...Aaaaaaand then I ran into Lachlan after martial arts practice today at a different taco place, and we discussed god and the economy of vital energy in the human body and his kid's developing sense of sarcastic humor. I like that guy. A lot. I wish he liked me back a bit more.
Re: Existential moment: Thinking about it all later, I think that I have a profound lesson to learn from the aloneness. I can't be sure what it means for me right now, but I think it has something to do with figuring out whether I am actually cut out to live by my principles (um, yes), and how I can shape the rest of my life to fit them. I sense a time approaching in which I will need to go deep into myself and possibly face some scary shit.
One detail of the conversation with Lachlan triggered a thought, which triggered others: to what extent can I get away with living in a world of my own imagining, in the land of do-as-you-please? To what extent should I want to? Will it feel like the work I am so intent on now has been wasted if (see: when) my perspective changes? Will change and growth invalidate the experiences I am seeking out? Why the hell would god or whatever it is give me these desires and impulses if I am expected to spend my life suffering the quiet tragedy of self-repression? Would I be less interested in sexual experimentation if I were more creative in some productive and meaningful way, a way that people appreciate more? Where does my creativity lie? What specifically is worth the expenditure of my efforts, and how do I begin to plan for long-term goals? What kind of goal-setting works for me? Was I born lazy? Am I so dull that I can't figure out what I want out of life until it's too late? What spiritual substance can I expect to be able to offer my friends, lovers, and others I meet if I have the attention span of a gnat with so many things and often feel rather thin and insubstantial? Should I even be thinking of these things in terms of what I can do for other people? Is the course of the path I had imagined myself to be on changing? Should I give myself a fucking break or should I get serious? Is love possible? If so, am I capable of truly loving? Do I even have boundaries? What does it mean if I don't? Would my consciousness then just become spread so thinly out over the whole human race that I can never expect to love or be loved in any particular way? If so, would I regret that on my death bed? What, besides sex, am I even passionate about? Is there a problem with being passionate about sex above almost all things? Why does it seem like I have nothing to talk about with "normal" people? Do I lack empathy? How does one cultivate empathy? Have I got it all wrong?
So you see, my brain is a cacophony of this sort of thing at the moment. This must be how Caleb feels.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
In Which a Moment of Doubt and Anxiety Confounds Our Protagonist
First off, I need to post a link to my buddy Dan's brand new blog right here.
It seems like Sordid Wisdom may shape up to have a very similar sort of aim to Carnal Porridge. So, if you're into personal blogs about poly life that don't mince on the icky and sexy bits and/or you enjoy CP at all, I imagine that Dan's blog will be right up your...what do they call those dark narrow passages again? Anyway, Dan, we're watching you. Write all the time, dude, and try to live a life worth writing about. And for fuck's sake come off that mountain and come see me and Simon sometime.
I would also like to direct your attention to this blog post from the studio of sculptor Alex Irvine. The post details the process of creating the breathtakingly gorgeous flaming sculpture that was unveiled on the night of the temple burn at Transformus. I watched this thing burn for hours. The process that the team went through to make it all happen is intriguing, too. Checkit.
On to the brief point: I am having a mood, reader. As I lay in bed beside Simon last night feeling like I couldn't possibly be farther away from him, I had a moment of existential terror and felt very, very alone. And today I still feel very alone. I know that I have to learn how to feel this gracefully. I guess I'll have my chance in September.
That's all.
It seems like Sordid Wisdom may shape up to have a very similar sort of aim to Carnal Porridge. So, if you're into personal blogs about poly life that don't mince on the icky and sexy bits and/or you enjoy CP at all, I imagine that Dan's blog will be right up your...what do they call those dark narrow passages again? Anyway, Dan, we're watching you. Write all the time, dude, and try to live a life worth writing about. And for fuck's sake come off that mountain and come see me and Simon sometime.
I would also like to direct your attention to this blog post from the studio of sculptor Alex Irvine. The post details the process of creating the breathtakingly gorgeous flaming sculpture that was unveiled on the night of the temple burn at Transformus. I watched this thing burn for hours. The process that the team went through to make it all happen is intriguing, too. Checkit.
On to the brief point: I am having a mood, reader. As I lay in bed beside Simon last night feeling like I couldn't possibly be farther away from him, I had a moment of existential terror and felt very, very alone. And today I still feel very alone. I know that I have to learn how to feel this gracefully. I guess I'll have my chance in September.
That's all.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
In Which Carnita and Lachlan Have Tacos
I left Lachlan a clever voice mail over the weekend: "This is a public service message for Lachlan MacMurray from the offices of the Department of Friends With Benefits. We would like to arrange a friendly meet and greet luncheon with you sometime this week at your convenience..."
So he met me for lunch today at a great little taco shop right down the street from his studio. It was fine and friendly. He asked how Simon is doing, I asked how his son is doing, and we talked about Transformus.
The only remarkable thing about it to me is noticing how capable I was of feeling quite jealous over him. I asked if he planned to go to the annual post-Transformus dance party redux this weekend, and he said that of course he will go but he already has a date. I got more uncomfortable than I would have thought when I heard this, and I started to revise my whole plan to go. The idea of seeing him with another woman--who no doubt is likely to demand exclusivity from him soon--made my stomach churn and my eyes flush with fire. I don't like that feeling at all.
As we were saying goodbye...
Lachlan: You should come! There will be lots of other fun people there. Why don't you want to go?
Me: Well, it's like this. I am not above jealousy. I am capable of feeling it, just less than most people do and with a stronger commitment never to act on it. I feel like seeing you with another woman so soon could trigger that.
And then, bafflingly, he smiles?? Not sure how to take that. But then he diverted the conversation to an explanation of who she is, and he sortof noncommittally said that he didn't think he would be okay with it if she asked him not to see other people at this point. And then, he says, "I really had an amazing time with you at Transformus. That's some of the best sex I've ever had in my life." Yeah, Lachlan, I know. We were both there, and it was earth-shakingly hot. I definitely remember.
After he left, I didn't feel like I'd said quite everything I meant to, so the ensuing text message exchange went as follows:
Me: Yep, I'd certainly be pleased if you waited a minute on promising things to someone. I don't feel at all finished with your body.
Lachlan: Sweet, fair enough!
Me: I have no real negotiation power I realize, but I'm asking for the gift of your consideration, friend.
...And I do so hope that he keeps himself out from under the monogamy knife for a while yet. I don't know whether to go to this party and risk getting confused and feeling lonely. i
Getting involved with monogs people is stressful. After I work out the rest of my story with him, I might have to call it quits on playing with fire like this. But in my defense, I did set out a few months ago with the express purpose of doing a lot of experiential learning and experimentation that I know very well can earn me some scars. I need to learn, though, so bring it on.
So he met me for lunch today at a great little taco shop right down the street from his studio. It was fine and friendly. He asked how Simon is doing, I asked how his son is doing, and we talked about Transformus.
The only remarkable thing about it to me is noticing how capable I was of feeling quite jealous over him. I asked if he planned to go to the annual post-Transformus dance party redux this weekend, and he said that of course he will go but he already has a date. I got more uncomfortable than I would have thought when I heard this, and I started to revise my whole plan to go. The idea of seeing him with another woman--who no doubt is likely to demand exclusivity from him soon--made my stomach churn and my eyes flush with fire. I don't like that feeling at all.
As we were saying goodbye...
