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  Time to say goodbye
...except not. I'm looking to try to integrate my content from this site (all 150+ pages of it) into my primary site, I Chase Boys, also known as the Litterbox. I don't know how to migrate the comments over, so if any code experts are reading and feel like sharing their services, please do.

In the coming while, the URLs for this site should redirect to the proper spot on my site and such.

posted by Jen on 6:51 PM



Loving me, loving you

In my dating career, I’ve been a girlfriend on a number of occasions – some more memorable than others.

Sometimes, this was a role I dearly desired; other times, it followed the, “So, are we…?” conversation and was a bit more reluctantly acquired. What can I say? I don’t always date well.

Interestingly enough, on that aside, my mom recently told me that she feels I usually date below me, as if I think I don’t deserve better. She had a few names that she mentioned in relation to this belief, and they’re all old history, but it was still interesting of her to say… especially since my mom isn’t always given to those types of compliments, roundabout though they may be.

Anyhow, back on track. Throughout my dating career, and especially more recently when I’ve been more able to recognize it as a need in a partner, I’ve long espoused the belief that to me, a true relationship is one in which no one leads, no one follows – both partners support one another. Put more simply, I don’t need a man in my life, and I don’t want to need someone; I want to want their company, and I want them to want mine… but I can exist quite well on my own, and have done so on many occasions.

I believe that a good relationship is a partnership. Your partner is there for you in times of need, and supports you when you need it; in return, you provide the same function when it’s needed. Sometimes this may mean making sacrifices, whether it’s rescheduling plans, traveling, or even putting off a book you may want to read to listen to, travel with, or sleep with your partner, but in the grand scheme, it benefits you both.

As much as I was fond of stating all of this, I never really had a relationship in which I could see it work. The UBFM and the Smooshy were emotional drains, the French Boy wanted to rearrange and plan my life for me, the Arrogant Bastard and I never quite found the right balance, the Newf lost interest in me once relationship status was attained… and so on. Really, I could extend this list for quite some time, but those are the most recent and therefore more prominent highlights. Maybe it’s because, as a couple, I never really went through anything major with them, or maybe it’s because they didn’t know how to give or receive support, and maybe I didn’t in return.

I don’t know if it’s a product of ageing, or a product of finally meeting someone who suits me, but I’m learning now what it means to be that support for someone. We haven’t been dating that long overall, but we’ve been through a few highs and lows together – not fights, as we’re both too laid back to go through that, but life highs and lows – and I’ve been there for him for them. I’ve learned that my latent nurturing streak, which came to the fore on occasions, works well. My tendency to run on at the mouth and crack jokes during awkward emotional moments knows when to stop. I’ve learned what it means to be proud of someone, and to be proud to be with someone, things I never entirely understood or accepted when they were previously stated to me. It’s all been a very curious process, and one that I’m not sure I would’ve been ready to accept in the past.

I used to worry I’d never meet someone who could tolerate me for an extended period of time – or that I could tolerate in return. I would either semi-cling to relationships that really had no value except that they represented someone who liked me enough to date me for at least a brief period of time, or I would end relationships that I could see had no future, or involved guys I wanted to beat with my shoe rather than see. I would grow impatient with personality traits and quirks, or I would want increasing amounts of time to myself. I would meet new and more interesting guys, I would hide my relationship status, or I would date multiple people at once, never committing to one over another.

But that was then, and this is now.

posted by Jen on 11:02 PM



Where does the past end and the now begin?

In my quest to find myself my Forever Person, I’ve spent a decent amount of time dating. Consequently, I also have a few exes in my past.

Now, because I don’t consider all of my exes to be horrible, awful, no-good people/mistakes that must be forgotten and removed from the face of the earth, I have a few exes in my present, too. And therein can lie the problem, or so it would seem.

See, I don’t mind having exes in my present; in the past, I had a horrible time keeping exes as friends, because I was often the one getting dumped and having a hard time dealing with the inevitable hurt feelings that resulted. Even in situations where the breakup was at my initiation (or through my fault), I couldn’t seem to let go of the hurt feelings or ‘what ifs’ and so friendships were difficult at best and nigh impossible at worst.

In more recent years, however, I’ve wizened (or at least aged), and I’m able now more frequently able to end things on good terms. Not only that, but my taste in guys has improved greatly over the years, and I’m less interested in cutting all ties completely – as a rule, I date good people and I like to still hang out with them, even if I no longer want to provide them with access to my no-no parts.

However, not everyone can appreciate this method of thinking, and I can imagine it might be a little … daunting … to a potential suitor to meet friends of mine who all get to claim the title of “ex-“; so as a result, I tend to default to referring to everyone as a friend, rather than any other moniker. After all, it’s accurate, and doesn’t lend itself to the inevitable, “And why did you two break up?” line of questions – that even if perfectly natural and valid, could possibly lead someone to becoming nervous about the potential long-term suitability of the current relationship. That is, if the reason I give for the breakup was x and the current boy is quite prone to doing x, I don’t want him to think that’s going to lead to me breaking up with him because of x as well. There can be much that this loquacious one keeps to herself, believe it or not.

Some friendships are more difficult to form than others. When the reasons for the breakup are less clear, or because of difficult circumstances, sometimes it’s more challenging to draw the new boundaries distinctly; is hugging still acceptable? What about cuddling? Touching legs, arms, stomachs? Where does one decide what the current is allowed to touch but the ex- isn’t?

Or, how much information to reveal? I’m notorious for trying to protect peoples’ feelings, believe it or not, and as a result I don’t always tell an ex-, especially one who might still have feelings for me, that I’ve started seeing someone new – especially if I don’t think the current relationship is going to last for a long time, but might’ve had certain advantages that the past one didn’t. Some friends I’ve asked suggest that when a boy becomes an ex-, they no longer have a right to any information from your life; that is, it’s none of their business if you’re dating someone new or not. Obviously this is different of the reason for the breakup was “I’ve met someone new,” but when a new person isn’t the reason for a breakup – maybe they were a catalyst, maybe not – at what point are you obligated to tell your ex(es) that you’re seeing someone new?

I’ve figured out this formula in some form with one long-ago ex-. Of course, it took us some time to get there, including a few friends with benefits situations that kept getting feelings-murky, but we’re now able to hang out as just friends and even discuss people we’re seeing without difficulty. I have other exes where we didn’t have to do the benefits route; we were able to transition seamlessly to friends; and I have one ex- I can think of who tried a booty call one evening, and then I haven’t heard from him since. I’ll admit, it stings a little that he doesn’t have much interest in maintaining some kind of friendship with me, but honestly, do I feel like I’m missing out? Not overly.

