The news media announced in the wee hours of this morning that Osama Bin Laden has been killed. At first, I was delighted to hear it. Soon afterwards, I started to realize that there are probably plenty of eligible replacements ready to spring up in his place--perhaps several at once, which someone in the blogosphere compared to the effect of cutting off one of a hydra's heads. And the three that grow out of that wound may be even more pissed, even less cautious, and even more desperate for glory than old Binny himself.
Not to mention that after my original reaction to hearing this, I recoiled with remorse to realize that I had been celebrating the death of a human being by the hand of other human beings. This is clearly at odds with my commitment to nonviolence. Furthermore, bin Laden's death has done nothing to change the American addiction to homogenizing the world in its image, often by the assistance of force and horrific violence--you know, the most basic and legitimate complaint that bin Laden and his followers had against us as a nation.
Anyhow, politics and war are not subjects I care to spend much time with here, so I'll leave it at that. I'm nothing if not ambivalent about this event. I was, however, happy for the validation Caleb felt when his prediction that Obama would be the president to catch the elusive bin Laden came true. You see, when Caleb worked as a campaigner in 2007 and 2008, this idea was one of the most emphatic points of persuasion he used when discussing politics with voters.
I remember this; when he started the spiel with me, I would nod and throw in a sincere-sounding "mm hmm" from time to time so that he would keep talking and I could be free to stare at his beautiful mug from close range. Now I can relax about that since I am free to look at him almost as often as I'd like, and I can actually enjoy getting to know his intellect, his heart, his motivations and beliefs...and of course, his (almost certainly endearing) habits while he sleeps or orgasms or concentrates on something very intently. Oh, I can't wait.
Were you wondering how I was going to get back around to the main plot? Marvel: I went from bin Laden to Obama to Caleb, and as always, somehow back to sex. Call it a talent.
Phew. Speaking of our most beloved topic, I am beginning to find out what the people on the forums mean about polyamory sometimes entailing that we spend so much time communicating that we rarely get around to having sex. Simon and I certainly spent an inordinate amount of time discussing things yesterday and last night, and I feel completely emotionally exhausted. Nevertheless, I think it is important to re-cap the results of our labors.
I'll start with positives so that I won't feel too bad about the possibility of having to rush through the ickier bits. I'm sure I'll have plenty of time, possibly my whole life, to think about and work on the particular issue that made part of our conversation unpleasant even if I don't get around to writing about it today.
The main positive development is that Simon and I agreed to a few timely things regarding his mental health and my...um...sluttiness index.
Simon has been suffering from pretty severe anxiety lately. I am not surprised that a transition like this would bring it out of him--it isn't the first time and won't be the last, I'm sure. Anyhow, his end of our little bargain was that he is going to take some responsibility for his mental health and apply some intention and goal-setting to that process. We can't have him descending the spiral into the dark land of constant panic attacks.
My end of the deal is that I am going to slow down in the New Lover Acquisition department, focus on what is happening right now (i.e. Simon and Caleb), and try to be as present as possible for those things and--*gasp* maybe even some other aspects of life!--as possible. I agreed that when we first started discussing polyamory seriously, I felt so liberated and excited that I went a bit boy crazy. That was probably a necessary little phase, but now I'm ready to tuck in a bit and set a reasonable pace with all this relationship-building. I agreed not to seek out any more lovers at the moment and to try to tone down my fairly constant sexual vibrations, and I feel remarkably confident about that decision.
For instance, it was so lovely hang out with my poly friend Daniel at the park today without wondering what the whole interaction was about. We could talk like old friends about our relationships, play with the dogs, and lie around in the grass on a sunny afternoon without confusion. I know that doesn't sound like much to get excited about, but lately it has been difficult for me, in the presence of any attractive man, to keep my curiosity and hyperdriven sexuality from becoming an issue that interferes with comfortable interaction. I feel like even my roommate, for whom I have nothing but platonic feelings, has started to feel a bit creeped out by my affection, or perhaps just the way I'm always oozing with it. I was beginning to feel marked--as obvious to everyone I meet as a bitch in heat. That may not be a terrible problem in itself, but I believe that it will be healthier to allow the hormonal morass to dry out just a touch.