Lachlan: You should come! There will be lots of other fun people there. Why don't you want to go?
Me: Well, it's like this. I am not above jealousy. I am capable of feeling it, just less than most people do and with a stronger commitment never to act on it. I feel like seeing you with another woman so soon could trigger that.
And then, bafflingly, he smiles?? Not sure how to take that. But then he diverted the conversation to an explanation of who she is, and he sortof noncommittally said that he didn't think he would be okay with it if she asked him not to see other people at this point. And then, he says, "I really had an amazing time with you at Transformus. That's some of the best sex I've ever had in my life." Yeah, Lachlan, I know. We were both there, and it was earth-shakingly hot. I definitely remember.
After he left, I didn't feel like I'd said quite everything I meant to, so the ensuing text message exchange went as follows:
Me: Yep, I'd certainly be pleased if you waited a minute on promising things to someone. I don't feel at all finished with your body.
Lachlan: Sweet, fair enough!
Me: I have no real negotiation power I realize, but I'm asking for the gift of your consideration, friend.
...And I do so hope that he keeps himself out from under the monogamy knife for a while yet. I don't know whether to go to this party and risk getting confused and feeling lonely. i
Getting involved with monogs people is stressful. After I work out the rest of my story with him, I might have to call it quits on playing with fire like this. But in my defense, I did set out a few months ago with the express purpose of doing a lot of experiential learning and experimentation that I know very well can earn me some scars. I need to learn, though, so bring it on.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
In Which Carnita Elaborates on Leadership and Jealousy in an Epistle of Some Import
It is annoying that I can't hand-write a letter without having to type it out again if I want to have a record of it. I do so love writing letters the old-fashioned way. And so here are a few portions of the letter I just wrote, with lacunae marked by ellipses. (Duh)
---------------------
Dear Caleb,
[...] I've thought about you today. We saw each other last night, and I felt hopeful but not overly expectant about things, and then I told Simon about it. It meant a great deal to me that his assessment was basically that your story sounds legit and my telling of it sounds sane and rational. I value his opinion about these matters, and he has given his blessing. He just cares and doesn't want me to get hurt, but he also knows that I don't have the typical (or is it?) female response to the idea of being "protected," and so he has long since known that he can't protect me. There isn't a person in the world who is qualified for that job. Anyway, I am very pleased that you appear to be back in my life in some way or other, and that both of us have had some enormous learning experiences in the interim. I regret that your experience with Beth had to be such an unpleasant one. Nevertheless, I hope you'll have the wisdom and insight about what you went through to focus less on blaming and interrogating yourself and more on acceptance, healing, and learning.
That reminds me: when I was fifteen or so, I made this patch for my shoulder bag that read, "Oh, EVOLVE already!" I thought it was very clever at the time, but now I realize that I tell myself something similar every day. When I talk about these things--all the ideas about attaining a new collective consciousness and overcoming our baser natures--with my friend Tim, he becomes convinced that we are some kind of harbingers of a new order, possibly something to do with all the 2012 hype. But I say that's baloney because Hitler and his sort have always flattered themselves with similar notions. Truly great leaders, I would assume, never intended to lead anyone, but perhaps rather set out to become their own masters and encourage others to do the same. Right? I don't know. Huge paradoxes loom.
I realized today that I forgot to speak up about something when we were talking late last night. More than likely the oversight had something to do with the fact that your lips and eyelashes are always conspiring to hypnotize me and make me forget things. Anyhow, the thing I forgot to say came up after you said that you understood the space between us to be a "jealousy-free zone." While that is a noble sentiment and experience may well prove you correct in amazing, beautiful, inspiring ways, I still feel the need to refer back to a guiding principle of honest poly relationship politics: if the goal is never to lie and to try very hard to own one's responsibility for how one feels at the same time, then there has to be room for accepting jealous feelings if they arise. Like I said, they may never come up. But if they do, then please just remember (and I will do the same) that this is still another thing that people cannot, should not lie about. And neither is jealousy a deal-breaker. In fact, a relationship that it never touches is either a miraculous rarity or, perhaps in some way, not much of a relationship at all. The point is not to avoid jealousy, but rather to acknowledge it openly but try very hard never to act on it. Does that make sense? Furthermore, if people were more open about exploring their jealousy triggers, then the likelihood of being able to resolve the feelings is much greater.
For example, Joe Shmoe first experiences a generalized thing he calls jealousy when his lover Jean Dean falls for someone else. Next time he sees Jean, he tells her that he has been struggling with some jealousy since she started seeing Ron Jon. She loves him and is sorry that he is distressed, so she asks him for further elaboration about how he feels, and she maintains a willingness to hear him out and negotiate with him if necessary (much easier because Joe is not blaming Jean for how he feels). As they discuss things further, the source of jealousy becomes clearer: is this thing that Joe at first could only call "jealousy" actually insecurity about Jean's love for him? If so, then Jean tries to figure out what she can do to reassure him that he is loved and respected and considered. Or perhaps the jealousy isn't jealousy at all but envy, because Joe's relationship with Sally ended a month ago and he still feels lonely, so he wishes that he had a new flame like Jean does. If so, Joe has some work to do and probably needs to reconnect with some friends. Or if Joe discovers that he is actually experiencing sexual jealousy, he needs to revisit the notion of possessiveness and renew his commitment to banishing that bullshit from his spirit.
Anyway, I risk sounding awfully didactic if I continue, and that is not my intention. After all, I need to remind myself of these things all the time. But my overarching point is that it is unwise to assume that the potential for jealousy is ever simply off the table, even if you (or I) are not experiencing it at the moment.
[...] I look forward to falling prey to your insidious facial conspiracies again soon. Kissing you feels a little like tumbling into a deep velvety pocket with a fluffy trampoline inside. I remember how delicious the rest of you is, too, but I'll try not to expect too much too soon in that arena. It matters much more to me that I get to be near you at all than whether I get to take off your pants. That said, I would be very pleased to take off your pants again. Boy would I. *Melt*
Come September, I will be able to arrange to have my bed to myself if I have some notice. I would be honored for you to sleep in it with me sometime.
Sincerely,
Carn
-------------------
...And now I'll send it. I hope it is well-received. Good night, lovelies.
---------------------
Dear Caleb,
[...] I've thought about you today. We saw each other last night, and I felt hopeful but not overly expectant about things, and then I told Simon about it. It meant a great deal to me that his assessment was basically that your story sounds legit and my telling of it sounds sane and rational. I value his opinion about these matters, and he has given his blessing. He just cares and doesn't want me to get hurt, but he also knows that I don't have the typical (or is it?) female response to the idea of being "protected," and so he has long since known that he can't protect me. There isn't a person in the world who is qualified for that job. Anyway, I am very pleased that you appear to be back in my life in some way or other, and that both of us have had some enormous learning experiences in the interim. I regret that your experience with Beth had to be such an unpleasant one. Nevertheless, I hope you'll have the wisdom and insight about what you went through to focus less on blaming and interrogating yourself and more on acceptance, healing, and learning.
That reminds me: when I was fifteen or so, I made this patch for my shoulder bag that read, "Oh, EVOLVE already!" I thought it was very clever at the time, but now I realize that I tell myself something similar every day. When I talk about these things--all the ideas about attaining a new collective consciousness and overcoming our baser natures--with my friend Tim, he becomes convinced that we are some kind of harbingers of a new order, possibly something to do with all the 2012 hype. But I say that's baloney because Hitler and his sort have always flattered themselves with similar notions. Truly great leaders, I would assume, never intended to lead anyone, but perhaps rather set out to become their own masters and encourage others to do the same. Right? I don't know. Huge paradoxes loom.