Some people will say there’s no point to staying friends with an ex-, that when the relationship ends, that’s it, they’re done. I can respect that, but my perspective is that some of my exes are genuinely nice people – flaws and all – and why should I give up on that friendship or support? Hell, one ex- of mine talked to me until about 3:30 a.m. on Christmas Eve from three provinces away when I was stressing over a boy I was involved with – that’s friendship, and that’s fantastic. Sure, I don’t date boys expecting or hoping to wind up with just friends afterwards, but what kind of jerk would I be if I dismissed a potentially awesome friend just because I already had enough friends? Different people become support nets for different issues, and someone who’s dated you knows you in ways that regular friends don’t – for better or worse for them, and possibly you.

Do you need to go around pointing out your exes to your current? No, I don’t think so, especially if the relationship was long ago or amicably resolved. Maybe if it would help explain a weird dynamic between you, like if you don’t speak to one another in group situations or something, but otherwise, it’s the past, and there it remains. Do I want to know everyone my current has slept with? Not usually, but I find in the beginning of a relationship is usually when I want to learn more about the boy’s past, and what it involved. Granted, there’s nothing worse than an entire evening of, “My ex-girlfriend X this” or “My ex-girlfriend Y that,” but a tale now and again isn’t the worst thing in the world to me, especially before I get heavily emotionally invested and start getting less interested in knowing who else’s no-no parts he may have enjoyed.

Ultimately, I always say that my exes have helped, either positively or negatively, make up who I am today. Sometimes that’s something to be admired – and sometimes it’s just baggage that needs to be explained.

posted by Jen on 1:57 PM



Against my will

I want to start by saying that there is no instance where rape is acceptable. I firmly believe that rape is about power, not sex.

However, I’m not here to write about serious issues – at least, not in that regard. Rather, I want to write about rape fantasies.

Lots of men and women have rape fantasies, yet few people are actually comfortable admitting to this. As you know, I’m very shy and retiring, so this will be challenging for me, but I’ll do my best.

I find the idea of being denigrated verbally, ‘forced’ to engage in a variety of sexual acts, and humiliated in certain ways to be extremely arousing – when it’s carried out by someone I trust implicitly, when I’m in the proper frame of mind, and when it’s done with my consent.

It sounds like something that has to happen when all of the stars and the moon align properly, doesn’t it? Actually, elements of it probably creep into my usual kinks on a daily basis: bondage, domination, submission, and so on are all part of sex that I regularly enjoy, and that play major roles in rape fantasies.

Why do I enjoy rape fantasies? It’s being able to abdicate control to someone else. It’s almost impossible for me to give up control fully, even when I’ve played with BDSM in the past. I have a bit of a brat personality (as I’ve been told), and I tend to top from the bottom a bit – sometimes I taunt my handler, or I make stupid jokes, which is my way of diffusing tension. But to have control taken away from me, to have someone else make the decisions, lead the action, not let me dictate what happens when? That’s really hot.

I also love to be physically thrown about. I’m short, but I’m no lightweight, and to have someone toss me around like I weigh nothing, or next to nothing? That’s a big turn on.

Finally, confidence is incredibly sexy, and when you have someone confident enough to take complete and utter control in the bedroom, well… yum.

But that still isn’t addressing the rape side of things, is it? I’ve asked a few of my male friends about this issue this afternoon, and I’ve gotten conflicting answers, which I might’ve suspected. I had one friend say that the idea of someone who’s into sex is much more arousing than someone who’s fighting it, or doesn’t want it. Another friend said he could be aggressive, but not with someone who’s yelling no and fighting it. On the other hand, I have at least three friends I can think of off the top of my head for whom holding a girl down and doing what he wanted with her body would be an excellent way to spend an evening, so there you are.

There’s no right or wrong to rape fantasies. I certainly have a very short list of guys with whom I’d want to carry them out, and they’re guys that first, I trust implicitly to respect my boundaries and listen when or if I said stop (or whatever safeword that had been chosen in advance), second, who would themselves feel comfortable participating in something of the sort, and wouldn’t wind up horribly emotionally traumatized afterwards, and last, who could see it out. Participating in any kind of ‘non-vanilla’ sex isn’t nearly as fun or arousing if you can sense your partner is only half-heartedly committing to it.

There’s a certain mindset that it helps for a guy to have. In short, a guy who can see a woman as a fucktoy who’s only there to receive his cock and, if she’s lucky, his come – but who doesn’t genuinely feel that way about women; who respects them and adores them and thinks the world of them. As far as the woman’s mindset is concerned, she has to have the self-confidence to recognize that even if he’s calling her a dirty little whore who’s desperate for cock, he doesn’t really mean it – even if she actually is at that point in time.

I suspect I’m not explaining myself well, but it’s a challenging thing to try to articulate. Ask a person why they prefer a certain colour hairstyle, or why feet turn them on, or why they prefer group sex porn, and the answer is likely going to be the same: Because it turns me on. I fully recognize that the idea of being held ‘against one’s will’ or being ‘forced’ to do something or forcing someone to do something is terrifying or repugnant to some. The idea of giving up or taking complete control is terrifying to others. Those people would not and probably cannot relate to my near-slavering desire to being fucked against my will and called a dirty cocktease who’s been asking for it – but I can’t claim to understand coprophiliacs, for example, so I think perhaps we’re even.

Sex in general can be a cathartic release, and bdsm-sex doubly so. Rape fantasies allow people to strip all down to their baser elements and focus only on the immediate demand: the take, rather than the share. For the one who is doing the giving, the trust involved is a gift in and of itself, that should only be given to someone can respect it as such. Basically what I’m trying to get at is: don’t engage in a rape scenario if you don’t trust the other person completely and without doubt. The fact that the scenario involves stripping oneself down emotionally can be scary enough; take away trust and respect, and you’re just begging for trouble. Which isn’t really how it should be – ideally, you should be begging for whatever he’s trying to withhold from you… but only after the proper level of enticement, of course.

posted by Jen on 12:16 AM



The Tenth Circle

At this point in time, I'm 26 years old. I had my first real boyfriend at 14 years, which means I've been dating in some form or another for 12 years.

Of that time, say about eight years has been spent in stable, long-ish term relationships; the remainder has either been spent on hiatus from dating, bemoaning the lack of candidates in my life, or going out on dates.

It's hard sometimes to say which is the worst experience. Being in a relationship has a lovely security to it; it's comforting and wonderful to know twhere's someone there who adores you and wants to spend time with you, listen to your dumb stories, frustrations and triumphs, and maybe wants to share naked smoochies with you now and again. That's when it's good. When it's bad, well -- we've all been there. Which leads to the getting-over stage. If you got dumped by someone you really cared for, that's a pretty unpleasant time.

If you follow the advice I heard once upon a time, the easiest way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Sometimes, that's easier said than done, even for a girl. At least, I've never found these claims that all a girl need do is announce she's horny to get laid, because it's never seemed to work that way for me. Except perhaps on the rare occasions my exes are feeling horny and/or giving, I guess. But that's another series of stories.