I think that I was wise to skip the gloomier topic because I have run out of time to write for today. I send my love to my two new readers. I have like three now! Incredible, isn't it? If you're here and hiding, by the way, do speak up. Signing off.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
In Which a Visit Is Arranged and Lucas Makes a Jailbreak
Gentle reader, the goddess continues to smile upon her humble servant.
It is a lovely, balmy evening in Appalachia, and I have just gotten off the phone with none other than the beloved Lucas himself. He messaged me on the interwebs yesterday, and I of course asked if I could speak to him as soon as possible. I called, and I finally got to tell him everything I have been wishing with mounting urgency to say for years, about how much my memory of him has come to mean to me. He had to run off to an AA meeting fairly soon after, but I called again today and we spoke at greater length about what has been going on in our lives for the last few years.
He had just finished a six-month jail sentence and started to clean up his life, apparently by the inspiration of a three year old daughter. A daughter! If she's anything like her father, she has to be absolutely enchanting. I was much heartened by his story of the benefits of lockup for his sense of purpose and self-worth. He's still as clever and sweet and incorrigibly sexual as I remembered. I wish he wasn't on parole and stuck in the midwest for the next year. Regardless, whenever he's free and can get himself over to my mountains, oh reader, I predict that I shall have some beautiful smut to write.
Speaking of beauty, Caleb and I have a plan for me to visit him in less than two weeks. I am positively atwitter about it. It seems that my amorous adventures may end up putting a lot of mileage on my poor old car in the future. If this connection with Caleb keeps progressing, and the next few years of his life go according to his current plan, I may always have to drive at least a couple of hours in order to see him in any context that allows lovers to be lovers--i.e. circumstances other than clandestine outdoor hookups. So it goes.
Perhaps longish-distance relationships have their perks, though. You get to write letters, you don't have to worry that you'll get sick of each other or that the relationship will succumb to ennui, and you have fewer of the logistical problems that come along with being publicly connected to multiple partners in a small town where people gossip. Besides, I'm not sure I could handle that kind of lusciousness more than a few times a month.
Likewise, I often feel like Simon is the only person with whom I have the type of connection that keeps me excited to be with him as often as I do. We've spent much time and energy building a rapport that keeps us in a mode of personal growth and new discovery with each other; there is no one else with whom I have so much to talk about on any given day.
The conclusion I'm coming to about what I want in other relationships is that intermittence is just about as important as regularity or certainty. I would consider my love life very successful if I were surrounded by several lovers with whom I have meaningful, trusting connections--ones in which everyone is committed to staying "together" in whatever loose sense we can mean by that word--and whom I see regularly but perhaps somewhat infrequently. And of course, I would like for my little constellation to be built on solid principles of friendship, too; I'd like for all of us to truly be there for each other in times of need, and all the other things that make for positive relationships of any kind.
Of course, if Lucas and I were to become lovers (again) some time in the future, for example, then I would have to settle for something not just somewhat infrequent. Contact would be very rare in that case, but with someone I've loved that much and for this long, meetings would be extremely special. I could handle that.
These have been golden days. Signing off now.
It is a lovely, balmy evening in Appalachia, and I have just gotten off the phone with none other than the beloved Lucas himself. He messaged me on the interwebs yesterday, and I of course asked if I could speak to him as soon as possible. I called, and I finally got to tell him everything I have been wishing with mounting urgency to say for years, about how much my memory of him has come to mean to me. He had to run off to an AA meeting fairly soon after, but I called again today and we spoke at greater length about what has been going on in our lives for the last few years.
He had just finished a six-month jail sentence and started to clean up his life, apparently by the inspiration of a three year old daughter. A daughter! If she's anything like her father, she has to be absolutely enchanting. I was much heartened by his story of the benefits of lockup for his sense of purpose and self-worth. He's still as clever and sweet and incorrigibly sexual as I remembered. I wish he wasn't on parole and stuck in the midwest for the next year. Regardless, whenever he's free and can get himself over to my mountains, oh reader, I predict that I shall have some beautiful smut to write.
