My Obsessions

I have a total hard-on for Mad Men, True Blood and Dexter.

Three shows with very different fucked up male leads, and they’re the ones that turn me on the most. My fave male characters on television are ones that would ignore me, lie to me or make me bleed.

Must write a blog post about it soon. On chivalry, chauvinism and blood?

Realizations: I Am My Own Worst Enemy

No, I’m not talking about the Christian Slater cancelled NBC drama that I and perhaps only two other people really enjoyed (don’t judge me!). I’m referring to how sometimes being eclectic can get the best of me leaving me feeling lazy, indecisive and annoyed with myself.

I don’t relax well. That’s not to say that I can’t do it. I can plant my ass on the couch and watch six episodes of True Blood in a row just as well as the next person – not that I did that yesterday at all, pffffft – but I have a hard time with enjoying it and not feeling guilty. And then feeling guilty for feeling guilty because I know that it’s a stupid way to feel, and a waste of an emotion.

I spend a lot of time finding out about local events, things that I want to see alone, with Steph, on a date or with friends, but sometimes it seems impossible to get something organized. Steph and I are both terrible procrastinators, and it’s often hard to get him enthusiastic about things, plus lately we really have to watch our spending after I had to buy new Lappy here and take one of our kitties to the vet in an emergency.

Point is, I always feel like I should be doing something away from home. This past weekend I had grand plans to do a lot of shopping / preparation to get ready for my pin up shoot this coming Saturday and when I realized I had no money to buy the things I really didn’t need anyway I didn’t know what to do with myself. I sat around at home, did a little gardening, some suntanning, things that a lot of people really enjoy – and yet … I felt empty and lazy and embarrassed. At least I went to a party on Saturday night or else I’d feel really fucking lame. And it’s not that I think other people who lounge around are lame at all, I merely envy their ability to enjoy it. Life’s simple pleasures.

I wanted to be with people sharing conversations and experiences. Even if hanging out on a patio drinking a beer or people watching at Harborfront isn’t exercise, I feel lazy when I sit at home instead. Maybe it’s a personal trainers guilt thing, maybe I’m really conscious of the size of my belly lately (it’s staying the same size while other parts shrink slowly making it look bigger in comparison), so I’m aware of it more when I’m chilling out at home – even in our awesome backyard. At least when I’m on a patio I got out of the house, right? That counts towards not being a lazy fat slob?

It’s similar to my sex drive as of late. I can’t be bothered without prompting. I feel like there’s all these things I could / should be doing in my life, but lately I have no interest in most of them. Then when I participate in the alternatives, I feel like a lazy asshole, which is hella dumb like I can’t make peace with my own decisions. I’ve gotten very good at convincing myself why I don’t “need” to do something. I can bullshit my way out of one set of plans and into another like a master, convincing myself why option B is much better than the option A I know deep down I really wanted to do instead. It’s not that I’m not a fan of spontaneity; call me at 9:30 pm and see if I want to do something – it’s possible I’ll say yes even if I’m already in my pj’s. I’m just having a problem lately making the decision without someone else’s prompting. I’m going through a period where I’m afraid of rejection or something, so I don’t bother asking.

I really and truly am my own worst enemy.

LAME!

And like that? It’s gone.

For the past two weeks or so (since my staycation ended) I have had little or no sex drive. This is, to put it lightly annoying me guh-reatly! I don’t know if it’s because I screwed up my pills or what, but faaaaack I just don’t feel like myself. (By that I mean, feeling like myself is when I’m thinking about sex all the damn time, grabbing as many orgasms as I can and throwing myself shamelessly at as many people as possible. Ok, that last part is an exaggeration, it just sounded fun …)

Maybe there hasn’t been enough flirting in my life lately. Flirting always keeps my sex drive high. I’m very influenced by the mental aspects of sex more so than the physical, so without mental stimulation my body tends to lose interest. Unless I’m really, really tired. When I’m physically tired I’m often ridiculously turned on – and malleable. Lately I’ve just been more awake, less turned on. Perhaps all this exercise I’m partaking in lately is giving me too much energy!

Whatever it is, it’s frustrating. I’ve tried time alone and while it’s been fun, it hasn’t really been as fulfilling as usual. I’m just really not interested.

So there you have it. Even me, someone who’s been called ‘sex crazed’ can step into a personal drought every now and then. I really really hope this drought gets wet fucking soon!

The Run-In

It’s a hazard of this open marriage lifestyle, but living in the seemingly big, but actually relatively small city of Toronto and having dated quite a number of boys and girls over the past few years I am bound to run into someone sooner or later.

I’ve had some random run-ins over the past few years. Luckily, I stay friends with most of the people I date, but there have been a few that I would really prefer to never see again and I’m sure they probably think the same of me. Here’s a few thoughts on these collisions for you.