Anyhow, being on the lookout for a potential mate is a frustrating task. If your social circles are closed or you're shy, it can be almost impossible to meet boneable types. For that, I admit I do find the internet to be quite useful, especially if, like me, the majority of your appeal lies in your personality over your looks.

Of course, physical attraction is still very important, so even if your personality and whatever best photos you've shared have won someone partway, only an in-person meeting can really complete or scupper the deal.

So you strive to look nice and smell good, and you go out. Conversation might have awkward pauses, you might not be able to think of anything to say, or you might be busy shoving your foot so far down your throat you despair of ever seeing it again. You might not even realize what you're up to, which is arguably worse, especially if you want to keep the other person around for at least one more date and perhaps even a kiss.

Now, depending on the person and the circumstances, you may or may not hear from them again. Sometimes you'll get the 'I had fun/you're great, but I'm not in a relationship place right now.' Sometimes you'll get nothing. I'm sure I've been guilty of this myself, but sometimes I feel I'm not as quick to judge these matters as are the boys. That said, are there any I miss, regret or even remember? Not especially.

Sometimes you'll get further dates. Score, right? Usually at the 2nd or 3rd date mark the two of you -- or maybe just one of you -- have a decent idea of whether or not you'd like to keep seeing each other, and you can move into that nebulous grey area known as 'dating' or 'seeing each other' that typically precedes exclusivity and the boyfriend/girlfriend label.

This region is fraught with peril and landmines for the unwary, emotionally involved or insecure -- clubs to which I not only belong, but chair and write the newsletters.

There are many 'rules' to this realm, and I suspect everyone has their own verison that they apply as or when they see fit. A few I follow, in no particular order, are:

  1. Until exclusivity is declared and agreed to by both partners, it is fair game for either to date other people.

    • Corollary the first: If you two have gotten fairly physical, it's usually a good idea to bring up the subject of whether or not you're going to remain non-exclusive, or if you're going to narrow the playing field to just the two of you.

    • Corollary the second: If you have been dating fairly regularly for a decent length of time, it's probably a good idea to start narrowing the playing field, unless non-exclusivity has already discussed.

  2. I don't call the guy my boyfriend (much as I may want to) until we've either had the conversation about exclusivity or he's called me his girlfriend.

    • Caveat: This rule often gets trumped by friends of either of us referring to us as boyfriend and girlfriend. Not saying I agree with it, simply that it seems to be how things have played out.

    • Corollary: Experience has taught me not to initiate the "are you my boyfriend?" conversation because either I seem to do it wrong, or it automatically triggers fight-or-flight instincts in all boys, regardless of their inclinations. This has also been somewhat supported by male friends.

  3. Much as I might like to, I don't automatically assume that the boy's weekends are for seeing him, and the same goes in return.

  4. It shouldn't be up to me to suggest plans or make phone calls every time. I'm easily discouraged; if I feel the effort is all one-sided, I'm going to assume the boy isn't interested and possibly move on.

  5. Depending on the number of dates or the level of physicality achieved (which sounds geeky, but I think you follow), break-up conversations should take place. Simply no longer contacting someone or ignoring their attempts to contact you is not only not cool, but seriously immature. If you can fuck someone, you should be able to tell them you don't want to fuck them anymore.

  6. You don't have to talk or see each other every day, unless you're trying to indicate to the other person that you really do like them and want to see more of them -- 'cause that's the message it definitely puts across. Obviously you're allowed to change your mind later, but see above for uncool ways to go about indicating that you've changed perspective.

I know I have other rules, but as is always my way, I can't seem to think of them right now. What I'm mainly trying to show is that these rules are arbitrary and individual. Some people may have no interest whatsoever in dating more than one person at a time, so they naturally don't.

I've dated multiple people at the same time, and it has its advantage that you're not spending all of your time obsessing over one person, why they haven't called, whether or not they like you, etc., etc. Because I can be like that. I'm insecure, I'm needy, I'm obsessive, I overanalyze everything, I get discouraged easily... it's a wonder anyone actually manages to talk to me or date me for any length of time.

When I meet someone I really like and they seem to really like me in return (rare as that can be), I want to formalize things and make sure the rules are clearly understood. At the same time, I don't want to scare someone away or seem like I'm insane -- I try not to be. Combined with my preference for honesty and spelling things out to be sure everyone understands (when I'm not busy playing word games or avoiding direct questions -- another bad habit of mine at times), I think sometimes I may either rush things, or terminate them prematurely, either because the guy's freaked out by me, or he thinks I'm no longer interested and ends things.

There have been early-stage dating situations in which I felt completely comfortable, or guys I was seeing with whom I felt completely secure. I raised this issue with a friend once, as an example of why I get so worked up over the less-secure situations, and she asked if I didn't perhaps have more power in the first. I definitely felt as though I had more in those situations, and for whatever messed-up reason, I actually prefer not to be the one in complete control or with a majority of the control. I wind up feeling irritated or frustrated. Apparently I simply can't allow myself to win.

Fortunately, I'm learning about myself and others, and I'm trying to work on my issues.

I'm keeping my moments of insanity isolated as much as I can to venting sessions with friends, and I think it's working in my favour. Insecurity isn't sexy and it's one of my undeclared New Year's resolutions: be more confident. Just because the boy isn't making a move doesn't mean I can't. Apparently aggressive women are sexy, and I know first-hand that confidence is sexy, so if I combine these with the power of my personality (such as it is), I can bring anyone to his knees... provided that's where I want him. After all, I get to call some of those shots, too.

Now if only I was having sex right now...

posted by Jen on 1:51 AM



Only one piece of carry-on allowed

Unless we arrive straight from the stork at the ripe old age of whatever, we all have baggage of some sort or another. It doesn't matter how much or how little you've dated, if you have family, friends or are alive and functioning in the world, there's baggage there.

Let's psychoanalyze me, shall we? After all, it's my site, and I regularly put my neuroses on display, so I don't mind.

To begin, my biggest problem -- I get very upset at having it implied or stated that I'm promiscuous or a whore.

Whiskey tango foxtrot, you say? What about my charming moniker, URL and site name? Oh, well -- I liked the names, and it's a fun persona to adopt to confuse the masses. To know me online is to not know me very well in person.

I also have weird issues about being overtly sexual. Again -- confused? Ditto. I can talk about basically every sexual experience I've ever had, I'm experimental, open-minded, and so on -- but sticking a boob in someone's face, putting their hand on my lady parts, sticking my butt up in the air to ask to be fucked -- hell, wearing the peekaboo Victoria's Secret bra I bought -- can all cause me moments of self-doubt and insecurity.

And don't get me started on interactions with members of the opposite sex. There's a fun back-and-forth, depending on the guy. The short version of that tale is simply that the strong-and-silent types are not my style; while I don't need to know every thought that runs through someone's head, it's love to hear 'I like you/I love you,' 'you're funny/smart/cute/interesting/sexy/etc.' once in awhile.