Speaking of beauty, Caleb and I have a plan for me to visit him in less than two weeks. I am positively atwitter about it. It seems that my amorous adventures may end up putting a lot of mileage on my poor old car in the future. If this connection with Caleb keeps progressing, and the next few years of his life go according to his current plan, I may always have to drive at least a couple of hours in order to see him in any context that allows lovers to be lovers--i.e. circumstances other than clandestine outdoor hookups. So it goes.
Perhaps longish-distance relationships have their perks, though. You get to write letters, you don't have to worry that you'll get sick of each other or that the relationship will succumb to ennui, and you have fewer of the logistical problems that come along with being publicly connected to multiple partners in a small town where people gossip. Besides, I'm not sure I could handle that kind of lusciousness more than a few times a month.
Likewise, I often feel like Simon is the only person with whom I have the type of connection that keeps me excited to be with him as often as I do. We've spent much time and energy building a rapport that keeps us in a mode of personal growth and new discovery with each other; there is no one else with whom I have so much to talk about on any given day.
The conclusion I'm coming to about what I want in other relationships is that intermittence is just about as important as regularity or certainty. I would consider my love life very successful if I were surrounded by several lovers with whom I have meaningful, trusting connections--ones in which everyone is committed to staying "together" in whatever loose sense we can mean by that word--and whom I see regularly but perhaps somewhat infrequently. And of course, I would like for my little constellation to be built on solid principles of friendship, too; I'd like for all of us to truly be there for each other in times of need, and all the other things that make for positive relationships of any kind.
Of course, if Lucas and I were to become lovers (again) some time in the future, for example, then I would have to settle for something not just somewhat infrequent. Contact would be very rare in that case, but with someone I've loved that much and for this long, meetings would be extremely special. I could handle that.
These have been golden days. Signing off now.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
In Which Carnita and Caleb Climb a Tree
If you and I were girlfriends, I'd probably start this conversation with a piercing squeal of joy, contributing to that persistent tinnitus you've been struggling with ever since you went to that My Bloody Valentine show a few years back and forgot your earplugs. You might just box my ears to make things even, and I'd scream again, and then I would proceed thusly:
I have a new lover. At times in the last 48 hours I have felt like I could just die of idiotic bliss--forgetting to breathe, or accidentally drinking antifreeze because it tastes sweet, or something like that--and at other times I have felt like an aged queen calmly surveying the elegance of the trappings of my life and all that I have managed to create. Not only has the last few days' experience blown the walls off of the realm of possibility to reveal a tender, shiny, germinating mystery, but I have been gifted with the unique privilege of being intimately associated with two of the most beautiful and impressive men I have ever encountered. I feel like a soft and nimble hand has applied some kind of growth salve to my heart. I am full.
Side note: I am writing this while at work, and James is about thirty feet away, looking positively gorgeous in his nerdy muscle shirt, hunched over his math book, sun-burnished hair falling over his eyes. I'd love to have a chaste, public-appropriate hug, but he continues to behave strangely when he sees me on campus. Furthermore, I'm not sure I can believe that he's just so intent on his school work that he can't stop to reconnect for a minute. No one is that busy. I wonder if his internal atmosphere has darkened towards us again. Le sigh. His repression is painful to watch. (I don't think I ever explained what he told me about the freakout that caused him to ignore us for so long. It turns out that his own homo tendencies had scared him that badly! The poor thing.) What a waste of brilliance and beauty.
When I met Caleb at a certain chocoholic's paradise downtown, the rain had been deciding what to do with itself for hours. This circumstance precluded a comfortable naked romp in some private grassy place, and so we had to improvise. I didn't honestly care what we did, as long as I could be near him. As we walked around downtown in the rain, we came upon a perfect climbing tree in an area that sees little foot traffic after dark. Some sort of evergreen with delicious-smelling, sticky black sap oozing out of it from what look like bullet wounds. We climbed about halfway up, and I tell you that twenty feet off the ground is a thrilling if not intelligent place to be in a thunderstorm.