I realized today that I forgot to speak up about something when we were talking late last night. More than likely the oversight had something to do with the fact that your lips and eyelashes are always conspiring to hypnotize me and make me forget things. Anyhow, the thing I forgot to say came up after you said that you understood the space between us to be a "jealousy-free zone." While that is a noble sentiment and experience may well prove you correct in amazing, beautiful, inspiring ways, I still feel the need to refer back to a guiding principle of honest poly relationship politics: if the goal is never to lie and to try very hard to own one's responsibility for how one feels at the same time, then there has to be room for accepting jealous feelings if they arise. Like I said, they may never come up. But if they do, then please just remember (and I will do the same) that this is still another thing that people cannot, should not lie about. And neither is jealousy a deal-breaker. In fact, a relationship that it never touches is either a miraculous rarity or, perhaps in some way, not much of a relationship at all. The point is not to avoid jealousy, but rather to acknowledge it openly but try very hard never to act on it. Does that make sense? Furthermore, if people were more open about exploring their jealousy triggers, then the likelihood of being able to resolve the feelings is much greater.
For example, Joe Shmoe first experiences a generalized thing he calls jealousy when his lover Jean Dean falls for someone else. Next time he sees Jean, he tells her that he has been struggling with some jealousy since she started seeing Ron Jon. She loves him and is sorry that he is distressed, so she asks him for further elaboration about how he feels, and she maintains a willingness to hear him out and negotiate with him if necessary (much easier because Joe is not blaming Jean for how he feels). As they discuss things further, the source of jealousy becomes clearer: is this thing that Joe at first could only call "jealousy" actually insecurity about Jean's love for him? If so, then Jean tries to figure out what she can do to reassure him that he is loved and respected and considered. Or perhaps the jealousy isn't jealousy at all but envy, because Joe's relationship with Sally ended a month ago and he still feels lonely, so he wishes that he had a new flame like Jean does. If so, Joe has some work to do and probably needs to reconnect with some friends. Or if Joe discovers that he is actually experiencing sexual jealousy, he needs to revisit the notion of possessiveness and renew his commitment to banishing that bullshit from his spirit.
Anyway, I risk sounding awfully didactic if I continue, and that is not my intention. After all, I need to remind myself of these things all the time. But my overarching point is that it is unwise to assume that the potential for jealousy is ever simply off the table, even if you (or I) are not experiencing it at the moment.
[...] I look forward to falling prey to your insidious facial conspiracies again soon. Kissing you feels a little like tumbling into a deep velvety pocket with a fluffy trampoline inside. I remember how delicious the rest of you is, too, but I'll try not to expect too much too soon in that arena. It matters much more to me that I get to be near you at all than whether I get to take off your pants. That said, I would be very pleased to take off your pants again. Boy would I. *Melt*
Come September, I will be able to arrange to have my bed to myself if I have some notice. I would be honored for you to sleep in it with me sometime.
Sincerely,
Carn
-------------------
...And now I'll send it. I hope it is well-received. Good night, lovelies.
In Which Our Sweet, Sexy Basket Case Returns
Written last night:
Reader, you'll never guess what I am doing right now. Would you like to try? I'll give you a hint: I am waiting to meet up with someone with whom I had begun to assume that the story was over.
I have no idea what is going to happen in my guts when Caleb walks through the door. I have been nervous and jittery all day, and as you may have realized, this is an uncommon modality for me.
I would like to pause and welcome my one and only die-hard follower, my poly friend and confidante despite the fact that we barely know one another in the real world, to the blogosphere. We'll call you Dan. Hi, Dan! (Apologies if you don't like the name; I'll happily change it, but your real name was already taken.) I can't wait to see what comes out of you in this expressive format. It is in many ways even less glorious than writing in a middle school diary with a shitty aluminum lock decorated with purple glitter and galloping ponies, but hey, I find it helpful to imagine that at least someone is reading, and I have you alone to thank for that at this point. So I raise my glass to you, um, Dan, and wish you a fulfilling and liberating experience. I will eagerly follow you and faithfully keep your secrets as you keep mine. Just make sure there are plenty of dirty ones.
Back to Caleb. I don't usually have to struggle so hard to resist the temptation to premeditate an interaction. I have had moments of deep nervousness about this today, especially given the entirely ambiguous wordings of his reconnection efforts. He actually wrote in one e-mail, "Feel free to make moves." I can't tell if that was frank or just incredibly immature. Simon's wise counsel was to just keep my eyes peeled and hang back a bit, observe him and try to discern his intentions.
So there isn't much else to report. I suppose I rather skimmed over the fact that I had a lovely time hanging out and making out with Zeke in a park a few nights ago. The oversight had less to do with a lack of significance and more to do with timing. But then again, something about that situation is getting very cozy and comfortable, almost like a given part of life.
It's about time for Caleb to show, so I'm signing off for now. More to come.
----------------------------
Fast forward to the present. Caleb came to meet me, albeit quite a bit later than we had originally planned, but I know of this problem of his. He dallies and rarely makes good time, and then he gets flustered and makes a big scene over how "you would think I am TRYING to make people angry, but I'm really not" etc. etc. It's a crazy dude thing, I guess.
Yes, he and his pathology are really quite a silly obsessed couple, and in order to enjoy his company, I sometimes have to stop listening to the neurotic, self-deprecating drivel and just watch his beautiful lips for a while. I don't necessarily find this to be inconsistent with honest and fulfilling relationships, however. After all, I have to tune Simon out for a while at least three times a day in order to keep my blood pressure stable. With Caleb it is much the same.
So the meeting started out rather awkwardly, without much eye contact or connection seeming to happen. After a while, we took a walk and broke into a few church yards. At some point as we were standing in front of a big red wooden door and talking about how Jesus gets the best buildings and how weird that is, he comes in to kiss me. I am reminded of what a brilliantly talented lover he is. I stop him pretty soon, though, and ask, "Really, Caleb? Again?"
And then he really started to talk. He explained that back when he disappeared, he had been so embarrassed about keeping a vital piece of information from me that he had just kept on guarding it until now. When he told me what it was, I was baffled by how such a thing could make him so nervous: basically, he was not totally finished with another woman and was aware that she might come to visit sometime soon. Really, a simple apology would have worked, but he was really stressed out about it. He had been somewhat traumatized by the awful circumstances of the woman's visit, and blah blah blah. I just had to console myself with his lips.
Then he gave a fairly long speech professing his admiration and respect for me and stating his intention to learn from my example a better way of interacting with other people. This was all very flattering, and he seemed very sincere, but I told him (and meant it) that while he is welcome in my inner circle, I will believe him when I see the evidence. After all, he's sortof crazy.
The evening ended with a short, sexy makeout behind a bush. That man's touch makes me feel like I am sinking into velvet. I wrapped my legs behind his back, and he held me up so steadily....mmmrrow. Manflesh.
So, let's pause for a summary of what is happening:
I have three lovers in addition to my primary partner, who himself is also my lover and becoming more desirable to me every day.
They all know about each other (except that Zeke is a little in the dark for a few days until I can see him again) and consent to the circumstance we are all involved in.
