon me if I see the irony in this story; That Air thinks so highly of this place and has no problem going there now, when at the time, she was one of us, and she was there with us, when this happened. But, I guess that is how eager dancers are to experience the satisfaction of performing in public...and I understand that enthusiasm because I too have felt that way as a dancer and new performer: so eager and grateful and happy just to have those few moments of bliss, dancing in public with a live band!
I think it is my sense of principle that makes me unwilling and uninterested to perform in or patronize this place. They put me in the most terrible position possible: insulting and demeaning myself, my dancers, and my art. I can't help but find it ironic that the same dancers, such as Air, who they rejected and inconvenienced in such a shallow and shady way, can justify going there.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
A Very Long Initial Contact Email
This is an email from a man who contacted me via the Internet dating site. I have removed any obvious details and changed names to protect the not-so-innocent. But, you HAVE to see this! FOUR FULL PAGES in his very first email to me. I WANT to feel flattered. In fact, I feel very frightened (but in a very funny kind of a way). Is he very excited, or just forgot to take his meds???
I did return his email with a note in which I explained I was taking my time and thanks for the email, and also, btw, what's up with the off punctuation and grammar. His response was "What odd punctuation and grammar???"
I rest my case, and I am definitely blogging this one!
From Internet dating guy:
Special Note -This turned into a way long, looooong email To you
:Its absolutely going to have to be sent to You in multiple parts for it won't all fit in one.
: However, the reason it turned into such a LONG email is You and YOUR Profile, have simply Blown Me Away !!!!
: YOU are sure sounding like a Uniquely Different and Ultra Intriguing, Mentally Stimulating Woman to Me. By Far So Much Better than the Norm out here on POF and THAT Prompted ME to just babble on and On to You here, hopeing YOU Will Be as equally interested in ME, as I am YOU.
: So bucle your seat belt and be prepared to hear / read, a Lot of what YOU and YOUR Uniqueness, prompted Me to Write you.lol
: Hope You Enjoy it and Me.
Hello there,
Wow, WoW, and WOW !!!!!!
YOU Are a Uniquely Wonderfully, Different kind of Woman than the Norm out here on POF.
I am Blown Away at how and what You wrote in your profile.
Before I write anything else, let me respond to something you Wrote in Your profile.
You said that "You pine for your youth and Feel your looks are fading".
I am here to tell YOU, Your Looks are Certainly Not fading !!
Matter of fact, I have found in my life since I have been divorced and have met numerous woman of All ages, that woman in their early forties, like You are, actualy Look the Most Beautifullest To Me for many reasons.
One of the main reasons IS that its appearing that once a woman gets in her early forties, She is Absolutely So much More in TUNE with her OWN female femininity and Very Ultra Sensuous, inner Self. Realizing maybe for the first time in her life, the Very Essence of HER OWN Feminine Sensuality is in fact the Very Core of her inner peaceful contenment as well as her Most Exhileratingly Pleasurable Excitement.
In basic words, but trying to remain Totaly Polite and Totaly Respectful with How I say it, basicaly once woman seem to reach their early forties, they Then Realize their OWN Sensuous Pleasures are Not Only just as IMPORTANT than the Guy they are Involved withs NEEDS, but actualy, in My Mind, Your Pleasures are Even More So Important than MY Needs, and I DO Sincverely Believe that Woman Now Fully get THAT, once they hit a certain age. [early forties its seeming to Me]
Before then, its seems that woman are more concerned with being sure the guy they are involved with, is always fully satisfied, putting the guys Needs Fisrt, 2nd to their own.
Not that I hate That, lol, BUT, To ME, now that I have aquired Much Working knowledge since I have been divorced, I have come to the Great realization For MYSELF, and My Own Pleasures, they are by Far Much More Greatly Enhanced when a Wonderful Woman is Very Much in Tune with Her Own Ultra Femine Sensuousness for Most of MY Pleasures actualy Come From Her Intense Enjoyable Pleasures and the Visuals Of Her Enjoying Herself So Intensly.
Bottom line, My Intensity keeps growing huger and HUGER, Feeding off of HER Intensie Pleasure.
The Happier and More Ultra Stimulatingly Arroused I can make Her, and Keep Her that way, the More Happy and Ultra Stimulated I end up being.
With No End in sight to as how High the Mutualy Intense, Ultra Arrousal can go for Us Both.
In essence, WE ach Feed off each others Sensuous Intensity, and isn't THAT The way Life truely should be between two Good people who Do Sincerely care about each other???!!!!!!!!???????!!!!!!!!
The Point in telling YOU All that WAS, do not at all Feel like You are Missing Your Youth for, the Fact Is, You Truely Are at a Fabulous Place in Your Life Right Now.
SO Embrace it and Love the age You are at because it truely is maybe the Best Turning Point in Your Life to now be Fully in Tune with Yourself to Be Enjoying Your i
I did return his email with a note in which I explained I was taking my time and thanks for the email, and also, btw, what's up with the off punctuation and grammar. His response was "What odd punctuation and grammar???"
I rest my case, and I am definitely blogging this one!
From Internet dating guy:
Special Note -This turned into a way long, looooong email To you
:Its absolutely going to have to be sent to You in multiple parts for it won't all fit in one.
: However, the reason it turned into such a LONG email is You and YOUR Profile, have simply Blown Me Away !!!!
: YOU are sure sounding like a Uniquely Different and Ultra Intriguing, Mentally Stimulating Woman to Me. By Far So Much Better than the Norm out here on POF and THAT Prompted ME to just babble on and On to You here, hopeing YOU Will Be as equally interested in ME, as I am YOU.
: So bucle your seat belt and be prepared to hear / read, a Lot of what YOU and YOUR Uniqueness, prompted Me to Write you.lol
: Hope You Enjoy it and Me.
Hello there,
Wow, WoW, and WOW !!!!!!
YOU Are a Uniquely Wonderfully, Different kind of Woman than the Norm out here on POF.
I am Blown Away at how and what You wrote in your profile.
Before I write anything else, let me respond to something you Wrote in Your profile.
You said that "You pine for your youth and Feel your looks are fading".
I am here to tell YOU, Your Looks are Certainly Not fading !!
Matter of fact, I have found in my life since I have been divorced and have met numerous woman of All ages, that woman in their early forties, like You are, actualy Look the Most Beautifullest To Me for many reasons.
One of the main reasons IS that its appearing that once a woman gets in her early forties, She is Absolutely So much More in TUNE with her OWN female femininity and Very Ultra Sensuous, inner Self. Realizing maybe for the first time in her life, the Very Essence of HER OWN Feminine Sensuality is in fact the Very Core of her inner peaceful contenment as well as her Most Exhileratingly Pleasurable Excitement.