There we stayed for a couple of hours, finding creative ways to do increasingly naughty and acrobatic things, while a storm raged intermittently around us. Loud thunderclaps, torrential downpours, and cathedral bells punctuated an already intense experience with Heade-esque dramatic flourishes. When the rain began to give us bone chills, we migrated to an intimate little bar where we had Polyconvo Part Deux. Yet again I was floored by how the powers that dole out fortunes to human beings could have made such an error in proportion. I mean, he's gorgeous, masculine, intelligent, sensitive, kind, and honest...and he is infatuated with me! I am still having trouble believing my luck.
When it seemed to be time to go, we headed to my car, where we proceeded to create enough fog to lend some privacy despite being parked on the street. It felt a lot like high school love affairs, necking and humping in a cramped car seat, halfway expecting to hear a tap and see a harsh flashlight beam any minute. Nevertheless, we made it work somehow.
Another side note: I think that in order to be true to myself right now, I absolutely must negotiate with Simon an overnight trip during my upcoming break to the town where Caleb spends most of the days of his week.
Speaking of Simon, I again feel hungry for him right after having an emotional and sexual connection with someone else. I don't think I can possibly be imagining the correlation at this point. Fulfilling poly play really does work that well to invigorate my connection to my primary partner. We have a date this afternoon to lie around in the sun, and I can think of nothing I desire more.
I have a new lover. At times in the last 48 hours I have felt like I could just die of idiotic bliss--forgetting to breathe, or accidentally drinking antifreeze because it tastes sweet, or something like that--and at other times I have felt like an aged queen calmly surveying the elegance of the trappings of my life and all that I have managed to create. Not only has the last few days' experience blown the walls off of the realm of possibility to reveal a tender, shiny, germinating mystery, but I have been gifted with the unique privilege of being intimately associated with two of the most beautiful and impressive men I have ever encountered. I feel like a soft and nimble hand has applied some kind of growth salve to my heart. I am full.
Side note: I am writing this while at work, and James is about thirty feet away, looking positively gorgeous in his nerdy muscle shirt, hunched over his math book, sun-burnished hair falling over his eyes. I'd love to have a chaste, public-appropriate hug, but he continues to behave strangely when he sees me on campus. Furthermore, I'm not sure I can believe that he's just so intent on his school work that he can't stop to reconnect for a minute. No one is that busy. I wonder if his internal atmosphere has darkened towards us again. Le sigh. His repression is painful to watch. (I don't think I ever explained what he told me about the freakout that caused him to ignore us for so long. It turns out that his own homo tendencies had scared him that badly! The poor thing.) What a waste of brilliance and beauty.
When I met Caleb at a certain chocoholic's paradise downtown, the rain had been deciding what to do with itself for hours. This circumstance precluded a comfortable naked romp in some private grassy place, and so we had to improvise. I didn't honestly care what we did, as long as I could be near him. As we walked around downtown in the rain, we came upon a perfect climbing tree in an area that sees little foot traffic after dark. Some sort of evergreen with delicious-smelling, sticky black sap oozing out of it from what look like bullet wounds. We climbed about halfway up, and I tell you that twenty feet off the ground is a thrilling if not intelligent place to be in a thunderstorm.
There we stayed for a couple of hours, finding creative ways to do increasingly naughty and acrobatic things, while a storm raged intermittently around us. Loud thunderclaps, torrential downpours, and cathedral bells punctuated an already intense experience with Heade-esque dramatic flourishes. When the rain began to give us bone chills, we migrated to an intimate little bar where we had Polyconvo Part Deux. Yet again I was floored by how the powers that dole out fortunes to human beings could have made such an error in proportion. I mean, he's gorgeous, masculine, intelligent, sensitive, kind, and honest...and he is infatuated with me! I am still having trouble believing my luck.
When it seemed to be time to go, we headed to my car, where we proceeded to create enough fog to lend some privacy despite being parked on the street. It felt a lot like high school love affairs, necking and humping in a cramped car seat, halfway expecting to hear a tap and see a harsh flashlight beam any minute. Nevertheless, we made it work somehow.
Another side note: I think that in order to be true to myself right now, I absolutely must negotiate with Simon an overnight trip during my upcoming break to the town where Caleb spends most of the days of his week.