Now, all of this self-doubting baffles friends who know me in real life. People don't always seem to see past my self-confident exterior, or they don't understand from whence my assorted baggage originates.

While it's tempting to point fingers at my mom, I actually get along fairly well with her, so I don't really want to blame her. At the same time, growing up hearing, 'Don't say/do that, or else you're going to get a reputation!' doesn't seem to set a lady off on the best track. Well, long before I'd ever been beyond more than kissing a guy, I was being called a slut (we're talking elementary school, here), because I was curious about sex, read and retained information about it, and could talk about it maturely. Never mind that it was all very theoretical at that point.

It took some time and a lot of trial-and-error, but I got to where I am now -- and I like who I am, for the most part. I've packed up the majority of my baggage and put a lot of it behind me. Unfortunately, I can't always say the same for everyone else I know.

I think one of the most important lessons we can learn in life is simply that Every Person Is Different. This was the mantra from a now-defunct alt.-group and mailing list I was on, and it applies to so much. What works for one person will not work for the next. If you can't learn this, well... don't know what to tell you, except maybe please don't come onto me.

That said, same thing applies when it comes to baggage and behaviours; just because something Person X does reminds you of something Person Y used to do, it doesn't mean X = Y.

Of course, as with everything I say, I acknowledge that this is only applicable so far. Sometimes the same behaviour pattern will continue, and then you're well-within your rights to decide how you want to go from there. This is where dating comes in handy -- you learn what you wil and won't tolerate, how you react to things, and what you want or require from another person.

One of those is that you are not responsible for the crap behaviour of past partners. Just because someone kissed you on the nose before they said something hurtful doesn't mean that my kissing you on the nose will automatically lead to an insult or slur.

Passive-aggressive behaviour is not cool. If you have a problem with me, tell me. Do not assume I will know that my off-hand remark was triggering something in your psyche. I don't read minds.

I don't read minds, and I don't expect you to, either.

I don't automotically assume all baggage is bad or that we should get over all of our crap immediately. It can take weeks, months, years to even recognize our baggage for what it is, let along move past it -- and sometimes we just won't. I may always be cursed with my defensiveness about my extensive dating past or any 'slut/whore/easy' comments, and that's just how it is. Others may always have issues with hearing people joke about suicide, or small penises, or their weight, or whatever. But I think it's important to recognize our baggage for what it is -- ours, and our own responsibility -- and be able to deal with it accordingly, not expect someone else to carry it for us.

Or, more briefly, a line for some from my past: I am not your exes. Move on.

posted by Jen on 3:45 PM



It's not me, it's you

I’m not always the nicest person.

Hide your shock.

I’ll be the first to admit it; I get impatient, I can be demanding, or difficult, and if I’m hungry or tired, well everything is simply magnified. I’m really somewhat like a baby in that manner.

Now, in addition to that, I’ve dated a lot. I promise, these two things are eventually going to link up.

This year has been a bit of an ‘interesting’ one; I broke up with the guy I’d been seeing since my last birthday, who was known as the Smooshy. I then started dating a friend of a friend, because it was drama-free and casual and easy. I broke up with him when I was becoming interested in other people I’d met. From the runner, I moved on to a bartender, who I dated for a few months. I broke up with him because we weren’t really connecting (or having sex), and because I was interested in a friend – a guy I’d known back pre-Smooshy, actually. That guy and I dated for a few months before I ended things again.

See the pattern? Now, I have to say that the break-ups with the bartender and the runner were mutual; both of us were feeling the end of things, and so they were very easy conversations that had no drama involved. In fact, I’m 99% certain that the runner was trying to booty-call me after things ended, which amused me.

The other two relationships, on the other hand, were a bit different. In short, in both cases, I was being made to feel as though I wasn’t enough for the guy – which is a perfectly fair assessment. But the Smooshy would spend time telling me what I was lacking, or that I should change, yet never offering to change. Or actually tell me how it was I should change in order to improve things. Great for the esteem, as I’m sure you can guess.

Despite the ridiculous chemistry (which quickly abated) between the other guy and I, I found there were a number of personality conflicts that never quite resolved. So I felt the prudent thing to do would be to end things – before I reached the point where I hated him and wanted him dead. That’s never quite the best place to be in a relationship, especially with someone you’re supposed to care about.

Even though two of the endings were mutual (and really, the one with the Smooshy kind of was, except for where he turned into a complete and utter whiny victim, cast me as the villain, and just completely acted a twit), the fact that I had to initiate all four conversations was simply draining, and I’ve decided I’ve had enough. That’s not saying that I want to be dumped – that’s never fun, either.

I’ve wondered sometimes if I’ve dated too much, especially since I seem to keep meeting people who have relationships that last for years on end, or they simply don’t date much at all. Is there something wrong with me in that I can’t meet someone whose interest I hold – or vice versa – for any length of time?

No, I don’t think so. I’ve had people say that they’re picky about who they date, which seems to carry with it an implied, “… and you’re not” element directed my way, but as I’ve said before, I’m learning with every boy I date. I’m learning about myself, I’m learning what I will and won’t tolerate, and I’m learning how to recognize behaviour patterns in people that I don’t deserve and to which I won’t subject myself.

That said, I’ve had conversations with a coworker of mine about marriage and personalities. It’s made me wonder if I was too quick to give up on people in my past; however, the fact that I don’t regret any of the breakups probably means I’ve done the right thing every time. Even the guys who dumped me, I don’t regret.

I know that no one is perfect, myself included. But I also know that no one should put up with regular passive-aggressive behaviour, personal criticisms or anything else that would be demoralizing to them. If someone isn’t making you happy, why are you bothering to stay with them?

So I keep looking and trying to improve myself, in the hopes that maybe someday I’ll meet someone that can tolerate me for longer than a few months, or who that I can tolerate in return. Better than tolerate – I deserve happiness, and I’m always looking for it. I believe I deserve good things, and you know what? I’m going after them.

posted by Jen on 2:26 PM



All of me
It’s About Damn Time

The following piece was written in response to some questions put to me by friends trying to figure out my interests in pain and sex. It evolved from there.

I had a very entertaining night the other night – very entertaining and also very awkward.

At the end of the night, my friends were trying to pin down my thoughts/feelings/attitudes to pain. I was having a tough time articulating them, because they’re all tied up with my thoughts and feelings and attitudes to sex, too. Let’s see if I can lay this out.

Mentally, the idea of spanking, whipping, caning, exposing myself, wearing binding outfits, being restrained, being denied orgasm (maybe), being made to or brought to orgasm, simply being out of control – all of these things are arousing and very much part of the spank bank, as it were. I have no problem owning up to and embracing what turns me on when it’s me alone with my body; it’s when another person enters the picture that things get difficult.

Despite my fantasies, I’m not an exhibitionist by nature. I get self-conscious when I’m under scrutiny, even if it’s just from my partner. I wonder if I’m making the right faces, the right noises, moving enough… unless I’m really aroused and therefore distracted enough not to care – but it isn’t always easy to get me to that point, either because I’m challenging, or because my brain gets in the way.