I feel entirely differently about each of the four men. I care for and desire them all. I feel increasingly comfortable going from one world to another, and I spend no less energy building a distinct connection with each one. My memory for details about people's lives, interests, and perspectives is improving dramatically as a result.
Odd factoid: all three of my other lovers have a young child. Coincidence? I hope to get to know all of their children better eventually.
I feel the love in me multiplying, and I feel my creative energy increasing. I have started getting really passionate about Tarot and archetypal psychology again. I have an abundance of attention for most of my pursuits most of the time. I feel like I am getting closer and closer to the sense of liberty that I am seeking. Now, let's see if I can hold steady at the eye of the storm for a while.
Reader, you'll never guess what I am doing right now. Would you like to try? I'll give you a hint: I am waiting to meet up with someone with whom I had begun to assume that the story was over.
I have no idea what is going to happen in my guts when Caleb walks through the door. I have been nervous and jittery all day, and as you may have realized, this is an uncommon modality for me.
I would like to pause and welcome my one and only die-hard follower, my poly friend and confidante despite the fact that we barely know one another in the real world, to the blogosphere. We'll call you Dan. Hi, Dan! (Apologies if you don't like the name; I'll happily change it, but your real name was already taken.) I can't wait to see what comes out of you in this expressive format. It is in many ways even less glorious than writing in a middle school diary with a shitty aluminum lock decorated with purple glitter and galloping ponies, but hey, I find it helpful to imagine that at least someone is reading, and I have you alone to thank for that at this point. So I raise my glass to you, um, Dan, and wish you a fulfilling and liberating experience. I will eagerly follow you and faithfully keep your secrets as you keep mine. Just make sure there are plenty of dirty ones.
Back to Caleb. I don't usually have to struggle so hard to resist the temptation to premeditate an interaction. I have had moments of deep nervousness about this today, especially given the entirely ambiguous wordings of his reconnection efforts. He actually wrote in one e-mail, "Feel free to make moves." I can't tell if that was frank or just incredibly immature. Simon's wise counsel was to just keep my eyes peeled and hang back a bit, observe him and try to discern his intentions.
So there isn't much else to report. I suppose I rather skimmed over the fact that I had a lovely time hanging out and making out with Zeke in a park a few nights ago. The oversight had less to do with a lack of significance and more to do with timing. But then again, something about that situation is getting very cozy and comfortable, almost like a given part of life.
It's about time for Caleb to show, so I'm signing off for now. More to come.
----------------------------
Fast forward to the present. Caleb came to meet me, albeit quite a bit later than we had originally planned, but I know of this problem of his. He dallies and rarely makes good time, and then he gets flustered and makes a big scene over how "you would think I am TRYING to make people angry, but I'm really not" etc. etc. It's a crazy dude thing, I guess.
Yes, he and his pathology are really quite a silly obsessed couple, and in order to enjoy his company, I sometimes have to stop listening to the neurotic, self-deprecating drivel and just watch his beautiful lips for a while. I don't necessarily find this to be inconsistent with honest and fulfilling relationships, however. After all, I have to tune Simon out for a while at least three times a day in order to keep my blood pressure stable. With Caleb it is much the same.
So the meeting started out rather awkwardly, without much eye contact or connection seeming to happen. After a while, we took a walk and broke into a few church yards. At some point as we were standing in front of a big red wooden door and talking about how Jesus gets the best buildings and how weird that is, he comes in to kiss me. I am reminded of what a brilliantly talented lover he is. I stop him pretty soon, though, and ask, "Really, Caleb? Again?"
And then he really started to talk. He explained that back when he disappeared, he had been so embarrassed about keeping a vital piece of information from me that he had just kept on guarding it until now. When he told me what it was, I was baffled by how such a thing could make him so nervous: basically, he was not totally finished with another woman and was aware that she might come to visit sometime soon. Really, a simple apology would have worked, but he was really stressed out about it. He had been somewhat traumatized by the awful circumstances of the woman's visit, and blah blah blah. I just had to console myself with his lips.
Then he gave a fairly long speech professing his admiration and respect for me and stating his intention to learn from my example a better way of interacting with other people. This was all very flattering, and he seemed very sincere, but I told him (and meant it) that while he is welcome in my inner circle, I will believe him when I see the evidence. After all, he's sortof crazy.
The evening ended with a short, sexy makeout behind a bush. That man's touch makes me feel like I am sinking into velvet. I wrapped my legs behind his back, and he held me up so steadily....mmmrrow. Manflesh.
So, let's pause for a summary of what is happening:
I have three lovers in addition to my primary partner, who himself is also my lover and becoming more desirable to me every day.
They all know about each other (except that Zeke is a little in the dark for a few days until I can see him again) and consent to the circumstance we are all involved in.
I feel entirely differently about each of the four men. I care for and desire them all. I feel increasingly comfortable going from one world to another, and I spend no less energy building a distinct connection with each one. My memory for details about people's lives, interests, and perspectives is improving dramatically as a result.
Odd factoid: all three of my other lovers have a young child. Coincidence? I hope to get to know all of their children better eventually.
I feel the love in me multiplying, and I feel my creative energy increasing. I have started getting really passionate about Tarot and archetypal psychology again. I have an abundance of attention for most of my pursuits most of the time. I feel like I am getting closer and closer to the sense of liberty that I am seeking. Now, let's see if I can hold steady at the eye of the storm for a while.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
In Which Living Arrangements Are Discussed
My conversation with Simon went better than expected, but had a rather dramatic outcome: he has decided to sublet a separate living space for at least a couple of months starting in September. It's already a pretty done deal, too. I called a former room mate of mine today whom I knew was unlikely to have a tenant, and she is all for it. So, you ask, why this?
Simon has been in the process of realizing that he needs to take his current mental health situation seriously in order to heal and figure out if our divergent life goals can be commensurable. I am very proud of his self-possession about this although he clearly has the persistent worry that I don't trust his judgement about his mental health needs. I can see why he thinks that I don't respect the seriousness of his condition--I am outspokenly anti-Big Pharma, and I always urge him to think long and hard before beginning to take drugs for mental health issues. Nevertheless, the very valid point was made that I have never had to deal with suicidal depression, it's not my life that's on the line, etc. And so I have reached a place where I can be unreservedly supportive despite my misgivings.
Our intention is to spend that time doing a lot of soul-searching and self-discovery with our time apart, and then to come back together and see what works for both of us. He wants to remove himself from these trigger situations that I keep throwing at him and focus on himself; I want to have time to calm the stress and anxiety that our relationship is bringing to my life.
The other less practical but more exciting probable outcome is that we get to fall in love with each other again. I feel pretty certain that some time and distance will remind us both of why we fell in love in the first place, and we will have the chance to reignite our spark.
The other obvious benefit to me is that I can have the chance to work out some of the slutty desires without fear of judgement, and perhaps arrive at a better understanding of how my sexuality figures into the sense of personal liberation that has become so important to me in these past few months. I am on a quest that I think I can only fully undertake alone for a while, and that will require me to have the freedom to focus on my process of experimentation. I am just so happy that we are a little closer to figuring out a solution that works for both of us, and we probably won't have to lose each other in the process.
In other news, Lachlan and I have a lunch date planned for next week. Let's see if the magic is still there when we're back in Camp Reality.