Speaking of Simon, I again feel hungry for him right after having an emotional and sexual connection with someone else. I don't think I can possibly be imagining the correlation at this point. Fulfilling poly play really does work that well to invigorate my connection to my primary partner. We have a date this afternoon to lie around in the sun, and I can think of nothing I desire more.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
In Which an Old Crush Is Discovered to Be Mutual, Simon Finds Potential Love, and James Repents
Backwards chronology seems more appropriate for this entry. Yesterday certainly seemed like a high point of sorts.
Caleb is a character from the rather distant past--just an acquaintance, really--whom I have crushed on since the day I met him. He is far above average in intelligence and charm, not to mention jaw-droppingly gorgeous and sexually magnetic: tall and handsome, with perfectly tanned skin and distinguished early-onset salt and pepper gray hair...and clearly, oh so clearly very sensual and attentive. I'm convinced that he is one of the goddesses' gifts to their devoted daughters. I mean, this is a guy who would make me stop to look twice if I saw him in a magazine spread in GQ, so imagine my surprise when, in the midst of a lovely conversation about polyamory on a sunny afternoon in the park, I say, "Kiss me," and he does it. And does it. And does it. I feel like I'm having electrical surges in my brain every time I think about that half hour. Dzzt! Now I can probably die without regret.
Of course, the location of this scene limited how far things could go, so I was left with an enormous appetite for sex. I got home from practice hours later still throbbing with the sweetest frustration on earth, and the curve of Simon's shoulder started to seem entirely delicious. So we fucked more enthusiastically than we have in months.
And can I just pause to relate this to one of my favorite things about polyamory? Keeping a variety of loving and sexual energies flowing through my life multiplies the availability of those resources to my body, mind, and spirit. Having multiple people with whom I can enjoy and explore this energy, I can let go of the thoughts and behaviors that accompany scarcity economies of love and sex (i.e. the panic I always used to get in monogamous relationships), which makes me a better lover to them all. I realize that it won't always feel like paradise the way it does today, but I want to put a little index tab on this time in my mind so that I can return here to reassure myself when I start to wonder whether this is worth all the heartache and turmoil I'm sure it will cause at times. If I have days like yesterday even just once every few weeks, that could justify it all.
The other most exciting piece of news is that Simon has a date tonight with one of the girls of his dreams. He's already kissed her...and yeah, she's poly! Dedicated and everything! I'm psyched for him, and I hope he has as good of an experience with that as I'm having with this. And I hope neither of us have to get our hearts broken just yet. It would be great to have a few positive experiences first.
Other updates:
James called me out of the clear azure last week and apologized to me, saying that he had had a moment of clarity and realized he had fucked up. He had realized the pathology in his "run away when it gets uncomfortable" routine and had begun to miss his friends. I was perfectly happy to welcome him back, but Simon is not so willing to let go of the betrayal. I did, however, persuade him to give the guy a chance to apologize and make things right, and he agreed to at least have a conversation with James. These are all positive developments, except I worry that Simon may lose patience waiting for James to finish up with final exams and contact him. Oh well. I've done what I could do.
Lachlan has been noncommittal and seemingly too preoccupied to seriously pursue spending time with me since our third date. I have also done everything I can do about that, so I think I'll try to just go about my business and get him off my mind for a while...which shouldn't be difficult if I focus on the two sexy beasts who are currently on the stage.
I've hung out with a couple of other people I met on OKCupid and such, all of whom were interesting and smart and friend-worthy, but none of whom I care to get between the sheets with.
I keep meaning to write more substantive stuff with more detail about how I feel and all that fru-fru shit, but I'm very busy with the actual living. I might have to treat this like a captain's log for a while: quick and dirty re-caps that hit the central points. Signing off for now.
Caleb is a character from the rather distant past--just an acquaintance, really--whom I have crushed on since the day I met him. He is far above average in intelligence and charm, not to mention jaw-droppingly gorgeous and sexually magnetic: tall and handsome, with perfectly tanned skin and distinguished early-onset salt and pepper gray hair...and clearly, oh so clearly very sensual and attentive. I'm convinced that he is one of the goddesses' gifts to their devoted daughters. I mean, this is a guy who would make me stop to look twice if I saw him in a magazine spread in GQ, so imagine my surprise when, in the midst of a lovely conversation about polyamory on a sunny afternoon in the park, I say, "Kiss me," and he does it. And does it. And does it. I feel like I'm having electrical surges in my brain every time I think about that half hour. Dzzt! Now I can probably die without regret.