In basic words, but trying to remain Totaly Polite and Totaly Respectful with How I say it, basicaly once woman seem to reach their early forties, they Then Realize their OWN Sensuous Pleasures are Not Only just as IMPORTANT than the Guy they are Involved withs NEEDS, but actualy, in My Mind, Your Pleasures are Even More So Important than MY Needs, and I DO Sincverely Believe that Woman Now Fully get THAT, once they hit a certain age. [early forties its seeming to Me]
Before then, its seems that woman are more concerned with being sure the guy they are involved with, is always fully satisfied, putting the guys Needs Fisrt, 2nd to their own.
Not that I hate That, lol, BUT, To ME, now that I have aquired Much Working knowledge since I have been divorced, I have come to the Great realization For MYSELF, and My Own Pleasures, they are by Far Much More Greatly Enhanced when a Wonderful Woman is Very Much in Tune with Her Own Ultra Femine Sensuousness for Most of MY Pleasures actualy Come From Her Intense Enjoyable Pleasures and the Visuals Of Her Enjoying Herself So Intensly.
Bottom line, My Intensity keeps growing huger and HUGER, Feeding off of HER Intensie Pleasure.
The Happier and More Ultra Stimulatingly Arroused I can make Her, and Keep Her that way, the More Happy and Ultra Stimulated I end up being.
With No End in sight to as how High the Mutualy Intense, Ultra Arrousal can go for Us Both.
In essence, WE ach Feed off each others Sensuous Intensity, and isn't THAT The way Life truely should be between two Good people who Do Sincerely care about each other???!!!!!!!!???????!!!!!!!!
The Point in telling YOU All that WAS, do not at all Feel like You are Missing Your Youth for, the Fact Is, You Truely Are at a Fabulous Place in Your Life Right Now.
SO Embrace it and Love the age You are at because it truely is maybe the Best Turning Point in Your Life to now be Fully in Tune with Yourself to Be Enjoying Your i
Part 2 - didn't all fit in One.lol
Please read in order as to not take anything out of context.
Part 2:
:
SO Embrace it and Love the age You are at because it truely is maybe the Best Turning Point in Your Life to now be Fully in Tune with Yourself to Be Enjoying Your inner self, maybe More than You ever have before in Your Life, with great meaning to it.
And when YOU Have a Special Guy in your Life, who IS Fully Aware of THESE Changes in a Woman at This age, as well as HE is also Fully Aware that HIS Inner Contenful Happiness can be So Greatly Enhanced by Putting a Womans Needs Right Up there with HIS OWN, always Being Sure She is Equaly Stimulatingly, More than Satisfied as WELL, OMG, the True Blissfull, Contenful Happiness the two can share in a relationship, is SO Much Better than You would ever imagine it Could Be, when we were Younger.
I have dated woman who were Much younger when I first got divorced, thinking, why not, I am a single guy and if woman in there early 30's ARE IN Fact interested in ME, Go for it Right !!???!!!!
Good for My ego. Right??
Maybe So, BUT, now that I Know what I KNOW about Woman and How their Chemistry Changes, once they hit their early forties, I Will Only date Woman in their forties and Will Never Ever date Younger Woman again.
I Don't even Care if they Look like they just Jumped of the pages of Penthouse Magazine. [And I have actualy dated plenty of woman Who Do look like that]
But, my Ego I have learned means Nothing at All as compared to My True, Contenful, inner peace and Happiness shared with just One Wonderful Woman, who has Now Come into Her Own, and is Now In touch with her Own Feminine, Ultra Sensuous side.
Embrace Your Current age and do not at all pine for Your Youth for the reallity IS, from My Perspective, YOU Are Truely at the start of the Best, most Fullfilling To YOU, Time of your Life.
As Long as You Find a Knowledgable Guy to Share This Same Knowledge and happiness with, You Can and Will Be Happier than You maybe have Ever been in the past, when you were younger.
I have also Noticed in Woman starting in their early forties, and I definately See it in YOU, in what little I can See of YOU in YOUR Profile pics, a certain Magneticaly Attracting to ME, kind of ambiance, that only seems to SHOW, once a Woman Does in fact hit her early forties.
The best way I think I can describe it is Like Visual Pheramones.lol
It Attracts ME So Powerfully to a Woman that it makes My intelligent, logical thinking brain, litterally turn to Mush over Her.
In Your case, Not Only is THAT Powerfully Attracting Me to YOU, but also, Your Very Uniguely, somewhat introverted,[In a good way, and so am I somewhat, by the way] yet Deep Thinking Individualism, is Sincerely Blowing Me Away over YOU.
Wow, Wow, and WOW !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Its appearing To Me, that YOU and I have some Severaly Serious Commanlities / Compatabilities, that very well COULD make You and I a Pair of Dueces that Would Beat a Full House any day, in a game of cards.lol
We Both are slightly introverted in a good way, yet enjoy socialability in equal measure.
We Both are Absolutely Deep Thinkers and it Shows in each of Us.
We Both Smoke. Not such a great thing to share and WE Each really should quit one of these days. But Not Today.lol
[in todays world though where smoking is considered socialby unacceptable, it is Nice that We Each do smoke and could / would not feel uncomfortable smoking around each other, or feel like we were offending each other by doing so]
Here is a Big Commonality We share.
WE are both Self Employed.
Thats Huge for it Definately Shows Deep thinking and somewhat introverted individualism,
Please read in order as to not take anything out of context.
Part 2:
:
SO Embrace it and Love the age You are at because it truely is maybe the Best Turning Point in Your Life to now be Fully in Tune with Yourself to Be Enjoying Your inner self, maybe More than You ever have before in Your Life, with great meaning to it.
And when YOU Have a Special Guy in your Life, who IS Fully Aware of THESE Changes in a Woman at This age, as well as HE is also Fully Aware that HIS Inner Contenful Happiness can be So Greatly Enhanced by Putting a Womans Needs Right Up there with HIS OWN, always Being Sure She is Equaly Stimulatingly, More than Satisfied as WELL, OMG, the True Blissfull, Contenful Happiness the two can share in a relationship, is SO Much Better than You would ever imagine it Could Be, when we were Younger.
I have dated woman who were Much younger when I first got divorced, thinking, why not, I am a single guy and if woman in there early 30's ARE IN Fact interested in ME, Go for it Right !!???!!!!
Good for My ego. Right??
Maybe So, BUT, now that I Know what I KNOW about Woman and How their Chemistry Changes, once they hit their early forties, I Will Only date Woman in their forties and Will Never Ever date Younger Woman again.
I Don't even Care if they Look like they just Jumped of the pages of Penthouse Magazine. [And I have actualy dated plenty of woman Who Do look like that]
But, my Ego I have learned means Nothing at All as compared to My True, Contenful, inner peace and Happiness shared with just One Wonderful Woman, who has Now Come into Her Own, and is Now In touch with her Own Feminine, Ultra Sensuous side.