Simon has been in the process of realizing that he needs to take his current mental health situation seriously in order to heal and figure out if our divergent life goals can be commensurable. I am very proud of his self-possession about this although he clearly has the persistent worry that I don't trust his judgement about his mental health needs. I can see why he thinks that I don't respect the seriousness of his condition--I am outspokenly anti-Big Pharma, and I always urge him to think long and hard before beginning to take drugs for mental health issues. Nevertheless, the very valid point was made that I have never had to deal with suicidal depression, it's not my life that's on the line, etc. And so I have reached a place where I can be unreservedly supportive despite my misgivings.
Our intention is to spend that time doing a lot of soul-searching and self-discovery with our time apart, and then to come back together and see what works for both of us. He wants to remove himself from these trigger situations that I keep throwing at him and focus on himself; I want to have time to calm the stress and anxiety that our relationship is bringing to my life.
The other less practical but more exciting probable outcome is that we get to fall in love with each other again. I feel pretty certain that some time and distance will remind us both of why we fell in love in the first place, and we will have the chance to reignite our spark.
The other obvious benefit to me is that I can have the chance to work out some of the slutty desires without fear of judgement, and perhaps arrive at a better understanding of how my sexuality figures into the sense of personal liberation that has become so important to me in these past few months. I am on a quest that I think I can only fully undertake alone for a while, and that will require me to have the freedom to focus on my process of experimentation. I am just so happy that we are a little closer to figuring out a solution that works for both of us, and we probably won't have to lose each other in the process.
In other news, Lachlan and I have a lunch date planned for next week. Let's see if the magic is still there when we're back in Camp Reality.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
In Which Harriet and Carnita Have an Amazing Burn but Incur the Wrath of Zeke and Simon for Naughty Behavior, and Lachlan Returns...Oh Boy Does He.
I am so exhausted that I can barely hold myself up today. Harriet and I returned from Transformus yesterday morning, both of us running on very little of sleep or food or hours of sobriety, and both of us anticipating long, difficult discussions with our partners about our respective decisions to break our agreements about sexual boundaries. We were bad, bad girls...
The whole burn experience was positively magical, as you may know if you have ever attended one, and so it was more than worth the exhaustion and whatever amount of work it takes to navigate the emotional jungles I've created for Simon and me. I actually do feel transformed--like the architecture of my psyche has shifted, my ego has withdrawn its nasty tentacles from the beams, and a couple of doors have been permanently knocked off their hinges, never to shut again. I have an open heart and wide eyes and a song that doesn't seem to want to let go of my hips. I've been dancing instead of walking.
The trouble is that the default world now seems so puny and mired in delusion. It is hard to take some of the problems that have arisen between Simon and me as seriously as he would like me to because I just know that ultimately there are more important things to concern ourselves with. Not just me and him, but our whole fucking species. Our relationship problems seem so petty up against the larger objective of acting to bring on the great consciousness shift so that we can get free. Freedom and simple human connection seem like the most important things to me right now, but I have to suck it up and figure out how to be open and cooperative while Simon vents his frustrations. I also must violate the peace and quiet I have in my mind in order to find ways to articulate what seems to be so whole and real until it gets carved up with words. It all feels quite terrible and stressful and unduly heavy.
I hope that our relationship can survive my recently-developed allergy to heaviness. The lighter I become, the heavier he seems to become. It has the effect of hardening my heart towards him, making my blood pressure rise whenever he comes into a room, and making me rather dread being alone with him. It sounds so terrible to say, but this is my truth lately. Can we make it? Can I reverse this cycle? These questions are haunting me more persistently than I would like. I need to spend some time channelling my guardian. Maybe she will have the wisdom to figure out how to turn things around.
For the record, I realize that I sound terribly selfish right now, but I am also acutely aware of how fucking short life is and how young I am. Moreover, I find the reasoning that would suggest I need to live my life in service of other people's insecurities to be incredibly, crushingly, profoundly unconvincing right now. Know what I mean?
ON TO JOYOUS THINGS!
I didn't intend to sleep with Lachlan before I went to Transformus. Really! I didn't! I had thought to myself, "Self, his desires are just never going to match up enough with yours. You'll just never understand each other quite enough, and furthermore, he probably won't make the effort to do so anyway. Therefore, do not sleep with him. We do not want another Thomas in our lives."
And so I voluntarily agreed to restrict my sexual activity to some loosely-defined "making out" type of thing. Reader, this was a mistake. First, when I made this agreement, I was assuming so much that turned out not to be true. For instance, I had assumed that Lachlan was just too focused on getting in my pants to be interested in communicating with me adequately. I knew I needed reassurance about a few things, like his ability to maintain friendships with current or ex lovers, his comprehension of what I am and am not looking for with him, and his willingness to be as honest about his perspective.
The first night, he didn't have the time or energy for it because he was tending to his lovely sculpture and dancing and trying to find a hookup. I did grab him and kiss him hard, which captivated his attention for a bit, but he was pretty clear about only being interested in going tentward if I was down to fuck. I appreciated the stubborn honesty...I'll try to elaborate more later about Lachlan's peculiar sort of grace which might appear, to the untrained eye, as rudeness. To this girl, his "rudeness" is like a breath of cool, clean air on a swampy day. I have so much respect for him after this weekend. He is not only one of the hottest guys (to my particular taste) in my world; he is honest, super enthusiastically sex-positive, uninhibited, fucking amazing in bed, and just sweet enough to get away with being such a slut. His shamelessness is inspiring.
(Grammar nerd aside: parallelism just disintegrated in the worst way. Apologies.)
Anyway, so the next evening, the night of the big burn, my sexy ginger found me and stayed with me and talked to me for a very long time about what it would and would not mean for us to tangle, whether I could justify "breaking the rules" for him, and what would happen afterwards. With this lovely balance of his, he managed to reassure me completely without once coddling or pandering. He showed that he cared without overstating anything. He seems to be as allergic to lying as I am. Basically, God's gift to sluts! In fact, I told him that I would be happy to write an endorsement for his Sex and Relationships Resume.
I keep getting sidetracked from the story. So I made my decision and tried to send Simon some sort of telepathic love and apology-for-the-sweet-sin-I-am-about-to-commit message. I went back to my camp, got pretty, and went back out to dance and find Lachlan. We negotiated a bit more as we walked towards his tent:
Lachlan: Just so you know, I am need to come back out later. I have to take care of the sculpture because it could explode if I don't. Plus, my friend has some drugs for me. This will not be bedtime sex.
Me: That is fine, but I really don't want to be rushed because I have been thinking about getting you naked for a long fucking time. I need to explore you more than an hour's worth. Oh look, it's my friend's car.
(I push him hard up against the car, kiss him deeply, and whisper something dirty in his ear.)
Lachlan: Okay. Alright. No rush.
When we get to the tent, I eagerly peel off his costume and lay him down. He's sortof talkative in bed, apparently, and he keeps exclaiming little appreciative nothings as I climb all over him, kiss him everywhere, flip him over and massage his back, flip him back over and suck his cock...I was so thrilled to have his body all to myself, to have the freedom to touch him anywhere and any way, that I got totally absorbed in the act of exploring him and trying to make him moan. I was so happy with this arrangement that I had trouble giving up the reins when he flipped me on my back.