My experience combining pain with pleasure has been unusual, to say the least – or at least maybe not as common. Pain, in the right circumstances, is a sexual experience for me. As previously stated, whips, spanking and so on, arouse me. I have played with pain, but had very little sexual contact with my tormentor. This was agreed to ahead of time, and wasn’t an issue, for the most part.

However, because my tormentor wasn’t a “sex” partner, that and the whole ‘awkward in new circumstances’ side of my personality combined to ensure that I was never 100% relaxed and comfortable. So I act the smartass (hooray for defence mechanisms).

I did experiment a little with my ex-, too, but there a different set of problems arose. Although he paid lip service to an interest in the harder side of things, it was almost always up to me to initiate, which seemed to translate into a lack of real interest, to my mind. So combine a perceived lack of commitment to the cause with my dead sex drive and submissive inability to start up anything, and what you get is two instances of spanking, one of me tying him up, and some three-quarter-hearted whacks on the butt during sex (which always screws up a guy’s rhythm). Then throw in some whining on his part about how boring our sexy life is, but a resistance to me going off the pill and an inability on his part to step up and actually effect any changes on his own, without me leading, and you have a snapshot of several months of my life.

Abdicating control turns me on. Being shoved up against a wall, being manhandled. Being pinned by the wrists and unable to move. Letting someone else lead – as long as they know what they’re doing. But these are all moves that require confidence to carry out. I can sense fear (okay, maybe not). But if I’m able to pick up on uncertainty or a lack of follow-through, I can’t really get on board. If you’re going to fuck me, fuck me – don’t start out fucking and then switch to loving caresses or gentle thrusts. Commit!

Okay, so some of this hyperbole, and it’s up to you to figure out what, but I think (hope), I’m getting some of this across. I’ve said for years that confidence is sexy, and that goes hand-in-hand with having the ability to make me believe you’re enjoying whatever it is you’re doing to me – you aren’t just watching as a bemused spectator, secretly marvelling that anyone would enjoy the action, but going along with it because there’s nothing good on tv, and hey, at least you’re getting some.

I complain sometimes about not meeting guys who treat me the way I treat them – willing at times to just get the other off, with no further expectations – but I know that I sometimes paint them into that box. Because I’m uncomfortable being the focus of attention, and I’m difficult and don’t want anyone to get frustrated, I’ll often dissuade someone from spending too much time on me – a problem of my own making, full-circle.

I know that the grown-up, rational thing to do is be patient and explain to the boys in my bed how I like things, but I’ve never really figured out the best method for doing so. The first time together is too soon, in my opinion, and sometimes it just seems as though the lessons never stick – there are only so many times I can ask the same thing of someone before I just give up in frustration – and stay frustrated.

I’d thought that I would have some of this figured out by now, although I don’t think I’m doing too poorly. I’ve certainly improved from where I once was.

Going off the pill has helped immeasurably, too; for the first time in almost a year, I have a highly active sex drive that’s once again had the fantasies returning with an impressive frequency. It may also help that it seems as though everyone around me happens to be kinky, which naturally lends itself to interesting and at times exciting conversations.

I’ve been told by some that I have a high tolerance for pain. I’m not sure if it’s that or I’m just stoic, but in any case, it can take a lot to get me to say ow. I’ve also been known to laugh my way through some sexual-pain experiences – but I put that down to a combination of enjoyment and nerves. In at least one scenario, while I did want to continue pushing to see how or if things would escalate, I also theoretically knew better.

Which is another aspect of my personality – I’m bad at first moves (or rather, I pretty much don’t ever make them), so I tend to push others into making them. It’s like I’m not confident enough early on in a relationship to feel as though my advances would be welcomed. Either that or I just prefer being chased, and find someone else making first moves to be much sexier. Probably both. Maybe I should work on this; kiss a boy first. On it goes to the list of things to do.
I’ve had a bit of a non-discussion recently with a male friend about sex, big surprise. Mainly we’ve just raised the question, ‘why do guys always want to rush into sex?’ (my question), and his answering, ‘why do girls always want to wait?’, although that seems somewhat contradicted now by his statement yesterday that once he has a girl half-naked, he usually gets laid. Apparently Seinfeld did have the right track when the characters said that ‘sex begins when the nipples come out.’

I tend to waiver back and forth from relationship to relationship as to how quickly I do or want to sleep with someone. There are a lot of different factors for this, but the two main ones are fundamentally selfish: one, I’m difficult to get off or sometimes even turn on, so I want to have a decent idea that the guy and I are compatible (i.e., he has some clue of what’s going on with a woman’s body) before we get to knocking boots, and two, I’d rather not regret things. I have had a fair bit of bad sex, but only a few occasions I can point to and go, ‘now that was a mistake.’ It’s how I like to live my life – few regrets. Sure, the experience might not be something I regret in the end, but if I don’t care that it happened one way or the other, isn’t that almost the same thing?

Beyond that, I enjoy anticipation and arousal. It’s fun to learn different ways of making each other gasp and moan, and it’s something we don’t always take the time to do when sex enters the picture. After all, once we’ve crossed the final hurdle, there’s often an implied need to get there each time after that.

Notice I said implied need. Of course I don’t believe that penetrative sex is the be-all and end-all of sexual encounters. There is, after all, a reason we’ve been given hands, lips, tongues and a brain. But does it not seem as though, at least for a little while after having sex for the first time, every subsequent encounter ends with sex? What happened to the time spent kissing, licking, biting and sucking all the other fun body parts? Why do ears, necks, shoulders, chests, feet, hands and so on seem to miss out on the fun once the dirty parts enter the playing field?

Maybe I’m just too creative for me own good – or too much of the playful/tease sort. I have a few friends whose turn-ons include fairly tame, public-safe acts: hair pulling, being clawed by nails, biting, etc. (okay, so it depends on your ‘public’, it’s true). I may have never kissed or otherwise touched these friends in a sexual manner, but it’s unlikely anyone would say they haven’t enjoyed themselves – but wouldn’t things change if we had had sex?

Maybe for the better, it’s true. A friend has observed that people touch differently after they’ve slept together. I’ve never consciously noticed, but I’m sure it’s true. I’m sure shenanigans would continue to be amusing post-sex, but I’m having a blast in the meantime (and I can fantasize all I want about how awesome the sex would be without reality intruding!).

I’m sure many would say I seem somewhat defensive right now, and I’ll admit they may have a point. But when it comes to sex, especially sex with someone new, I really want to want them before I jump them, and that often takes time with me. My last new partner, I really wanted. There was semi-serious consideration being given to us having sex on a Greyhound bus, and if it wouldn’t have been our first time, then it would’ve been done. My partner before that? I sort of wish I’d waited a bit longer; story of my life, really.