Embrace Your Current age and do not at all pine for Your Youth for the reallity IS, from My Perspective, YOU Are Truely at the start of the Best, most Fullfilling To YOU, Time of your Life.
As Long as You Find a Knowledgable Guy to Share This Same Knowledge and happiness with, You Can and Will Be Happier than You maybe have Ever been in the past, when you were younger.
I have also Noticed in Woman starting in their early forties, and I definately See it in YOU, in what little I can See of YOU in YOUR Profile pics, a certain Magneticaly Attracting to ME, kind of ambiance, that only seems to SHOW, once a Woman Does in fact hit her early forties.
The best way I think I can describe it is Like Visual Pheramones.lol
It Attracts ME So Powerfully to a Woman that it makes My intelligent, logical thinking brain, litterally turn to Mush over Her.
In Your case, Not Only is THAT Powerfully Attracting Me to YOU, but also, Your Very Uniguely, somewhat introverted,[In a good way, and so am I somewhat, by the way] yet Deep Thinking Individualism, is Sincerely Blowing Me Away over YOU.
Wow, Wow, and WOW !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Its appearing To Me, that YOU and I have some Severaly Serious Commanlities / Compatabilities, that very well COULD make You and I a Pair of Dueces that Would Beat a Full House any day, in a game of cards.lol
We Both are slightly introverted in a good way, yet enjoy socialability in equal measure.
We Both are Absolutely Deep Thinkers and it Shows in each of Us.
We Both Smoke. Not such a great thing to share and WE Each really should quit one of these days. But Not Today.lol
[in todays world though where smoking is considered socialby unacceptable, it is Nice that We Each do smoke and could / would not feel uncomfortable smoking around each other, or feel like we were offending each other by doing so]
Here is a Big Commonality We share.
WE are both Self Employed.
Thats Huge for it Definately Shows Deep thinking and somewhat introverted individualism,
3/27/2012 5:19:25 PM
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Part 4 - didn't all fit in one.
Please read in order as to not take anything out of context. Part 4 : : That won't put a smile on my face, but I would appreciate You making that Clear Imediately, if that is the case though. However, like I already said, I am going to remain Hopelessly Optimistic, thinking We Do have Great Compatability and You are Just as willing to explore the possibility of THAT with Me as I am with YOU. Please Let me Know on that Right away though, EITHER WAY?? Holy Shishkabob !!! This email to You turned into a John Grisham, Novel length, long, loooooooooooooooong email.lol Oopps !!!! Hope it doesn't bore You and put you to sleep.lol The Good news i guess is That is how much my brain got stimulatingy arroused over YOU just from How and What YOU wrote in Your Profile. YOU are Truely a Unigue and different kind of Woman, in ALL Good Ways, Much more than the norm, of what is out here on POF. I am Ultra Intrigued with YOU Already. Here is hoping You also will be as well, with Me. By the way, please do not feel at all compelled, to write Me an equally as ridiculously LONG email as I have just written YOU.lol Matter of fact, I would RATHER you didn't Please. Much shorter multiples are much better. Easier to read and respond to. The fact that I Wrote YOU this much initialy, was just something that kind of just happened With YOU and hopefully it Will make YOU Realize that I obviously have some Serious Interest in YOU here and didn't just write You a few one liners, slinging some of my best bullshit to You.lol So hey, what part of Quincy do You live in?? I live in the Wollaston area about 1 mile away from the beach, about 1 mile away from the hyway, and about 1 mile away from Marina Bay. [Have only been living in Quincy for a couple of years and am not from here] What major Landmark are You near so I have a clue where YOU are located?? Are You in North Quincy, or near the beach, or near Quincy Center, or on the Braintree side of Quincy, or near the Hospital, or Near Quincy Point near the Fore River Bridge, or in Squantum, or near the Houghs Neck part of Quincy, or in West Quincy near Furnace Brook Rotary??? [Lots of parts to Quincy huh?lol] How long have You lived in Quincy and where did You grow up??? Ok, So, balls in Your Court here now. Hope your having a Great Day. Write Soon, even if its only to say Hi, initialy Please. Cio 4 Now badboy4U - Gary |
3/27/2012 5:23:01 PM
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Part 3-didn't all fit in one.
Please read in order as to not take anything out of context.
Part 3
:
WE are both Self Employed.
Thats Huge for it Definately Shows Deep thinking and somewhat introverted individualism, and I Love the fact that being self employed does Give US Full control over our OWN Destinity.
I own a Swimming Pool Company.
Have my whole adult life.
Incorporated it way back when I was still in College.
Its had its ups and downs over the years but the Possitives certainly DO outwiegh the negatives.
Its given me the opportunity to do some World travel, provided brand new homes that I built out in the mucky muck suburbs to raise my 2 lovely, amaizing daughters in, the ability to give them all that little girls need in life to have a good jump start in life, as well as made my ex wife well off well off financialy and devestated Me financially when we got divorced.lol[thats one of the negatives.hahaha But so it goes]
I have also owned several other busnesses in my life and always looking for others to be involved in as well.
At one point, when I was spending lots of time in Mexico, deep down in the Yucatn Penninsula, I was Importing Shrimp into the United States.
Highly Lucratvive and Big Bucks involved.
However, Highly Risky and You can Win Fortunes overnight and Loose them overnight just as Fast.
Very Exciting and FUN though and I may get back into it at some point.
Meesha, I am Ultra Curious at hearing what YOU DO being Self Employed??
With Your Unique individualism, You Got Me on pins and needles Curious to Hear All about what it is You Do being Self Employed???
What is it?
How long have You been doing it?
And is it Prosperous for YOU???
Where I have been self employed my whole adult life, and a natural Entrapeneur, as well as Naturaly Curious, I am Highy Intrigued and Intensly Interested in the fact that You are self employed, and would LOVE for YOU to Tell Me All about what it is YOU DO Please Meesha?????!!!!!!!!!!!!!???
Here is something else I should point out to YOU, that Could actualy be considered Another Commanlity We Both Share.
I am Also Loving Enjoying the fact that YOU Are only 5ft tall !!!
With what I can see in your profile pics, You appear to Be just The Exact size and shape of the Exact type of Wonderful Woman that has ALWAYS Most physically Attracted ME in My life !!!!!!!
Thats a really, Really, REALLY Nice Thing !!!!
Even though physical compatability is Only Part of the important neccesary ingrediants that make up a Fabulous relationship, lets call it what it is though, its a HUGE ingrediant if the relationship IS TO Have the Longevity that All Good people hope to Find in thier lives, for lasting, contentfull compatability.
Oh, here is another Great Compatability, in case You Don't Notice.
We Both Live in Quincy.
How Conveniantly Cool is THAT !!!!!!!