But damn, he's great with his hands! For the first time ever, a man finds my G-spot! I have never quite been able to get my hands into the right position to find it myself, so I was beginning to doubt its existence. But Lachlan finds it, and finds it, and finds it again until I am almost screaming, almost can't stand it. Then he pauses to grab a condom, throws my legs over his shoulders, and stuffs his cock in me. It feels huge, which doesn't make any sense because he's no monster. So I realize that he has somehow managed to fit two fingers in me at the same time as his not-insignificant cock so that he can continue to stroke my insides.
Mind-blowing hotness, I tell you. And he is so complimentary and attentive and focused the whole time that when we collapse after some two hours or so, I have to just thank him and kiss the corners of his eyes over and over. My loins hurt so sweetly for the next 48 hours! Hot, hot, hot. I can't praise him enough.
It felt amazing, he took great care of me, and I felt emotionally clear afterwards. So perhaps, reader, you can sympathize somewhat with my decision. I really, really needed what Lachlan gifted to me. I felt so fortunate to be able to see, live and in motion, what it looks and feels like when two adult friends have mad lust AND serious respect and tenderness for one another. I was also totally inspired by his lack of shame. I want to be more like him when I grow up.
Simon will forgive me. I think he already has, but he still feels the need to verbalize more about it. Like, probably a lot more. But I knew that was what I was signing myself up for when I zipped that tent flap behind me, and I can't possibly regret it even if Simon lays down a "no more Lachlan" rule. By refusing to see me until I speak to Simon, Lachlan himself laid down the law a bit. (He also sent me a text asking that I apologize to Simon for him. Cute, I know, but a little odd.) Boundaries are returning in some capacity from both sides.
Meanwhile, I think that Zeke is pretty upset with Harriet right now. I will be more than happy to try to console him sometime soon. I think I know just the thing...
Ha! I love my life, even though it is a drag sometimes.
The whole burn experience was positively magical, as you may know if you have ever attended one, and so it was more than worth the exhaustion and whatever amount of work it takes to navigate the emotional jungles I've created for Simon and me. I actually do feel transformed--like the architecture of my psyche has shifted, my ego has withdrawn its nasty tentacles from the beams, and a couple of doors have been permanently knocked off their hinges, never to shut again. I have an open heart and wide eyes and a song that doesn't seem to want to let go of my hips. I've been dancing instead of walking.
The trouble is that the default world now seems so puny and mired in delusion. It is hard to take some of the problems that have arisen between Simon and me as seriously as he would like me to because I just know that ultimately there are more important things to concern ourselves with. Not just me and him, but our whole fucking species. Our relationship problems seem so petty up against the larger objective of acting to bring on the great consciousness shift so that we can get free. Freedom and simple human connection seem like the most important things to me right now, but I have to suck it up and figure out how to be open and cooperative while Simon vents his frustrations. I also must violate the peace and quiet I have in my mind in order to find ways to articulate what seems to be so whole and real until it gets carved up with words. It all feels quite terrible and stressful and unduly heavy.
I hope that our relationship can survive my recently-developed allergy to heaviness. The lighter I become, the heavier he seems to become. It has the effect of hardening my heart towards him, making my blood pressure rise whenever he comes into a room, and making me rather dread being alone with him. It sounds so terrible to say, but this is my truth lately. Can we make it? Can I reverse this cycle? These questions are haunting me more persistently than I would like. I need to spend some time channelling my guardian. Maybe she will have the wisdom to figure out how to turn things around.
For the record, I realize that I sound terribly selfish right now, but I am also acutely aware of how fucking short life is and how young I am. Moreover, I find the reasoning that would suggest I need to live my life in service of other people's insecurities to be incredibly, crushingly, profoundly unconvincing right now. Know what I mean?
ON TO JOYOUS THINGS!
I didn't intend to sleep with Lachlan before I went to Transformus. Really! I didn't! I had thought to myself, "Self, his desires are just never going to match up enough with yours. You'll just never understand each other quite enough, and furthermore, he probably won't make the effort to do so anyway. Therefore, do not sleep with him. We do not want another Thomas in our lives."
And so I voluntarily agreed to restrict my sexual activity to some loosely-defined "making out" type of thing. Reader, this was a mistake. First, when I made this agreement, I was assuming so much that turned out not to be true. For instance, I had assumed that Lachlan was just too focused on getting in my pants to be interested in communicating with me adequately. I knew I needed reassurance about a few things, like his ability to maintain friendships with current or ex lovers, his comprehension of what I am and am not looking for with him, and his willingness to be as honest about his perspective.
The first night, he didn't have the time or energy for it because he was tending to his lovely sculpture and dancing and trying to find a hookup. I did grab him and kiss him hard, which captivated his attention for a bit, but he was pretty clear about only being interested in going tentward if I was down to fuck. I appreciated the stubborn honesty...I'll try to elaborate more later about Lachlan's peculiar sort of grace which might appear, to the untrained eye, as rudeness. To this girl, his "rudeness" is like a breath of cool, clean air on a swampy day. I have so much respect for him after this weekend. He is not only one of the hottest guys (to my particular taste) in my world; he is honest, super enthusiastically sex-positive, uninhibited, fucking amazing in bed, and just sweet enough to get away with being such a slut. His shamelessness is inspiring.
(Grammar nerd aside: parallelism just disintegrated in the worst way. Apologies.)
Anyway, so the next evening, the night of the big burn, my sexy ginger found me and stayed with me and talked to me for a very long time about what it would and would not mean for us to tangle, whether I could justify "breaking the rules" for him, and what would happen afterwards. With this lovely balance of his, he managed to reassure me completely without once coddling or pandering. He showed that he cared without overstating anything. He seems to be as allergic to lying as I am. Basically, God's gift to sluts! In fact, I told him that I would be happy to write an endorsement for his Sex and Relationships Resume.
I keep getting sidetracked from the story. So I made my decision and tried to send Simon some sort of telepathic love and apology-for-the-sweet-sin-I-am-about-to-commit message. I went back to my camp, got pretty, and went back out to dance and find Lachlan. We negotiated a bit more as we walked towards his tent:
Lachlan: Just so you know, I am need to come back out later. I have to take care of the sculpture because it could explode if I don't. Plus, my friend has some drugs for me. This will not be bedtime sex.
Me: That is fine, but I really don't want to be rushed because I have been thinking about getting you naked for a long fucking time. I need to explore you more than an hour's worth. Oh look, it's my friend's car.
(I push him hard up against the car, kiss him deeply, and whisper something dirty in his ear.)
Lachlan: Okay. Alright. No rush.
When we get to the tent, I eagerly peel off his costume and lay him down. He's sortof talkative in bed, apparently, and he keeps exclaiming little appreciative nothings as I climb all over him, kiss him everywhere, flip him over and massage his back, flip him back over and suck his cock...I was so thrilled to have his body all to myself, to have the freedom to touch him anywhere and any way, that I got totally absorbed in the act of exploring him and trying to make him moan. I was so happy with this arrangement that I had trouble giving up the reins when he flipped me on my back.
But damn, he's great with his hands! For the first time ever, a man finds my G-spot! I have never quite been able to get my hands into the right position to find it myself, so I was beginning to doubt its existence. But Lachlan finds it, and finds it, and finds it again until I am almost screaming, almost can't stand it. Then he pauses to grab a condom, throws my legs over his shoulders, and stuffs his cock in me. It feels huge, which doesn't make any sense because he's no monster. So I realize that he has somehow managed to fit two fingers in me at the same time as his not-insignificant cock so that he can continue to stroke my insides.
