Let's get over this

My darling wife reminded me of the conventional wisdom that it takes half the duration of a relationship to 'get over it' once it has ended. Mon Amore and I were together for 45 months, meaning I should 'be over it' in April of 2012. You know, if the world hasn't already ended by that point.

Disorientation

Not long after my split from Mon Amore, some friends from the world of fringe theatre was consoling me over a drink. They began pondering who they might fix me up with 'What guys do we know that are good enough for Kinsey'? I told them guys weren't the only or even necessarily the primary market for me, of which they were apparently totally unaware before. This led to the inevitable question of identity and labels. What I came up with on the spot was that these days, I am:

sexually disoriented.

there's an app for that!

I recently pontificated that if my Kobo, iPod, and vibrator were all one magical device that could also tell me how great my ass looks in those jeans and that I'm way prettier than my ex's new flame, I would pretty much never have any need for a Significant Other again.*

Listener's response: There's got to be an app for that!

*except for the part that a magical literary/musical/film/orgasm inducing/self-esteem device can't hold you at night or go to the pharmacy for you when you're sick.

just that time and that song

I should probably start by saying, because I don't believe that I have yet, that Mon Amore and I went our separate ways back in June.

In August I moved from Colorado back to my home town in Nova Scotia.

Yeah, I know, I never post, one more excuse, I probably have zero readers. Whatever. I write because I can't help but write, I'll try once again to do more of it in this forum than on paper or never going past my personal screen.

The next thing that I'm going to say is how not being in a relationship, and specifically not being in my relationship with Mon Amore has sort of re-opened some questions for me about my own sexuality. I used to be fairly solid in my gay-ness, but always allowed for the possibility of being attracted to or loving anyone. Then I found myself in a relationship with a wonderful man with whom I'd been friends for many years. At first I had a certain sort of defensiveness about my sexuality, some sort of need to justify myself or prove that I was still queer 'enough'

"Queer enough for whom, Kinsey?"

Queer enough for all of the Lesbians with a capital L who glared at me for holding his hand at GLBTTQQIA spaces and events, that's who. I never expected to experience discrimination and dirty looks for being a 'hetero' couple. I'd also like to add that, quite honestly, my relationship with Mon Amore was far more queer than any other I've been in, if we are going to use that term to indicate non-normative in some manner, challenging established and binary systems.

I came to a point at which for the most part I would pretend, in the majority of casual company and situations, to be straight, and always to have identified that way in an attempt to protect every other queer person from the old 'oh well they just need to find the right man/woman' bullshit that so many spout. I wasn't going to be used as evidence of that. I would put part of myself out of the public preview for the sake of the community. It might sound noble, it might sound stupid. It probably was a bit of both. I think largely I just got tired of explaining myself and seeing that 'I told you so!' look on people's faces.

So, now I'm single. I am very adamantly single. I have in fact made the decision that I will continue to be for at least the rest of 2011. I will not be anyone's someone during that time.

I have already reached the bench mark of having been single for the longest period in my adult life thus far - having only really been in two serious relationships. I have decided that I need to be me, on my own, without the influence, however positive, of anyone else in that way. I need to be completely my own person, because people are different in relationships. They just are. That doesn't mean that they necessarily cease to be themselves, but we are different when we are with different people, sometimes it's good for us, sometimes it is not.

Being single does not mean being alone at all times, by which I mean, I'm not a monk. I have been left with much to ponder about loves and lusts past and present regarding exactly who interests me and in what ways, and what that suggests to me about my own identity now. I'm sticking with 'queer.' I am not enjoying how frequently I have to define that word and what it means to/for me, especially to health-care providers, but there you have it.

Kinsey: on my own, still here, still queer.

Get used to it.

Revelation

Hi internet,

I know I've been more conspicuously absent than usual, but then, only if you were ever paying attention in the first place.

I just had something to share: I just made myself ejaculate without being high for the first time ever. Ejaculation is not unknown or even uncommon for me, but very, very difficult to manage by myself, and on the rare occasions it has happened, it has been after smoking.

Here's yet another pledge to post more and actually update you (few, and valued) readers on where the hell I've been and what my excuses are this time.

xo, Kinsey

You want me to kiss you after that!?

I have a hypothetical vampire-sex question. (Shut up, I'm watching 'True Blood')
So, there are those people who, for reasons I completely fail to understand, are unwilling to kiss their partner after said partner has performed oral sex on them, at least not before they gargle or brush their teeth or whatever. In the case of vampire-human sex in particular, because I assume this would be kind of a non-issue with vampire-on-vampire action, would there be those who after being bitten (presumably during sex) would refuse to kiss their blood-sucking lover prior to that lover cleaning their -the human's blood out of their mouth/off their face?
OR, is it possible actually that there would even be those vampires who would be unwilling to be kissed with their own blood on their partner's mouth?
OR, is it completely ridiculous that I'm making blood and sexual fluids analogous in this situation?

Vagazzle (NSFW)

Folks,
apparently the latest trend in very personal grooming is VAGAZZLING. It is more less exactly what it sounds like, the application of crystals to one's vaginal area. YEAH. Said area is, of course, completely denuded of hair. It seems to be that this is assumed for vagazzling - no one has pubic hair anymore.


IF PEOPLE JUST LEFT THE DAMN HAIR WHERE IT WAS MAYBE THEY WOULDN'T THEN NEED TO ADD RHINESTONES. just a thought. Are people really so terrified of the vagina that they need to make it look like a tiara? I can only imagine vagazzling being a SERIOUS turn-off. Naked pussy is bad enough, but excessively decorated pussy? My dear friend who alerted me to this trend made the excellent point, "What if they fall off when they shouldn't? Do people choke on them?" Any man or woman I encountered who, after removing their underwear was covered in crystals down there (because apparently the upscale places only use swarovski crystals, thank you very much) would have me laughing and then immediately running in the opposite direction. Rugburn is bad enough, I don't need my face, hands, or naughty bits getting chafed and cut up by fucking crystals.
It's like turning the vagina into a museum piece, locked behind plate glass - look, but don't touch because I can't imagine possibly being able to have any kind of sex comfortably with someone who's man or lady bits were bedazzled. And, oh year, penazzling is also apparently a thing.