The idea of running into S, after his weird “I can’t man up and stay friends with you” email sometimes spooks me. We live relatively close to one another (one of the appealing factors when we first met), so I’m sure it will happen someday.

How does that work? What do you say when you run into someone from your past and you can’t avoid each other? Do you avoid each other anyway, doing the duck and cover? Or do you do the awkard “Oh hi … um er … how are you? ” or the even more awkward “What the hell is the matter with you? Why did you act like such an ass?”

Last fall going to work on the streetcar with my husband, my ex from ‘07 – the sous chef – hopped on board. I froze up immediately hoping I looked fantastic, wanting him to both see and not see me. I don’t know if he saw us or not when he walked by, but it left me feeling anxious the entire rest of the ride. Now everyday when I pass that stop on the way to work I look outside to see who’s getting on. Part of me hopes he will and another part hopes he never does.

However, I know that really it’s bound to happen. Date someone and then break up while living in the same area? You’ll probably experience the uncomfortable run-in, even if you do your very best to avoid it. A weirdo guy I dated a couple of times saw me from the streetcar once and then added me on Facebook – because of course, since we’d been within 20 feet of each other again, it must have meant that we should be online buddies even though all other forms of communication had halted two years prior. Obviously.

Every now and then I run into my friend (that I slept with once) that works down the street from me, either at the gym or on my way back. I always end up looking like ass at that very moment, but there it is. You can’t avoid the run-in, folks!

Then there’s the fun examples, like Friday when I went to the same bar as Harvey. Finally after two and a half years of Steph being his snuffalupagus, they were in the same room. Harvey and I didn’t talk to each other – he was there with his wife and friends – but it was still fun having a few text messages back and forth to take an awkward situation and make it fun.

The lesson of the day here is that no matter how many changes you make to your routine, when you least expect it that one night stand, or ex-lover, or ex-lovers wife will one day be standing in front of you. You’ll have to choose to bury your face in your book or look ‘em in the eye and say hey.

Good luck to you!

Ooh! A piece of candy!

I’ve accepted over the years that there are some people who will see me, and others in open relationships as a sort of ‘novelty’. I’ve slept with enough men – and women – who have gotten off on the idea that I’m married that the novelty of that novelty has somewhat worn off for me.

Being polyamorous and then telling people about it means that I’m questioned. A lot. I don’t mind of course, this is why NYMP exists. It is always interesting to hear the things that people ask even when I’ve heard them all before. A lot of the time they are the same questions but the reactions to my answers are often different, and unpredictable, helping me probably learn as much about the person asking the questions as they learn from me when I answer. One thing that does generally remain standard throughout all reactions I get is the novelty of it all.

It’s different, it’s taboo, it’s novel. I’m married, yet I fuck other people. I also talk about it like it’s no big deal.

I know that non-monogamy is old hat to many of you, as it is to me as well. The days before we opened our hearts and legs to others seem so long ago, but I must remind myself it hasn’t even been three years yet. I remember the beginning days when I found it novel myself. That I could go off on a date, have sex if I wanted, share an intimate moment with someone besides Steph and come home and tell him about it; at least the parts he wanted to hear. It was exciting learning new things about myself, sexually and otherwise. Meeting new people and being exposed to so many different ideas was very exciting and excellent fodder for some fantastic sex.

Eventually for me though, the novelty wore off slightly. Being open isn’t a fad for me, it’s who I am. The slutty girl that would rather you fuck her like you owned her instead of wasting cash on red roses and milk chocolate is my true persona. I would rather sit all day, eating cheese and crackers and talking about sex and relationships in a ridiculously frank and honest manner than I would read gossip magazines. (No offense at all to my friends who love to do this!) This skin that I am in now is the most comfortable skin I’ve ever owned, feeling more like my true self than I ever have before. Finally I have realized who I am in so many areas of my life that have been constantly changing for years and years, searching for the next novel concept to fit into.

Luckily for me I have found people to love and fuck that want me for who I am, not just because I’m shiny and new. Not that I will ever complain about someone wanting me for the novelty of open relationships. It’s a fantasy that I’m used to, and definitely appreciate. I vow to never be one of those people that dismisses someone’s questions about non-monogamy because everything we know we once heard for the first time too. I like being a piece of candy, shiny and new to someone. It’s an easy ego boost that I don’t really have to do anything but be myself to receive.

But for me personally? There’s just something so comforting … about an old hat.

Five Reasons You Should Approach A Guy.

This is a great little post directed at all the ladies in the world about why it’s our responsibility to chat up the fellas as well. We shouldn’t just wait for them to come to us.

So ladies, grab your balls, man up, and read this article!

Five Reasons You Should Approach A Guy. Right Now: glamour.com