[Providing We Both Find each other as equaly compatable and equaly intriguing to each Want to establish a relationship with each other, of coarse.]
I am going to remain Hopelessly Optimistic, that WE Each Will in fact, as we go threw the initial learning curve of Each Other, Find, We Do Have HUGE Compatability and are Ultra Attracted to Each other in All Ways that Matter in a Great Relationship.
Which are Mentally / Emotionaly / and that All So important Physically, with Earth Shattering Chemistry going on between Us.
Only time can tell sometimes though.
Unless of coarse, YOU Already know You have No interest here.
That won't put a smile on my face, but I would appreciate You making tha
Please read in order as to not take anything out of context.
Part 3
:
WE are both Self Employed.
Thats Huge for it Definately Shows Deep thinking and somewhat introverted individualism, and I Love the fact that being self employed does Give US Full control over our OWN Destinity.
I own a Swimming Pool Company.
Have my whole adult life.
Incorporated it way back when I was still in College.
Its had its ups and downs over the years but the Possitives certainly DO outwiegh the negatives.
Its given me the opportunity to do some World travel, provided brand new homes that I built out in the mucky muck suburbs to raise my 2 lovely, amaizing daughters in, the ability to give them all that little girls need in life to have a good jump start in life, as well as made my ex wife well off well off financialy and devestated Me financially when we got divorced.lol[thats one of the negatives.hahaha But so it goes]
I have also owned several other busnesses in my life and always looking for others to be involved in as well.
At one point, when I was spending lots of time in Mexico, deep down in the Yucatn Penninsula, I was Importing Shrimp into the United States.
Highly Lucratvive and Big Bucks involved.
However, Highly Risky and You can Win Fortunes overnight and Loose them overnight just as Fast.
Very Exciting and FUN though and I may get back into it at some point.
Meesha, I am Ultra Curious at hearing what YOU DO being Self Employed??
With Your Unique individualism, You Got Me on pins and needles Curious to Hear All about what it is You Do being Self Employed???
What is it?
How long have You been doing it?
And is it Prosperous for YOU???
Where I have been self employed my whole adult life, and a natural Entrapeneur, as well as Naturaly Curious, I am Highy Intrigued and Intensly Interested in the fact that You are self employed, and would LOVE for YOU to Tell Me All about what it is YOU DO Please Meesha?????!!!!!!!!!!!!!???
Here is something else I should point out to YOU, that Could actualy be considered Another Commanlity We Both Share.
I am Also Loving Enjoying the fact that YOU Are only 5ft tall !!!
With what I can see in your profile pics, You appear to Be just The Exact size and shape of the Exact type of Wonderful Woman that has ALWAYS Most physically Attracted ME in My life !!!!!!!
Thats a really, Really, REALLY Nice Thing !!!!
Even though physical compatability is Only Part of the important neccesary ingrediants that make up a Fabulous relationship, lets call it what it is though, its a HUGE ingrediant if the relationship IS TO Have the Longevity that All Good people hope to Find in thier lives, for lasting, contentfull compatability.
Oh, here is another Great Compatability, in case You Don't Notice.
We Both Live in Quincy.
How Conveniantly Cool is THAT !!!!!!!
[Providing We Both Find each other as equaly compatable and equaly intriguing to each Want to establish a relationship with each other, of coarse.]
I am going to remain Hopelessly Optimistic, that WE Each Will in fact, as we go threw the initial learning curve of Each Other, Find, We Do Have HUGE Compatability and are Ultra Attracted to Each other in All Ways that Matter in a Great Relationship.
Which are Mentally / Emotionaly / and that All So important Physically, with Earth Shattering Chemistry going on between Us.
Only time can tell sometimes though.
Unless of coarse, YOU Already know You have No interest here.
That won't put a smile on my face, but I would appreciate You making tha
Degrees Of Lying
I am not proud of myself, nor would I promote choices of and participation in such a type of relationship such as the one I am about to describe. I discuss it here nonetheless as it is simply great blog material and a great example of how there can be dregrees of lying, and that the truth can be slowly unfolded, as opposed to frankly put out there.
I was going through a divorce and so jacked up on Prozac at the time that I think that it wasn't so much that I missed the signs, as much as I simply did not care. But I ended up in a realtionship with a man who seemed at the time sincerely convinced of himself and in particular of his particular process of unfolding the truth.
When I met him, I was divorcing and he told me that he had a girlfriend, but that they were in the middle of breaking up. Now, I would normally not get myself involved with someone under these circumstances, but at the time, I did, probably for the sheer distraction and enetertainment value it afforded me at the time.
We dated and became intimate. He took me to him place. I thought there were lots of "things" there that might more likely belong to "a girlfriend" who was closer to living with him than not. He told me that she "did spend more nights there than he had originally led me to beleive," but that they were still definately "breaking up". OK.
One time we were having sex on his bed when I suddenly noticed a pair of black lace panties hanging three inches away from my nose. I asked him about the panties. He admitted that the girlfriend did indeed live with him, but that they were still definately "breaking up". OK.
A few weeks later, I am hanging out at the bar where he works and I see a picture of him and the "girlfriend" and someone makes a comment about "his wife". I ask him about this. He admits that they really are married, and that although this is why he is having such a hard time breaking up with her (duh!), they are defiantely divorcing. RIGHT!
I broke up with him. They are still married. I am sure he is still trying to "break up" with her.
And I am still a very silly goose!
I was going through a divorce and so jacked up on Prozac at the time that I think that it wasn't so much that I missed the signs, as much as I simply did not care. But I ended up in a realtionship with a man who seemed at the time sincerely convinced of himself and in particular of his particular process of unfolding the truth.
When I met him, I was divorcing and he told me that he had a girlfriend, but that they were in the middle of breaking up. Now, I would normally not get myself involved with someone under these circumstances, but at the time, I did, probably for the sheer distraction and enetertainment value it afforded me at the time.
We dated and became intimate. He took me to him place. I thought there were lots of "things" there that might more likely belong to "a girlfriend" who was closer to living with him than not. He told me that she "did spend more nights there than he had originally led me to beleive," but that they were still definately "breaking up". OK.
One time we were having sex on his bed when I suddenly noticed a pair of black lace panties hanging three inches away from my nose. I asked him about the panties. He admitted that the girlfriend did indeed live with him, but that they were still definately "breaking up". OK.
A few weeks later, I am hanging out at the bar where he works and I see a picture of him and the "girlfriend" and someone makes a comment about "his wife". I ask him about this. He admits that they really are married, and that although this is why he is having such a hard time breaking up with her (duh!), they are defiantely divorcing. RIGHT!
I broke up with him. They are still married. I am sure he is still trying to "break up" with her.
And I am still a very silly goose!