Mind-blowing hotness, I tell you. And he is so complimentary and attentive and focused the whole time that when we collapse after some two hours or so, I have to just thank him and kiss the corners of his eyes over and over. My loins hurt so sweetly for the next 48 hours! Hot, hot, hot. I can't praise him enough.
It felt amazing, he took great care of me, and I felt emotionally clear afterwards. So perhaps, reader, you can sympathize somewhat with my decision. I really, really needed what Lachlan gifted to me. I felt so fortunate to be able to see, live and in motion, what it looks and feels like when two adult friends have mad lust AND serious respect and tenderness for one another. I was also totally inspired by his lack of shame. I want to be more like him when I grow up.
Simon will forgive me. I think he already has, but he still feels the need to verbalize more about it. Like, probably a lot more. But I knew that was what I was signing myself up for when I zipped that tent flap behind me, and I can't possibly regret it even if Simon lays down a "no more Lachlan" rule. By refusing to see me until I speak to Simon, Lachlan himself laid down the law a bit. (He also sent me a text asking that I apologize to Simon for him. Cute, I know, but a little odd.) Boundaries are returning in some capacity from both sides.
Meanwhile, I think that Zeke is pretty upset with Harriet right now. I will be more than happy to try to console him sometime soon. I think I know just the thing...
Ha! I love my life, even though it is a drag sometimes.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
In Which the Jesus People Visit
I simply had to take a moment to share that just now, as I was on my bed (in front of a large uncovered window that faces the road) masturbating happily and had come very close to reaching my second big orgasm, the dog started barking as he only does when someone is outside the house. As soon as I looked up, I saw two bobbing heads above the sill climbing the steps to my front door.
I calmly sat up and turned my back towards the window and took my sweet time wrapping a towel around myself, hoping to improve their day with a little injection of something decidedly unchristian. I had certainly also considered answering the door in a towel, but chose a skimpy little dress instead. By the time I got to the door, they had already walked down the driveway. They looked up at me, waved, and made like they would turn back, but they paused.
I asked, "Can I help you with something?"
Dude #1 said, "How's it going?" sounding for all the world like a frat boy and looking like one, too.
Dude #2 said, grinning awkwardly, "We're um, we're just missionaries."
Me: Oh! Well, we're all heathens here.
Dude #2: In what way? May we come share a message with you?
Me: No, I don't have time. I have spells to cast and babies to burn, all before I go back to work. But thank you! Have a nice day!
Dude #2: (Horrified) Maybe some other time then...
I calmly sat up and turned my back towards the window and took my sweet time wrapping a towel around myself, hoping to improve their day with a little injection of something decidedly unchristian. I had certainly also considered answering the door in a towel, but chose a skimpy little dress instead. By the time I got to the door, they had already walked down the driveway. They looked up at me, waved, and made like they would turn back, but they paused.
I asked, "Can I help you with something?"
Dude #1 said, "How's it going?" sounding for all the world like a frat boy and looking like one, too.
Dude #2 said, grinning awkwardly, "We're um, we're just missionaries."
Me: Oh! Well, we're all heathens here.
Dude #2: In what way? May we come share a message with you?
Me: No, I don't have time. I have spells to cast and babies to burn, all before I go back to work. But thank you! Have a nice day!
Dude #2: (Horrified) Maybe some other time then...
In Which Carnita and Zeke Get Permission
...And take advantage of it!
I had the most gorgeous sexy time with Zeke last night. I keep shuddering and melting a little bit thinking about it. He is so fucking sweet and sexy and smart and passionate. Again, I can hardly believe my luck.
How did it happen this time? So Harriet and I met up to plan for Transformus (Aaahhhh it's next weekend! So soon!) earlier in the evening, but of course we didn't end up getting much done because we were girl-chattering and talking about poly stuff instead. Those two are reading The Ethical Slut at the same time right now, and it's so cute how much they're getting into it.
Anyhow, Harriet had received a troubling call from her object of desire, whom we'll call Derek (even though I haven't met him yet). To make a long story short, she couldn't tell at the time her last call to him got dropped whether or not he had been eaten by a bear. Literally. So naturally, she was rather worried and decided to go check on him, and then she decided just to stay the night out in the country with him.
Before Zeke came to join us for a drink, Harriet had explained all this to me, but she said that she was worried Zeke would not be comfortable with the situation. She had never done anything like that before; Zeke had always been present when she had any sexual interaction with Derek. Of course, my mind went straight to the sexy, glitter-studded gutter that it inhabits so much of the time. The conversation went something like this:
Me: (Devious smile) Why don't you let me take care of Zeke? I doubt he'll complain about you leaving if I go keep him company for a while.
Harriet: You can do that tonight? You would?
Me: Absolutely. I'd love to.
Harriet: But how would Simon feel about that?
Me: I thought about it, and I really don't think he would want me to call and wake him up to tell him what I'm doing. I think he would prefer that I tell him later because sleep is precious, I'm already out, and he's expecting me home late anyway.
Harriet: Hm...let's ask Zeke.
Then Zeke arrived, and things got interesting. First of all, the two of them somehow agreed in the time it took me to go to the bathroom that they were each allowed to do anything except intercourse with their respective partners, and Harriet told me about it as soon as I got back. Some things that we had never before aired among the three of us were said aloud. This all felt really amazingly progressive, the kind of experience I absolutely live for. Even though these comments and observations were only things along the lines of shyly acknowledging attraction and fondness in front of the other partner, they opened the door for us all to slowly but surely start getting over our embarrassment about speaking openly with each other.
Harriet, little firestarter that she is, at one point seemed to get a stuck on this idea that she wanted to see Zeke and me kiss each other. She kept playfully trying to direct us like a couple of actors: "Kiss now, while no one is looking!" I couldn't tell if she was kidding at the time, so I asked Zeke about it later when we were doing some seriously perfect naked afterglow cuddling. He said that he thought she was actually fairly serious, and that it was her way of trying to demystify our interaction a bit. Now that I know, I believe I will be happy to indulge her somewhat kooky request next time. Make out with your husband? Sure, anytime I possibly can!
Really, if I'm being honest, I would do just about anything that doesn't compromise my values or needs too deeply to make Harriet happy. The same is beginning to be true of Zeke. I think I know them well enough to enjoy a measure of certainty that they are incapable of manipulating me, so trust abounds. What a promising start to a potentially successful poly constellation. Yay.
And so I went over to their house. One particularly fond memory is of this sortof lazy, sideways 69 position that we ended up in, our faces buried in each other's laps. Jesus, he smells delicious, and he's great with his hands and mouth. I love kissing him, too. Our mouths seem to slip over each other and lock together perfectly. And those beautiful hips! I am patiently waiting for the day when Harriet gives her blessing for me to grab his hipbones and pull him inside me.
Reader, I dare say that Zeke slept much better than he otherwise would have last night. If he didn't, I doubt he regrets being tired at his video shoot today. And I'm walking around with a deep belly smile that just won't quit.
I had the most gorgeous sexy time with Zeke last night. I keep shuddering and melting a little bit thinking about it. He is so fucking sweet and sexy and smart and passionate. Again, I can hardly believe my luck.