Of course, the location of this scene limited how far things could go, so I was left with an enormous appetite for sex. I got home from practice hours later still throbbing with the sweetest frustration on earth, and the curve of Simon's shoulder started to seem entirely delicious. So we fucked more enthusiastically than we have in months.
And can I just pause to relate this to one of my favorite things about polyamory? Keeping a variety of loving and sexual energies flowing through my life multiplies the availability of those resources to my body, mind, and spirit. Having multiple people with whom I can enjoy and explore this energy, I can let go of the thoughts and behaviors that accompany scarcity economies of love and sex (i.e. the panic I always used to get in monogamous relationships), which makes me a better lover to them all. I realize that it won't always feel like paradise the way it does today, but I want to put a little index tab on this time in my mind so that I can return here to reassure myself when I start to wonder whether this is worth all the heartache and turmoil I'm sure it will cause at times. If I have days like yesterday even just once every few weeks, that could justify it all.
The other most exciting piece of news is that Simon has a date tonight with one of the girls of his dreams. He's already kissed her...and yeah, she's poly! Dedicated and everything! I'm psyched for him, and I hope he has as good of an experience with that as I'm having with this. And I hope neither of us have to get our hearts broken just yet. It would be great to have a few positive experiences first.
Other updates:
James called me out of the clear azure last week and apologized to me, saying that he had had a moment of clarity and realized he had fucked up. He had realized the pathology in his "run away when it gets uncomfortable" routine and had begun to miss his friends. I was perfectly happy to welcome him back, but Simon is not so willing to let go of the betrayal. I did, however, persuade him to give the guy a chance to apologize and make things right, and he agreed to at least have a conversation with James. These are all positive developments, except I worry that Simon may lose patience waiting for James to finish up with final exams and contact him. Oh well. I've done what I could do.
Lachlan has been noncommittal and seemingly too preoccupied to seriously pursue spending time with me since our third date. I have also done everything I can do about that, so I think I'll try to just go about my business and get him off my mind for a while...which shouldn't be difficult if I focus on the two sexy beasts who are currently on the stage.
I've hung out with a couple of other people I met on OKCupid and such, all of whom were interesting and smart and friend-worthy, but none of whom I care to get between the sheets with.
I keep meaning to write more substantive stuff with more detail about how I feel and all that fru-fru shit, but I'm very busy with the actual living. I might have to treat this like a captain's log for a while: quick and dirty re-caps that hit the central points. Signing off for now.
Friday, April 8, 2011
In Which There Is an Ostrich and a Confession
Not much to report, except that in the blushing glow of my new infatuation with Lachlan, I sent him an actual snail mail package--I know, classy, right?--with a print of a stencil I had made (a hilarious squawking ostrich) and a letter confessing the reasons for my crush (i.e. previous post). It was kinda ballsy even for me...or crazy, or something.
So then I had to wait for a couple of days to hear back from him about it. I got a little sweaty every time I thought about all the entropy that such a move could generate, but then he finally messaged me about it yesterday. He authorized me to make his son a t-shirt, thanked me for the "intense and flattering" letter, and said that he wanted to see me soon. So we'll see.
In the meantime, I've gotten sick as per usual this time of year, so I'm spending lots of time coughing up lungs and sneezing out brains. I've also been restricting my smoking. These stressors combined have resulted in an extremely irritable mood that has too often ended up being directed at Simon. I've reached a decidedly above-simmer hotheaded mood several times--this morning I had to restrain myself from calling him and bitching him out about about using too many towels and then not washing them--and I'm not sure how to control it right now. I have so little psychic energy, I want only to be left alone, and I continue to feel extremely annoyed that I am always sick during my (otherwise) favorite time of year. I can barely contain the desire to go hole up in a hotel for a few days and tell the world to fuck. Off. Srsly.
Wish me a better week, oh nonexistent reader.