How Vanity Is Saving My Life
I am vain. Of course I am vain. Why else would I be so happy to be a belly dancer, constantly parading myself out in front of the masses half naked and with enough make up on to look like the Maybelline factory blew up in my face?
But, here is a seemingly "bad" characteristic that is truly a "good" one. My vanity is saving my life!
For example, I won't drink too much or smoke too much, because I know it is very bad for the skin.
And I am a huge health nut. Although I have been since I was a teenager, I know that I appreciate the fact that eating healthy is contributing to the preservation of my "looks".
I slather myself with sunscreen because I know that the sun causes up to 90% of wrinkles. If I end up avoiding skin cancer, that is a bonus. I know I do it because I am vain. But being vain has it's health benefits :)
In my effort to eat healthy (i.e. stay pretty), I tend to cook for myself.
Tonight's dinner consisted of:
Lentils with Brown and Wild Rice
Caramelized Onions
Tossed Salad with Cooked Brussels Sprouts and a Garlic, Fresh Ginger, Bragg's (a health soy sauce) and Sesame Oil Dressing
Fresh Sliced Strawberries with Brown Sugar and Coconut Ice Cream (the coconut ice cream is made with coconut milk, NOT dairy)
This meal was made with all organic ingredients and is vegan! (And very typical of a meal I might prepare for myself, as well.)
I am happy to share the recipe but have to approximate quantities as I use the "handful of this and a pinch of that" technique.
But, here is a seemingly "bad" characteristic that is truly a "good" one. My vanity is saving my life!
For example, I won't drink too much or smoke too much, because I know it is very bad for the skin.
And I am a huge health nut. Although I have been since I was a teenager, I know that I appreciate the fact that eating healthy is contributing to the preservation of my "looks".
I slather myself with sunscreen because I know that the sun causes up to 90% of wrinkles. If I end up avoiding skin cancer, that is a bonus. I know I do it because I am vain. But being vain has it's health benefits :)
In my effort to eat healthy (i.e. stay pretty), I tend to cook for myself.
Tonight's dinner consisted of:
Lentils with Brown and Wild Rice
Caramelized Onions
Tossed Salad with Cooked Brussels Sprouts and a Garlic, Fresh Ginger, Bragg's (a health soy sauce) and Sesame Oil Dressing
Fresh Sliced Strawberries with Brown Sugar and Coconut Ice Cream (the coconut ice cream is made with coconut milk, NOT dairy)
This meal was made with all organic ingredients and is vegan! (And very typical of a meal I might prepare for myself, as well.)
I am happy to share the recipe but have to approximate quantities as I use the "handful of this and a pinch of that" technique.
The Public Posting of Penis Pictures
I am participating in on-line dating. I think my ad is relatively "normal". "Single gal, looking for single guy, likes long walks, movies, and fine dining," etc etc. So my question is; Why do I inevitably get pictures of men's penises? What is this need to publicly post pictures of their phallus's? Are they afraid that I may not find their character intriguing enough without the promotion of their private parts? Are they showing off? Making sure I like their member as much as I may like them? Concerned that I may judge them as inadequate without a long hard look at their long hard...
In spite of my experiences and smarts, I always seem to get caught off guard. Speechless, when confronted by the profile of the one-eyed monster staring back at me on the screen.
A while ago, I had been chatting with what I had thought was a relatively normal male having a relatively normal initial chatter when he asked me if it was OK if he sent me a "sexy" picture of himself. I said "sure!" Thinking I would be getting a picture of the man perhaps shirtless, showing off his muscles, or on the beach with a big smile and a tan. He told me that his ex-girlfriend was in the picture, apologized for that ahead of time, and assured me that he had her consent to post this picture for me to see. I DID think it was kind of odd, why post a picture of you with your ex, while in pursuit of someone new? And what kind of a person gives permission to do this? But whatever. Who am I to judge. And wouldn't another picture of this person of interest only be aiding my determination of whether or not to date him?
OMG!!!
Well, the guy kind of WAS in the picture, but not enough to say that the picture was of him. As soon as I clicked on the link, I could immediately see this was not just a "sexy"picture of a guy in grape smugglers. In fact, he wasn't wearing anything at all except for his GFs face hanging off the end of his...well...thingamajig. Now there is no way anyone could identify the man in this picture as all that one could see of him was a bit of his belly and just part of his, uh, "part" (at least, the part of his part that wasn't in his GF's MOUTH). BUT I could certainly identify his GFs face from across a crowded smokey room. WTF???
Needless to say, I can never ever seriously consider this guy as a possibly candidate because there is no way I can ever ever even think of him without seeing this photo in my minds' eye. OMG OMG OMG!!!
Was this supposed to impress me? HOW??? I carefully combed through my ad to see if there was anything that could have been misconstrued as me being a swinger, or bi, or a BJ fanatic. Nope, nothing. Am I being a prude? Judgemental? Unaccepting of how others chose to express themselves? Missing a chapter in my Dating for Dummies book?
Well, I have gotten unsolicited penis pictures from pursuers before, but for me, this takes the cake.
In spite of my experiences and smarts, I always seem to get caught off guard. Speechless, when confronted by the profile of the one-eyed monster staring back at me on the screen.
A while ago, I had been chatting with what I had thought was a relatively normal male having a relatively normal initial chatter when he asked me if it was OK if he sent me a "sexy" picture of himself. I said "sure!" Thinking I would be getting a picture of the man perhaps shirtless, showing off his muscles, or on the beach with a big smile and a tan. He told me that his ex-girlfriend was in the picture, apologized for that ahead of time, and assured me that he had her consent to post this picture for me to see. I DID think it was kind of odd, why post a picture of you with your ex, while in pursuit of someone new? And what kind of a person gives permission to do this? But whatever. Who am I to judge. And wouldn't another picture of this person of interest only be aiding my determination of whether or not to date him?
OMG!!!
Well, the guy kind of WAS in the picture, but not enough to say that the picture was of him. As soon as I clicked on the link, I could immediately see this was not just a "sexy"picture of a guy in grape smugglers. In fact, he wasn't wearing anything at all except for his GFs face hanging off the end of his...well...thingamajig. Now there is no way anyone could identify the man in this picture as all that one could see of him was a bit of his belly and just part of his, uh, "part" (at least, the part of his part that wasn't in his GF's MOUTH). BUT I could certainly identify his GFs face from across a crowded smokey room. WTF???
Needless to say, I can never ever seriously consider this guy as a possibly candidate because there is no way I can ever ever even think of him without seeing this photo in my minds' eye. OMG OMG OMG!!!
Was this supposed to impress me? HOW??? I carefully combed through my ad to see if there was anything that could have been misconstrued as me being a swinger, or bi, or a BJ fanatic. Nope, nothing. Am I being a prude? Judgemental? Unaccepting of how others chose to express themselves? Missing a chapter in my Dating for Dummies book?