How did it happen this time? So Harriet and I met up to plan for Transformus (Aaahhhh it's next weekend! So soon!) earlier in the evening, but of course we didn't end up getting much done because we were girl-chattering and talking about poly stuff instead. Those two are reading The Ethical Slut at the same time right now, and it's so cute how much they're getting into it.
Anyhow, Harriet had received a troubling call from her object of desire, whom we'll call Derek (even though I haven't met him yet). To make a long story short, she couldn't tell at the time her last call to him got dropped whether or not he had been eaten by a bear. Literally. So naturally, she was rather worried and decided to go check on him, and then she decided just to stay the night out in the country with him.
Before Zeke came to join us for a drink, Harriet had explained all this to me, but she said that she was worried Zeke would not be comfortable with the situation. She had never done anything like that before; Zeke had always been present when she had any sexual interaction with Derek. Of course, my mind went straight to the sexy, glitter-studded gutter that it inhabits so much of the time. The conversation went something like this:
Me: (Devious smile) Why don't you let me take care of Zeke? I doubt he'll complain about you leaving if I go keep him company for a while.
Harriet: You can do that tonight? You would?
Me: Absolutely. I'd love to.
Harriet: But how would Simon feel about that?
Me: I thought about it, and I really don't think he would want me to call and wake him up to tell him what I'm doing. I think he would prefer that I tell him later because sleep is precious, I'm already out, and he's expecting me home late anyway.
Harriet: Hm...let's ask Zeke.
Then Zeke arrived, and things got interesting. First of all, the two of them somehow agreed in the time it took me to go to the bathroom that they were each allowed to do anything except intercourse with their respective partners, and Harriet told me about it as soon as I got back. Some things that we had never before aired among the three of us were said aloud. This all felt really amazingly progressive, the kind of experience I absolutely live for. Even though these comments and observations were only things along the lines of shyly acknowledging attraction and fondness in front of the other partner, they opened the door for us all to slowly but surely start getting over our embarrassment about speaking openly with each other.
Harriet, little firestarter that she is, at one point seemed to get a stuck on this idea that she wanted to see Zeke and me kiss each other. She kept playfully trying to direct us like a couple of actors: "Kiss now, while no one is looking!" I couldn't tell if she was kidding at the time, so I asked Zeke about it later when we were doing some seriously perfect naked afterglow cuddling. He said that he thought she was actually fairly serious, and that it was her way of trying to demystify our interaction a bit. Now that I know, I believe I will be happy to indulge her somewhat kooky request next time. Make out with your husband? Sure, anytime I possibly can!
Really, if I'm being honest, I would do just about anything that doesn't compromise my values or needs too deeply to make Harriet happy. The same is beginning to be true of Zeke. I think I know them well enough to enjoy a measure of certainty that they are incapable of manipulating me, so trust abounds. What a promising start to a potentially successful poly constellation. Yay.
And so I went over to their house. One particularly fond memory is of this sortof lazy, sideways 69 position that we ended up in, our faces buried in each other's laps. Jesus, he smells delicious, and he's great with his hands and mouth. I love kissing him, too. Our mouths seem to slip over each other and lock together perfectly. And those beautiful hips! I am patiently waiting for the day when Harriet gives her blessing for me to grab his hipbones and pull him inside me.
Reader, I dare say that Zeke slept much better than he otherwise would have last night. If he didn't, I doubt he regrets being tired at his video shoot today. And I'm walking around with a deep belly smile that just won't quit.
In Which Carnita Has a Long Weekend Alone
Simon took a trip to his parents' house this weekend and left the house to Harvey and me. I would have trouble expressing to you the extent of my relief about having some time and space to myself. It turns out that there are many parts of myself that I had forgotten about in the demented mental miscellany that has shaped my domestic partnership for the last couple of months.
For example, our house had been in a state of chaos for a long time, but I couldn't seem to find the right mindset to take care of the problem. However, within a day of Simon leaving, I got a decisive sense of urgency about cleaning the place, and I didn't stop until everything was spotless. It didn't hurt that our new friend Valerie, who has been staying on our couch with a fair amount of regularity, had scrubbed my entire bathroom by the time I woke up Saturday morning. That was all I needed to get inspired. Sometimes when Simon is around, I feel so bogged down by his attention and crowded by his physical presence--which seems to revolve around wherever I want to clean--that it feels unduly exhausting to do simple tasks.
Furthermore, he usually seems unaware of his tendency to trail objects behind him everywhere as he moves through the house: excessive water glasses, papers and folders, musical instruments, lengths of used dental floss, used tissues, beard trimmings, used towels, dirty laundry, cords and headphones, and most especially books. It's not that he is the only one who ever does this, but it is true that he won't tidy up after himself unless nagged and reminded. As a result, I feel discouraged about cleaning because I know that he will immediately set about re-cluttering as soon as he enters the space. His lack of awareness of the things he leaves behind makes it pretty much impossible to remedy the situation by a simple discussion. Believe me, we've tried that.
In summary, I have found out in almost three years with Simon that for the house to be as clean as I would like for it to be, I basically have to resign myself to the necessity of rather constantly going behind him (in addition to myself, of course) and putting things back where they belong, wiping things up, and throwing things away. I feel much more capable of fielding the responsibility now that the entire house is clean and everything is only a matter of maintenance. Instead of needing to spend half an hour or more per day cleaning just to keep up, from here on out I can expect to average a much more manageable time investment. I am stoked about it. Getting things clean was such an important sanity preservation measure, and it felt so good to remind myself that I am capable of proper housekeeping.
Anyway, I'm going to cut this entry short because I didn't get to finish it when I started it. More to come later...
For example, our house had been in a state of chaos for a long time, but I couldn't seem to find the right mindset to take care of the problem. However, within a day of Simon leaving, I got a decisive sense of urgency about cleaning the place, and I didn't stop until everything was spotless. It didn't hurt that our new friend Valerie, who has been staying on our couch with a fair amount of regularity, had scrubbed my entire bathroom by the time I woke up Saturday morning. That was all I needed to get inspired. Sometimes when Simon is around, I feel so bogged down by his attention and crowded by his physical presence--which seems to revolve around wherever I want to clean--that it feels unduly exhausting to do simple tasks.
Furthermore, he usually seems unaware of his tendency to trail objects behind him everywhere as he moves through the house: excessive water glasses, papers and folders, musical instruments, lengths of used dental floss, used tissues, beard trimmings, used towels, dirty laundry, cords and headphones, and most especially books. It's not that he is the only one who ever does this, but it is true that he won't tidy up after himself unless nagged and reminded. As a result, I feel discouraged about cleaning because I know that he will immediately set about re-cluttering as soon as he enters the space. His lack of awareness of the things he leaves behind makes it pretty much impossible to remedy the situation by a simple discussion. Believe me, we've tried that.
In summary, I have found out in almost three years with Simon that for the house to be as clean as I would like for it to be, I basically have to resign myself to the necessity of rather constantly going behind him (in addition to myself, of course) and putting things back where they belong, wiping things up, and throwing things away. I feel much more capable of fielding the responsibility now that the entire house is clean and everything is only a matter of maintenance. Instead of needing to spend half an hour or more per day cleaning just to keep up, from here on out I can expect to average a much more manageable time investment. I am stoked about it. Getting things clean was such an important sanity preservation measure, and it felt so good to remind myself that I am capable of proper housekeeping.
Anyway, I'm going to cut this entry short because I didn't get to finish it when I started it. More to come later...
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