So then I had to wait for a couple of days to hear back from him about it. I got a little sweaty every time I thought about all the entropy that such a move could generate, but then he finally messaged me about it yesterday. He authorized me to make his son a t-shirt, thanked me for the "intense and flattering" letter, and said that he wanted to see me soon. So we'll see.
In the meantime, I've gotten sick as per usual this time of year, so I'm spending lots of time coughing up lungs and sneezing out brains. I've also been restricting my smoking. These stressors combined have resulted in an extremely irritable mood that has too often ended up being directed at Simon. I've reached a decidedly above-simmer hotheaded mood several times--this morning I had to restrain myself from calling him and bitching him out about about using too many towels and then not washing them--and I'm not sure how to control it right now. I have so little psychic energy, I want only to be left alone, and I continue to feel extremely annoyed that I am always sick during my (otherwise) favorite time of year. I can barely contain the desire to go hole up in a hotel for a few days and tell the world to fuck. Off. Srsly.
Wish me a better week, oh nonexistent reader.
Friday, April 1, 2011
In Which Carnita Pontificates Further
Here is the original post to which I find myself needing to add a bit more as I reflect. Yes, I'm a little drunk.
Preface/Disclaimer: I am done with resisting the urge to look at my history in terms of new narratives. I am not above it. Polyamory is a new narrative with which I was entirely unacquainted as a fourteen to sixteen year old girl, and yet its relevance to interpreting the past is significant. That is the assumption I'm going on here. Hate it if you wish. Then again, nobody reads this blog anyway, so who, exactly, are "you"? Either way, this is for you. (But mostly for me.)
There is no way that I could have anticipated polyamory as a young teenager. Nevertheless, I see that it was there, waiting. Wanna know why?
Because the beautiful, non-possessive, purely loving and sometimes (slowly, lazily, not-rushingly) sexual relationship I had with this guy occurred at a time when I had no frame of reference for this way of relating to another human--a time when my conscious and unconscious mind were both still held in the firm grip of consensus reality/mass culture.
I was able to transcend those boundaries comfortably, without fear or jealousy, even before I was awakened to any of this poly stuff. The way I related to Lucas just made sense. It was incontrovertible because I allowed it to be.
I just want to take this opportunity to give my teenage self a high five for that.
You may not realize how meaningful and symbolic your relationship with this man will become for you as an adult, but your adult self would like for you to know that it is perfectly alright for you to continue to love him in precisely the way that you do and simply because it feels good. You need no other justification. There may be many other things that you are doing because you think they feel good, and you will later discover that you were right about some of those experiences and wrong about others. But this is one particular scenario in which you should stick to your instincts, disregard the contrary messages your culture pumps into your sweet, impressionable mind, and just do what your soul is telling you to do. You are correct that no one--not even his "girlfriend" or your gossipy teenage confidantes--needs to know about this because it belongs to you alone.
But I don't need to tell you this; you're already doing what I'm giving you permission to do. You rock. I owe you so much for your timely wisdom.
Thanks and love,
You at Age 26
Preface/Disclaimer: I am done with resisting the urge to look at my history in terms of new narratives. I am not above it. Polyamory is a new narrative with which I was entirely unacquainted as a fourteen to sixteen year old girl, and yet its relevance to interpreting the past is significant. That is the assumption I'm going on here. Hate it if you wish. Then again, nobody reads this blog anyway, so who, exactly, are "you"? Either way, this is for you. (But mostly for me.)
------------------------
There is no way that I could have anticipated polyamory as a young teenager. Nevertheless, I see that it was there, waiting. Wanna know why?
Because the beautiful, non-possessive, purely loving and sometimes (slowly, lazily, not-rushingly) sexual relationship I had with this guy occurred at a time when I had no frame of reference for this way of relating to another human--a time when my conscious and unconscious mind were both still held in the firm grip of consensus reality/mass culture.
I was able to transcend those boundaries comfortably, without fear or jealousy, even before I was awakened to any of this poly stuff. The way I related to Lucas just made sense. It was incontrovertible because I allowed it to be.
I just want to take this opportunity to give my teenage self a high five for that.