Well, I have gotten unsolicited penis pictures from pursuers before, but for me, this takes the cake.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Why The Insomnia
The funny thing is that I tend to sleep really well. Deeply, completely. Except when I can't. When I was in college my last semester I had insomnia. I didn't sleep well for about two months. Nothing worked. I thought I was going to lose my mind.
Lately I just feel like I resist wanting to sleep. When I go to bed, the things I think about actually seem to increase in intensity and spin furiously though my mind. I have these realistic but emotionally exaggerated thoughts. They all seem to have to do with the fear of the consequences of getting old and dying.
My teeth all rotting out.
My face caving in.
My parents getting old and sick and suffering and dying.
I can't keep up with the velocity of my life.
I can't keep up with the cost of living.
I simply can't maintain.
And no one wants me.
All of these things are shades of potential reality but not really exactly the truth.
And yet panic sits on my chest like a rabid creature whose claws have sunk in and placed an excruciating pain there. I feel weak and dumb and totally NOT in control.
Intellectually, I feel completely silly for being so obsessed over something that is so natural and destined to be. But I have to admit, emotionally, I am indeed a complete wreck and it is a full time effort to live my life and get through each day these days as though I am a healthy happy human being in the midst of other happy healthy human beings.
I want to be grateful for what I have and who I am. I think I am. But obviously there is this big ugly emotional monster inside of me that is raining on my gratitude parade.
Lately I just feel like I resist wanting to sleep. When I go to bed, the things I think about actually seem to increase in intensity and spin furiously though my mind. I have these realistic but emotionally exaggerated thoughts. They all seem to have to do with the fear of the consequences of getting old and dying.
My teeth all rotting out.
My face caving in.
My parents getting old and sick and suffering and dying.
I can't keep up with the velocity of my life.
I can't keep up with the cost of living.
I simply can't maintain.
And no one wants me.
All of these things are shades of potential reality but not really exactly the truth.
And yet panic sits on my chest like a rabid creature whose claws have sunk in and placed an excruciating pain there. I feel weak and dumb and totally NOT in control.
Intellectually, I feel completely silly for being so obsessed over something that is so natural and destined to be. But I have to admit, emotionally, I am indeed a complete wreck and it is a full time effort to live my life and get through each day these days as though I am a healthy happy human being in the midst of other happy healthy human beings.
I want to be grateful for what I have and who I am. I think I am. But obviously there is this big ugly emotional monster inside of me that is raining on my gratitude parade.
Women Are Beautiful
The art of the belly dance is in essence a celebration of the female beauty. While I am wired to be straight (but NOT narrow), I admit I love the aesthetic beauty of the feminine form. Fundamentally my sex drive is to couple with a man. However, artistically I appreciate and adore the way a woman's body breathes, moves, and takes shape in space. The subcutaneous pockets of flesh, the soft curves and slopes of her body, and the delicate limbs and details are breathtakingly beautiful to me. There is nothing more exciting than watching a woman dance, with emotive energies and synergy.
I am preparing to perform for a women's event that is to me the very best kind of venue to perform in because I know that I will get the best audience for my craft. This sort of audience will more likely find what I do both sensually as well as sexually provocative. And, will appreciate the technical skill as well as the talent. Usually, I find that it is some of one or the other, and this will be one of those rarer opportunities for me to expect to be able to revel in both.
I retired from pursuing performances in night clubs and restaurants a few years ago. I had a great run. For approximately 12 years or so I was the house dancer at the Middle East Restaurant in Cambridge MA and concurrently also performed in the vast majority of restaurants and night clubs throughout New England. It was a lot of fun and I really appreciated all of my experiences. But after a while, it was simply obvious to me that it was time to reinvent myself as a dancer and become more of the type of artist and instructor that I preferred to be.
I am still a very avid performer, and very happy with the gigs I get. The gigs pay very well, and the people really want and appreciate me. For that, I am truly grateful that I was able to establish myself as the type of professional dancer that could warrant this career.
Sometimes I miss the great parts of dancing with a live band in a club as often as I used to. But there are lots of parts of dancing in clubs that I am grateful that I do not have to experience anymore. For example, I am no longer relegated to being chosen for a gig based on what I look like or to whom I have beholden myself to. It is true; even belly dancers have politics. I also do not have to pit myself in competition against other dancers for scant opportunities and for paltry pay. While some clubs did pay a descent wage, many did not. Almost all of them wanted a specific look, an evening long commitment, at least an illusion of sexual availability, and subservient behaviour.
Now if I want to dance with a band, I will simply hire them!
There is a certain freedom and power in being seasoned and in being older. I get to chose and create my own preferred roles and experiences. My drive is a sense of desire, rather than a sense of desperation. And as the captain of my ship, I can boldly go to where I want to go and steer my own way.
I am preparing to perform for a women's event that is to me the very best kind of venue to perform in because I know that I will get the best audience for my craft. This sort of audience will more likely find what I do both sensually as well as sexually provocative. And, will appreciate the technical skill as well as the talent. Usually, I find that it is some of one or the other, and this will be one of those rarer opportunities for me to expect to be able to revel in both.
I retired from pursuing performances in night clubs and restaurants a few years ago. I had a great run. For approximately 12 years or so I was the house dancer at the Middle East Restaurant in Cambridge MA and concurrently also performed in the vast majority of restaurants and night clubs throughout New England. It was a lot of fun and I really appreciated all of my experiences. But after a while, it was simply obvious to me that it was time to reinvent myself as a dancer and become more of the type of artist and instructor that I preferred to be.
I am still a very avid performer, and very happy with the gigs I get. The gigs pay very well, and the people really want and appreciate me. For that, I am truly grateful that I was able to establish myself as the type of professional dancer that could warrant this career.
Sometimes I miss the great parts of dancing with a live band in a club as often as I used to. But there are lots of parts of dancing in clubs that I am grateful that I do not have to experience anymore. For example, I am no longer relegated to being chosen for a gig based on what I look like or to whom I have beholden myself to. It is true; even belly dancers have politics. I also do not have to pit myself in competition against other dancers for scant opportunities and for paltry pay. While some clubs did pay a descent wage, many did not. Almost all of them wanted a specific look, an evening long commitment, at least an illusion of sexual availability, and subservient behaviour.
Now if I want to dance with a band, I will simply hire them!
There is a certain freedom and power in being seasoned and in being older. I get to chose and create my own preferred roles and experiences. My drive is a sense of desire, rather than a sense of desperation. And as the captain of my ship, I can boldly go to where I want to go and steer my own way.