Engage my mind, respect my body – respect me – and your odds improve. Pressure me, whine, beg or treat me poorly, and for some reason your odds drop.

Throw me up against a wall, kiss me properly, bite and lick my neck right, and don’t try to tear off my nipple or rough up my insides, and your odds may improve dramatically.

So, do I make sense yet, damnit?

posted by Jen on 3:16 PM



Nice guys don’t finish last

A friend of mine recently updated his site with a discussion of how nice guys finish last – that classic chestnut.

His post detailed how he’s a nice guy, yet he can’t seem to catch a break as far as relationships are concerned – that standard refrain.

Now, I should say – I feel for him. I do. He is a nice guy, and he deserves to find someone suited to him. But when he trots out the standard, “I should just be an asshole – girls only ever seem to want to date assholes,” I’m getting ready to smack him.

Most girls – ideally the ones that you would want to date – do not want assholes. I’ve dated assholes; I’m not with them now for that very reason. Huh – I’ve dated a lot of assholes.

Fortunately, I’ve also dated a fair handful of nice guys – genuinely nice guys. I remember each of them very warmly and fondly, and parts of me regret that the relationships had to end.

Here’s the thing – some people are very lucky and find their Perfect Someone easily on in life. I have several friends like this, and I hate them. No, I’m happy for them. But I’ve been the single one in a crowd of couples many times, so I understand feeling lonely or alone, or like you’ll never seem to find someone for you.

But here’s the thing – acting like or being an asshole is not the way to win the ladies. Granted, it does seem to work for some people, but we fully expect her to wake up one day and realize who or what she moved in with. But, her problem – not mine.

The mistake most “nice guys” (and even some assholes) seem to make is that they idolize their ladyfriend. Most women are not looking for this. We need men who can love us and recognize that we burp, fart, pee, poop, bleed, hurt, cry, get angry, have good days, have bad days – in short, are people as well as hot, sexy women. We don’t need to be protected from the world, and we aren’t comfortable with you pretending that aspects of us – physical and emotional realities – don’t exist, because it doesn’t fit in with your perception of us as precious things that are always pretty, smooth, smell nice and are perfectly coiffed and attired. Don’t buy into the societal bullshit that says women are delicate little flowers – we aren’t. At least, most of us aren’t (for more on this subject, you can see a rant of mine on the subject of independence and friendship at my other site. If you really want to read more.).

We also don’t need guys to be delicate flowers or pushovers. We might get frustrated or angry or upset if you disagree with us or even state your opinion, but that doesn’t mean we’ll stop caring about you. Mind you, this might apply to me more than some – I can have a bit of a steamroller personality.

I think most people want to date a person, not a ‘type of’ person. We may appreciate certain personality characteristics, but we recognize that just because someone has, for example, geeky tendencies, doesn’t mean they can’t also be jocks or cooks or whatever. I think this means assholes can show up in many forms – as can nice guys.

If I had any advice for the nice guys that keep getting dumped on, it would come in a few parts. One, take stock of yourself. The two biggest assholes I’ve dated routinely claimed they were ‘nice guys’ – usually with the wounded tone that seemed to imply all was my fault, and how dare I be upset at them!? Sometimes nice guys aren’t. In my experience, the truly nice ones don’t have to keep telling you they are.

Two. Examine your actions. Do you voice your opinion, or just kowtow to hers? Do you make plans outside of her life, or are you always waiting for a hint from her as to what to do next? Do you allow her to be human and have bad moods, or do you act like a kicked puppy when she gets upset in your vicinity? Nice doesn’t equal pushover, wimp, or weak.

Three. Keep trying. Getting dumped sucks – I know, I’ve been there. But you’ll find someone, I promise. And if you’re lucky, you won’t have to tell her you’re nice – she’ll see that side of you with no problem.

posted by Jen on 3:23 PM



Confidence? Who says I have confidence?

I recently turned my attention to a bit of self-realization: the more I like someone, the more neurotic I get (to which I was told by a friend, "Duh, you're a girl"). You'd think age and experience would lead more to self-assurance and confidence, but alas -- still that brain part quivers and twitches, semi-desperate to be loved, but still playing it oh-so-casually -- or at least as calmly to the other person as possible. Dear lord, I hate dating.

I don't remember relationships being so hard when I was younger -- in fact, I know they weren't. It went proximity + crush = relationship, problem solved for x.

Now, not so much. Sure, we all form our first impressions of someone in the first 7-30 seconds of meeting them, and sure, first dates are the worst situations known to man (on par with job interviews), but is it just me, or do people just not want to make the effort anymore?

Maybe I really am desperate to be loved, though I don't actually think that's the case, but it seems as though 99% of the time, the boy has given up earlier than I might've been inclined.

Now, two things here to address -- I'm referring primarily to those dating situations from the last few years, and not so much the relationships. While even those might've ended before I was ready, I've dealt with it and moved on, with perhaps a minor exception or two. Everyone's allowed their Waterloo.

Secondly, I've never pretended to understand guys, but the one thing I can conclude from all this dating and rejection is the common denominator in it all -- yours truly. No, this is not the bid for pity that it may seem. Quite the opposite, actually -- I recognize that I am a unique and special sort who requires not just anyone to complement me, and cope with my neuroses. I will look, instead, to my so-called failures from this positive perspective: rather than being repulsed by my hair/body/face/voice/perseonality/perfume/sense of humour/whaever -- these guys recognized that they did not have the special traits I require (a kinky side!), and therefore couldn't live up to my needs, and so they elected to move on, rather than, as would be inevitable, disappointing me.

How's that for vanity? Hah! Sure, I've been rejected or brushed off many times in the past, but I've gotten fairly blasé about dealing with it. While male attention is nice and all, I recognize that not every guy I meet is automatically going to think I'm awesome, and that's fine -- it spares me the burden of having to be equally interested in them, especially if I'm not.

* * *

It's time to break that fourth wall a little more than usual, not that it ever really happens to stay firmly in place for long around here. See, sometimes I get an idea and start an article, but don't immediately finish it in one sitting. There it languishes, reminding me of my obligations and its needs, until I return to it and either finish and (eventually) post it, or decide it's crap and try for something new.

When I first started that article, I was in the process of dating a few people, and I was feeling somewhat girly-stupid about one of them. Things were going well, and I was allowing myself to get a little neurotic, but more or less keeping it in check. Fortunately, I don't seem to stay too neurotic too long anymore.

The funny part, and what demonstratesthat my life is vaguely reflected in this site, is that since I started this article, my perspective has changed somewhat.

See, I've met someone, and I feel... secure. My self-doubting voice is silent, and I feel confident that he genuinely likes and cares for me, too. Usually; I am still me, after all.

Anyhow, I'm not feeling -- at least overall -- my semi-usual neuroses, and I consider that a good sign. I've found someone with whom I'm a good fit -- he's smart, funny, interesting, considerate, cute, sexy, and wonder of wonders, has been fooled into thinking I'm these things -- and I'm happy. Funny how things work out, eh?