-----------------------
Dear Me at Age 14,
You may not realize how meaningful and symbolic your relationship with this man will become for you as an adult, but your adult self would like for you to know that it is perfectly alright for you to continue to love him in precisely the way that you do and simply because it feels good. You need no other justification. There may be many other things that you are doing because you think they feel good, and you will later discover that you were right about some of those experiences and wrong about others. But this is one particular scenario in which you should stick to your instincts, disregard the contrary messages your culture pumps into your sweet, impressionable mind, and just do what your soul is telling you to do. You are correct that no one--not even his "girlfriend" or your gossipy teenage confidantes--needs to know about this because it belongs to you alone.
But I don't need to tell you this; you're already doing what I'm giving you permission to do. You rock. I owe you so much for your timely wisdom.
Thanks and love,
You at Age 26
In Which Carnita Has a Second Date and Buys Tickets to Her First Burn
This is a great day despite my fatigue. It feels like it has been a very eventful eighteen hours. After martial arts practice last night, I went out with Lachlan again and woah. Yeah. Enormous crush confirmed. He is even cuter and funnier and all-around desirable than I remembered. My favorite things that I can tell about him, in some rough order of importance, are as follows:
- His unflagging honesty, even about uncomfortable topics like his sadness over the loss of his partner, his misgivings about fatherhood, and his sexual performance anxiety.
- His courage about facing said problems.
- What his love for his son says about his character and his manner of loving people in general.
- How he doesn't appear to be at all scared of the unconventional nature of my lovestyle. (He didn't even flinch when I answered his question about whether poly was mostly a sexual thing for me!)
- How he doesn't even seem to notice that he asks lots of perhaps too personal questions too early in the relationship, and I believe this is because he himself is so perfectly guileless and transparent. (I do the same thing!)
- His epically high cheekbones.
- His brilliant smile, and the way it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.
- His dense, dark freckles and perpetual ginger blush.
- His shameless animal virility, and his talent for flirting gracefully.
I blew the part where I was supposed to kiss him...but then I solved my own gut-wrenching mystery by texting him to say that I felt dumb for not kissing him...to which he replied that I would have another chance and should seize it. (I'll have another chance! Woooooohoo! I'm squealing on the inside.)
So after that, I met up with Simon, and we hung out for hours talking about how to get our sex life back on track. It was a productive and fulfilling conversation--a welcome change from the communication breakdown of last weekend.
The last exciting thing is that I bought tickets to Transformus! This will be my first burn. I am psyched. The trade-off is that I decided not to go to New Orleans over my break, but rather to spend some time here exploring my creativity and getting the end of the semester off to a clean start. I need to save money for all that free time I'll have over the summer...and for San Francisco....wow. Time is flying!
- His unflagging honesty, even about uncomfortable topics like his sadness over the loss of his partner, his misgivings about fatherhood, and his sexual performance anxiety.
- His courage about facing said problems.
- What his love for his son says about his character and his manner of loving people in general.
- How he doesn't appear to be at all scared of the unconventional nature of my lovestyle. (He didn't even flinch when I answered his question about whether poly was mostly a sexual thing for me!)
- How he doesn't even seem to notice that he asks lots of perhaps too personal questions too early in the relationship, and I believe this is because he himself is so perfectly guileless and transparent. (I do the same thing!)
- His epically high cheekbones.
- His brilliant smile, and the way it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.
- His dense, dark freckles and perpetual ginger blush.
- His shameless animal virility, and his talent for flirting gracefully.
I blew the part where I was supposed to kiss him...but then I solved my own gut-wrenching mystery by texting him to say that I felt dumb for not kissing him...to which he replied that I would have another chance and should seize it. (I'll have another chance! Woooooohoo! I'm squealing on the inside.)
So after that, I met up with Simon, and we hung out for hours talking about how to get our sex life back on track. It was a productive and fulfilling conversation--a welcome change from the communication breakdown of last weekend.
The last exciting thing is that I bought tickets to Transformus! This will be my first burn. I am psyched. The trade-off is that I decided not to go to New Orleans over my break, but rather to spend some time here exploring my creativity and getting the end of the semester off to a clean start. I need to save money for all that free time I'll have over the summer...and for San Francisco....wow. Time is flying!
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