Sleeping With The Cats
I have heard the comment that single women have cats to make up for the lack of physical intimacy with another person. This is probably true. I know I do. I definately appreciate my cats for their warm, furry bodies. I often refer to them as my "bed warmers". My cats will even press their little bodies up against mine. The favorite position seems to be when I am on my side, and one cat (usually my little black and white guy, Pullo, named Pullo Titus, the roman gladiator from the HBO "Rome" series, as he is the Alpha) will curl right up against and into my tummy like a little kitten sleeping against his mommy's belly. Sweet.
My favorite time is when all three of them cuddle up with me and nap together with me. However, this is hardly the case. I might get one or two at a time. Rarely ever all three at once.
I think this is because at least one of them has to be "somewhere else" at all times. My theory is that one cat has to be Standing Guard. They do this when I am in the bathroom as well. At least one cat will stand outside the bathroom door, on guard, facing out. This is a benefit of having more than one cat. I also think it is because that way, God forbid something bad should happen, not ALL of us will suffer or die at once. At least one of the clan will survive to carry on the name.
Cats are strategic like that.
My favorite time is when all three of them cuddle up with me and nap together with me. However, this is hardly the case. I might get one or two at a time. Rarely ever all three at once.
I think this is because at least one of them has to be "somewhere else" at all times. My theory is that one cat has to be Standing Guard. They do this when I am in the bathroom as well. At least one cat will stand outside the bathroom door, on guard, facing out. This is a benefit of having more than one cat. I also think it is because that way, God forbid something bad should happen, not ALL of us will suffer or die at once. At least one of the clan will survive to carry on the name.
Cats are strategic like that.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Please Be Patient
I haven't had sex in over a year. I am not proud of that. I did not plan it. It
just happened that way.
Finally I meet a man with whom I actually felt I could possibly want to have sex with. It's not that I haven't met attractive men lately. I simply haven't had any interest or desire. I'd become a "Nosexual". So, I was pretty happy when I felt my deflated libido raise a degree or two.
We met in a bar. I hardly ever go out. This was a lark. I felt "lucky".
He is nice, attractive, and we exchanged cell numbers. Per the current courtship ritual, we text. For three weeks we text. We have a date. It's a very nice date. We cuddle. He feeds me. He invites me to stay overnight, even offering me the option of sleeping surfaces: the couch, the guest bed, his bed (and he will sleep in the other room, he says, of course). If I was young and looking for "true love" I would have thought this was charming. But, I am not. I am festering with the repressed sexual drive of a woman in her forties and really, I just want to get laid.
I go home. I would have stayed, but I couldn't. I'm mostly a vegetarian and I had eaten his delicious steak dinner and now I had gas. Not sure what the wait period is before you can pass gas with the new man (I am sure that is in the "New Courtship Rituals of the 21st Century" for Dummies book which I meant to pick up at the local Barnes and Noble before they went out of business. Damn. Need that book.)
Another week goes by. Being a belly dancer is tough on the social life. All of my classes and gigs happen in the evenings and weekends. Dating, or finding time to date, can be a challenge. Frankly, it sucks.
We are still texting though! Things might happen!
I make some sort of subtle but clear indication that I am available and interested in having sex. Apparently, this was a bad idea. If I had the "New Courtship Rituals of the 21st Century" for Dummies book, I am sure, it would have told me what to do.
He flat out tells me that he thinks that "rushing into sex is never a good idea." I have to be patient. But all I can think is, well, I haven't been with a man in a very long time. I've BEEN patient.
Suddenly, I have lost my interest in this man. But I still want to have sex.
But at least I am "being patient".
Finally I meet a man with whom I actually felt I could possibly want to have sex with. It's not that I haven't met attractive men lately. I simply haven't had any interest or desire. I'd become a "Nosexual". So, I was pretty happy when I felt my deflated libido raise a degree or two.
We met in a bar. I hardly ever go out. This was a lark. I felt "lucky".
He is nice, attractive, and we exchanged cell numbers. Per the current courtship ritual, we text. For three weeks we text. We have a date. It's a very nice date. We cuddle. He feeds me. He invites me to stay overnight, even offering me the option of sleeping surfaces: the couch, the guest bed, his bed (and he will sleep in the other room, he says, of course). If I was young and looking for "true love" I would have thought this was charming. But, I am not. I am festering with the repressed sexual drive of a woman in her forties and really, I just want to get laid.
I go home. I would have stayed, but I couldn't. I'm mostly a vegetarian and I had eaten his delicious steak dinner and now I had gas. Not sure what the wait period is before you can pass gas with the new man (I am sure that is in the "New Courtship Rituals of the 21st Century" for Dummies book which I meant to pick up at the local Barnes and Noble before they went out of business. Damn. Need that book.)
Another week goes by. Being a belly dancer is tough on the social life. All of my classes and gigs happen in the evenings and weekends. Dating, or finding time to date, can be a challenge. Frankly, it sucks.
We are still texting though! Things might happen!
I make some sort of subtle but clear indication that I am available and interested in having sex. Apparently, this was a bad idea. If I had the "New Courtship Rituals of the 21st Century" for Dummies book, I am sure, it would have told me what to do.
He flat out tells me that he thinks that "rushing into sex is never a good idea." I have to be patient. But all I can think is, well, I haven't been with a man in a very long time. I've BEEN patient.
Suddenly, I have lost my interest in this man. But I still want to have sex.
But at least I am "being patient".
Pass On The Orgasm, Please
I haven't had sex in over a year. I am not proud of that. I did not plan it. It just happened that way. I think I just freaked out. The last guy I had sex with was GREAT in bed. Young, hot, and kept me busy and sweaty ALL NIGHT LONG. What freaked me out were these itty bitty details that, on their own, probably don't seem like deal breakers, but all together, were just too much for me to take.
For one thing, this guy refused to orgasm. That's ok. I've been with men who haven't orgasmed before. Sometimes it's because they have a bad back, or are too drunk (I hate whiskey dick, but it happens). Sometimes they simply don't feel like it. Whatever.
In this case, however, I think it had to do with some sort of zen-yoga philosophy. Something about learning to tolerate whatever thing you are trying to tolerate, so that you can tolerate it some more. I can see that being helpful in some ways. For example, if you suffered third degree burns and had to tolerate skin grafts, or worked as a septic system maintenance man. But tolerating the urge to orgasm, just for the sake of NOT orgasming, just doesn't make sense to me. After all, isn't that the point? Don't get me wrong. I totally understand and agree with the idea that sex is about much more than just the orgasm. But still. If you have the opportunity to orgasm, wouldn't you want to take it? I can understand "putting it off" to pleasure your partner for longer. But to deny having the orgasm utterly and completely, forever and always, even until someone passes out from dehydration and friction burns, seems, well, silly.
Ok, so maybe that isn't quite so "itty bitty" a detail. But there is more...
The man has no drivers licence. He claims he never had one, doesn't need one, and will refuse to get one, again, forever and always. That's ok, I thought. I know people without driver's licences. I've even dated men without driver's licences. Sometimes it's because they live in the city. Sometimes it's because they lost it due to DWI's or traffic tickets.