Life is good.

posted by Jen on 4:58 PM



In exchange for a real update...

A meme stolen from Sweetness Follows.

-Copy this entire list into your blog/journal
-Bold everything that is true about you.
-Leave alone anything that is false about you.
-Place an asterisk by anything that you would like to be true about you.

I have had sex while wearing a blindfold.
I have blindfolded someone during sex.
I have had sex while watching porn.
I have had sex while surfing porn on the internet.
I sleep better after sex.
There are some nights when I can’t sleep without sex or masturbating.
The bed is Not my favourite place to have sex.
I get turned on knowing someone is watching me masturbate.
I have masturbated for someone over a webcam.
I have had sex over a webcam.
I will have sex with someone I just met if he/she turns me on.
I have been tied up during sex.
I have had sex with someone who was tied up.
I have dripped hot wax on a lover’s body.
I have had a lover drip hot wax on my body.*
I have a foot fetish.
I have a leather fetish.
I have a tickle fetish.
I like being choked during sex.
I have had sex in a burning building.
I have erotic art on display somewhere in my residence.*
I enjoy nudie magazines.
Erotic toys are a regular part of my budget.
I think PlayBoy is tame, maybe even boring.
I have clicked on porn links in my email.
I know the difference between girl/girl and lesbian sex in porn.
I have watched more than one gay/lesbian porn film.
Much of what I know about sex comes from porn.
Interracial sex turns me on.
I think we should do more to understand the cultures of sex.
I would participate in sex research if given the opportunity.
My current lover does not meet my sexual needs.
I currently have a crush on someone of the same sex.
I have had sex at my place of employment.
I am often disappointed in my sexual relationships.
Some people might describe me as a nymphomaniac.
I am difficult to live with if I’m not having sex on a regular basis.
I sleep better with someone curled up next to me.
I have had sex underwater.
I have had sex in the snow.
I am in a polyamorous relationship.
I have to have music playing during sex.
I have had more than 10 orgasms in one night.
I have flashed strangers.
I have given sex as a gift.
I have set-up a three-way for my lover.
I stopped during this list to have sex.*

posted by Jen on 9:13 AM



Thank you, g’bye now!

Last night I had the increasingly-rare opportunity to spend time one-on-one with one of my close friends.

The conversation jumped around from subject to subject (as happens when I’m involved), then eventually turned to sex (as some people claim happens when I’m involved). He’s gettin’ some regular lovin’; I’m not.

But as is my way, I’m okay with that for now, because my hormones are currently in hibernation again – at least until this or that person crosses my path (but that’s a vaguely emo whine that’s neither here nor there).

However, just because I’m not actively seeking sex or humping the leg of every and any available attractive man who crosses my path, doesn’t mean I’m not going completely without. Exes can be a valuable resource to tap for – well, tapping that.

Many friends roll their eyes in frustration when I let them in on secrets of my (sort of) private life, so lately I haven’t always been yelling from the rooftops any time I’mma get me some. The friends who would be privy to the knowledge are the same ones who’ve nursed me through varying degrees of heartbreak, so they’re certainly justified in their concern – or frustration – about me visiting a well-worn path.

In one case, the concern is more for the other person, and I share that, as well as a desire to do no more damage than I already have, so even if my hormones are standing up and begging for attention, I ignore ‘em. Mostly.

But in other instances, when the opportunity is there and there is no desire on my part to start anything anew, and strings are notably absent, I feel that my friends’ concerns are unwarranted. What we’re talking about is strings-free, emotionally-absent, no-frills sex, and it has its place.

Again, I may seem as though I’m coming off awfully hypocritical, claiming to want strings-included (heh, and rope-, blindfold-, and even in some cases, whips- and paddles-included) sex, while having very infrequent no-strings sex.

I can justify this to myself – let’s see if you agree. I’m not interested in no-strings sex with someone who’s a relative stranger to me. There is no draw to me in a situation such as that. In these circumstances, however, there used to be a relationship, and there used to be feelings, and there’s always been good sex, so the drive for me to please and be pleased exists. Admittedly, it’s greatly tempered by the rest of the circumstances (and those damn hibernating hormones), but it’s there.

The curious part (to me), however, is just how removed I feel from the situation. In part because of my new, grown-up schedule and need for an earlier bedtime, and my knowledge that this is what it is, and a romantic situation is what it is not – I don’t feel the same need for all the solicitous attention or whatnot that is an accepted, and in my opinion, required, part of relationships and sex.

By that I mean, there’s no hand-holding, no flirting, no sleepovers, no cuddling unless it’s a lead-up to sex, and the post-sex cuddling is equally limited. In fact, post-coitally, some nights I’m ready to clean up and go to bed almost immediately after – it’s not that I want him to leave, exactly… but his part is done, we’re both satisfied – why are you still here?

Actually, that line of conversation led to me saying one of the funnier and more insensitive things I’ve said recently, which sent both of us off laughing once more. On the subject of leaving afterwards, and how I’m ready for sleeping, alone: “…but he just won’t get the hint, he keeps trying to cuddle afterwards!”

Maybe you had to be there. I’m not trying to be insensitive to anyone in these circumstances – I’m not about to slap him on the ass and send him on his way when it’s over, just as I’d be angry if he did that to me – but I guess I just have no interest in pretending that this is more than it is. I like to keep the sweet-and-tender moments for the guys I have sweet-and-tender feelings for; not the ones from whom I just want a (not too) quick toss.

I’d certainly give up the toss in favour of the sweet-and-tender in a minute, if I could find the guy who fits my criteria (and likes me equally in return). But in the meantime, why spare myself (and him) the occasional moment or two of unattached pleasure?

posted by Jen on 3:44 PM



Things I obsess about, vol. 12167

Once you reach a certain age, I sex that big of a deal anymore?

Does the thrill of a new partner die off past that magic age?

Does it matter how many times that land has been claimed before you claim it?

Are these concerns, these questions – are they all a gender thing?

Or, more realistically, is this just my overanalytical nature once again coming to the fore?

I was thinking the other day about the demeanour of my last conquest, as it concerned bedroom expectations, and even then it struck me as somewhat... apathetic, almost. Maybe that’s unfair – apathetic isn’t entirely accurate, but maybe unconcerned would be apt.

Call me overly cautious or a romantic or whatever adjective you’d like, but for me sex is still better when I know someone and feel something for them. It doesn’t have to be love, but I like for it to be more than just boredom, or for lack of anything better to do for the next twenty or thirty minutes.

That may sound hypocritical given my use of the term conquest earlier, but for those of you who haven’t figured it out by now, the Drunken Whore is about 50% persona, 50% me. I can’t – or won’t – use names or specifics in my writings, so what you read here could all pertain to only one or two guys... it’s just written in such a way as to sound like more. Ah, language – how you is my abused and manipulated bitch. Moving on.

I’ve tried sex for sex’s sake, and I’ve learned it isn’t for me. That was a big part of my Lavalife turn-offs; too many guys there state that what they want is to sleep with a woman for awhile, then decide if there’s enough there for a relationship. My aunt said this same sentiment is expressed by guys her age – good to know this won’t change.

Now, call me selfish, but if I’m not that into someone, I don’t particularly care whether or not they’re having a good time, unless I’m trying to prove something to myself (or maybe them). Otherwise, if I care that someone leaves my bedroom happy, they do. I’m like Hallmark – I care enough to send (do?) my very best.


But, if I were to have a one-night stand with some random guy (definitely not speaking from personal experience, if you were wondering), I’m not too worried about whether he leaves amazed at the teasing and depth of my foreplay abilities – I’m more concerned if we got our rocks off, and if not, if the experience was otherwise worth it and/or repeating.

But, that’s me – I do know of people who play the bed-hopping game and have a good time. Power to ‘em, I guess.

But there seems to be a trend that, for lack of any other indicators, I’ll tie to age, of sex becoming less and less “special” (I know, I know, sorry), the older and/or more experienced we get.

Maybe I’m choosing the wrong partners, but it seems as though sex has become no big deal, just a way to kill off an afternoon or an evening, and as a result, there’s an expectation of sorts on the part of the guy that being naked equals having sex. And that this will happen fairly early on in the “relationship.”

No, I’m not a cocktease. As I said, anyone in my bed that I want to leave satisfied, generally does. But I don’t feel that the first time I’m naked with a boy, I have to have penetrative sex with him. There’s lots of fun things to do with boy parts and girl parts that doesn’t have to involve putting them together.

It’s good to be able to recognize that you may not feel ready to sleep with someone yet, and be able to stand your ground and say so. As much as I try to live my romantic life with few regrets, I do sometimes wish I’d waited longer in some cases, or hadn’t let them “persuade” (I don’t want to say “push,” yet I sort of do) me into sleeping with them when I did. If the relationship is worth it, waiting for the sex isn’t – and shouldn’t – be a problem. If what you’re after is a fling or a one-night stand, that’s obviously a different story.

Maybe I’m just a romantic, but I still want to feel some kind of excitement at the prospect of bouncing someone around a bed for the first, second, third or third-dozenth time. As a huge advocate of teasing and extended foreplay, I say with all sincerity, there’s something (many things!) to be said – many positive – about anticipation. Not to mention, a few sessions of bed-bouncing can give me a good idea of what to expect and a chance to decide if I do, in fact, want to go that final step.

I’m sure some of you are questioning my various reasons for being reticent about Going All The Way – after all, I’m old, wise, mature, etc., etc., what’s the big deal? – and in some cases the reluctance is situational, but overall, I am always aware and self-conscious of My Number.

It’s not huge, but when you’re surrounded by people who’ve been with only one or two people, because they met and married their high school sweetheart or some such, there are times I efel as though I’m being regarded as the village bicycle.

Also, as I wrote in an epic post on my other site, because I can talk, write, and joke about sex (also mime, if I’m feeling especially goofy), it seems to be presumed by some that I’m having sex all the time. Hell, even my own mother seems to assume that if I spend any length of time with a guy that I’m dating and/or sleeping with him.

Of course, I could just be overly sensitive, but that’s a whole ‘nother story or twelve.

Anyhow, when it comes to our pasts and our numbers, many people tend to engage in some editing. American Pie 2 brought forth the “Rule of 3,” and I’m sure there are people who use it, or something similar. Personally, I’ve always been totally honest about my numbers, to myself and others, but that hasn’t stopped me from wishing I could do a little creative editing.

So, I started wondering what rules I would put in place to bring my number down a little without seeming like I was trying to lie. So far, I’ve come up with a few (all optional, depending on who you want to remove from your past and what it takes, within reason, to eliminate them):

1. Cross off anyone you slept with on two or fewer occasions, and/or for 2 or fewer occurrences.

2. Cross off anyone that the majority of your friends don’t know bout, unless it was for longer than a few weeks.

3. Cross off anyone where all aspects of the sex were consistently really bad (hopefully ties in #1, but some people are eternal optimists).

That’s as far as I’ve gotten, really, and that helps to eliminate a few names I don’t mind seeing gone.

Anyone have others? I think my only real restriction is that you can’t eliminate anyone you had a full relationship with, or that you slept with over an extended period of time – as much as I’d like to remove two guys from my past roster, it’s tough to make an 8-month or 3-year relationship just disappear.

So, everyone join in the fun – what rules would you put in place to decrease your number? It’s the game the whole family can play!

posted by Jen on 2:00 PM



The (Not-So)Secret Lusts of The Drunken Whore

So, anyone who wants to help send me here, for my birthday, you're welcome to donate to the fund.

I promise lots of happy pictures and so on for those that help to contribute. Or something else exclusive that I can offer people for incentive!

*sobs* I know, I'm pathetic. But I started watching season 6 of Buffy again and my lust for James Marsters has been re-awakened. *cries* I'm sorry...

But I'm getting old this year! I need pity! And so on!

Okay, I just want to lick James Marsters. That's not really a big secret. You can help make my dream come true!

posted by Jen on 11:50 PM


Apparently a how-to guide for sex with me. In reality, me just talking about my thoughts and experiences in love, sex and relationships.

10/01/2002 - 11/01/2002 11/01/2002 - 12/01/2002 12/01/2002 - 01/01/2003 01/01/2003 - 02/01/2003 02/01/2003 - 03/01/2003 03/01/2003 - 04/01/2003 04/01/2003 - 05/01/2003 05/01/2003 - 06/01/2003 06/01/2003 - 07/01/2003 07/01/2003 - 08/01/2003 08/01/2003 - 09/01/2003 09/01/2003 - 10/01/2003 10/01/2003 - 11/01/2003 11/01/2003 - 12/01/2003 12/01/2003 - 01/01/2004 01/01/2004 - 02/01/2004 02/01/2004 - 03/01/2004 03/01/2004 - 04/01/2004 05/01/2004 - 06/01/2004 06/01/2004 - 07/01/2004 07/01/2004 - 08/01/2004 08/01/2004 - 09/01/2004 10/01/2004 - 11/01/2004 01/01/2005 - 02/01/2005 02/01/2005 - 03/01/2005 03/01/2005 - 04/01/2005 04/01/2005 - 05/01/2005 05/01/2005 - 06/01/2005 06/01/2005 - 07/01/2005 07/01/2005 - 08/01/2005 08/01/2005 - 09/01/2005 01/01/2006 - 02/01/2006 07/01/2006 - 08/01/2006 12/01/2006 - 01/01/2007 01/01/2007 - 02/01/2007 02/01/2007 - 03/01/2007 05/01/2007 - 06/01/2007 09/01/2007 - 10/01/2007 01/01/2009 - 02/01/2009

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