This was fine until at 3a when we ran out of condoms, and I had to get up and go get more. He'd only brought ONE itty bitty condom with him. Assuming he knows himself, I have to ask, "WHAT WAS HE THINKING?"
The next day, albeit blissfully exhausted, I realized I never, ever wanted to do this again. Great hot sex was simply not worth the effort in this regard. I'd had to pick the guy up, and drop the guy off the next day. I'd had to run out in the middle of the night, by myself. And frankly, I felt a little "left out" in the orgasm department. After all, don't men get upset when they feel like their woman isn't getting off with them, at all, ever, no matter how enjoyable to them they may claim it to be?
There were too many things that boggled my mind. It just didn't make sense to me. All I could think of was that, if I were a guy, I would have, if nothing else in this world, these three things:
1. A drivers licence and a car (or at least access to one).
2. A crib to take a girl home to.
3. More than enough condoms.
Oh yeah, and lots of ORGASMS!!!
For one thing, this guy refused to orgasm. That's ok. I've been with men who haven't orgasmed before. Sometimes it's because they have a bad back, or are too drunk (I hate whiskey dick, but it happens). Sometimes they simply don't feel like it. Whatever.
In this case, however, I think it had to do with some sort of zen-yoga philosophy. Something about learning to tolerate whatever thing you are trying to tolerate, so that you can tolerate it some more. I can see that being helpful in some ways. For example, if you suffered third degree burns and had to tolerate skin grafts, or worked as a septic system maintenance man. But tolerating the urge to orgasm, just for the sake of NOT orgasming, just doesn't make sense to me. After all, isn't that the point? Don't get me wrong. I totally understand and agree with the idea that sex is about much more than just the orgasm. But still. If you have the opportunity to orgasm, wouldn't you want to take it? I can understand "putting it off" to pleasure your partner for longer. But to deny having the orgasm utterly and completely, forever and always, even until someone passes out from dehydration and friction burns, seems, well, silly.
Ok, so maybe that isn't quite so "itty bitty" a detail. But there is more...
The man has no drivers licence. He claims he never had one, doesn't need one, and will refuse to get one, again, forever and always. That's ok, I thought. I know people without driver's licences. I've even dated men without driver's licences. Sometimes it's because they live in the city. Sometimes it's because they lost it due to DWI's or traffic tickets.
This was fine until at 3a when we ran out of condoms, and I had to get up and go get more. He'd only brought ONE itty bitty condom with him. Assuming he knows himself, I have to ask, "WHAT WAS HE THINKING?"
The next day, albeit blissfully exhausted, I realized I never, ever wanted to do this again. Great hot sex was simply not worth the effort in this regard. I'd had to pick the guy up, and drop the guy off the next day. I'd had to run out in the middle of the night, by myself. And frankly, I felt a little "left out" in the orgasm department. After all, don't men get upset when they feel like their woman isn't getting off with them, at all, ever, no matter how enjoyable to them they may claim it to be?
There were too many things that boggled my mind. It just didn't make sense to me. All I could think of was that, if I were a guy, I would have, if nothing else in this world, these three things:
1. A drivers licence and a car (or at least access to one).
2. A crib to take a girl home to.
3. More than enough condoms.
Oh yeah, and lots of ORGASMS!!!
Introduction
My name is Sabrina and I make a living teaching and performing belly dance. That sounds like a very goofy career, I'm sure. Those of us who are very much into what we do, however, take ourselves and what we do very seriously. It has been very rewarding, interesting, and at times, very fun of course. It has also been at times pretty hard, complicated, and exhausting.
Living my life as a belly dancer has been tricky. I have been married and divorced twice, been on a financial roller coaster, and trying to get along and even be friends with other dancers can be rough. Trying to date as a single middle aged and looks-fading woman is just as rough. I spend more time grooming these days, i.e., deforesting the landscape of my body from stray whiskers and strategically placed grey hairs, buying copious amounts of concealer for the ever expanding dark circles under my eyes, and watching everything else begin to deflate, sag, thin, and dull. I used to have a great ass. Now my ass is somewhere between my knees. I stare at it when I am shimmying in front of the mirror as it vibrates and threatens to whack my arthritic knees out from under me. Not fun.
Now that I am single "again", dating is very, well, "odd". I am 43 years old and the courtship rituals of the day have completely changed. Some of my stories are about my experiences and relationships with others as a belly dancer, but a lot of my stories are also about my experiences and relationships with men. What I really need is an Internet dating web site for us old girls who are willing to exchange sexual services for opportunities to date plastic surgeons. Or funeral directors. I simply can't afford to die but if I do, it should be after my next Botox treatment.
Watching my parents grow older, and realizing the importance of family and the meaningfulness of being there for others, has become a big part of my life. I have no children of my own. I have three cats instead. I was always very proud about NOT being a breeder. I spend my time scooping cat poop and collecting tufts of shed fur instead. How noble is that? I am sure some of my stories will involve them, too.
I have decided to start blogging because, well, life has a way of making me an insomniac and if I watch any more Netflix I am going to become permanently adhered to my futon. My skin has become that thin.
Thank you for reading.
Warmly,
Sabrina
Living my life as a belly dancer has been tricky. I have been married and divorced twice, been on a financial roller coaster, and trying to get along and even be friends with other dancers can be rough. Trying to date as a single middle aged and looks-fading woman is just as rough. I spend more time grooming these days, i.e., deforesting the landscape of my body from stray whiskers and strategically placed grey hairs, buying copious amounts of concealer for the ever expanding dark circles under my eyes, and watching everything else begin to deflate, sag, thin, and dull. I used to have a great ass. Now my ass is somewhere between my knees. I stare at it when I am shimmying in front of the mirror as it vibrates and threatens to whack my arthritic knees out from under me. Not fun.
Now that I am single "again", dating is very, well, "odd". I am 43 years old and the courtship rituals of the day have completely changed. Some of my stories are about my experiences and relationships with others as a belly dancer, but a lot of my stories are also about my experiences and relationships with men. What I really need is an Internet dating web site for us old girls who are willing to exchange sexual services for opportunities to date plastic surgeons. Or funeral directors. I simply can't afford to die but if I do, it should be after my next Botox treatment.
Watching my parents grow older, and realizing the importance of family and the meaningfulness of being there for others, has become a big part of my life. I have no children of my own. I have three cats instead. I was always very proud about NOT being a breeder. I spend my time scooping cat poop and collecting tufts of shed fur instead. How noble is that? I am sure some of my stories will involve them, too.
I have decided to start blogging because, well, life has a way of making me an insomniac and if I watch any more Netflix I am going to become permanently adhered to my futon. My skin has become that thin.
Thank you for reading.
Warmly,
Sabrina
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