REALLY, Amanda Bynes?!

I’ve spoken before about how Amanda Bynes’ tweets make me kind of sad and they seem to be those of someone that just wants desperately to find The One and won’t be happy until she does. It seems that she’s only happy when she’s in love.

This one really stuck out to me:

Like, really? Immediately? What’s the rush? I mean, if you want to get married, great, but what’s so bad about being with someone, being in love with them, and taking your time with the getting married part? I don’t see why that piece of paper needs to be the focus. You don’t need a piece of paper to make your relationship meaningful and legitimate.

Well, then came this one:

Eesh. She’s 24, you guys. TWENTY-FOUR. Is being unmarried at 24 really that terrible? It’s not the 1950′s anymore. People don’t expect 24-year-olds to be married.

I guess these tweets just make me sad. It’s sad that she seems to put that much pressure on trying to get married. Marriage is great, if that’s what you want, but I feel like being so desperate for it is a really unhealthy thing. It shouldn’t be the end all and be all of how you define whether or not you’re successful in life.

Posted in Caterwauling About The Patriarchy, Culture Goes Pop | 7 Comments


I don’t remember how the conversation started, but The Scientist said something that prompted my head to snap up and say, “I didn’t know you were kinky.” Because our sex had been far from kinky at this point, and I was planning on asking him to be rougher with me the next time we were together. Don’t get me wrong, the sex was great. But we all know that I like it rough.

He said, “Yeah, but I didn’t think that was really your thing.”


I laughed and said, “Are you kidding? I’m, like, really really really reallyreallyreally submissive. In fact, my OkCupid profile lists ‘rough sex’ as one of the things I can’t live without.”

“Wow. I horribly misinterpreted a comment that you made on our first date, then.”


Posted in BDSM, Sex Miscellany, Submission | Tagged | 2 Comments

Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon: OkCupid Version

The Players: myself, Rose, The Scientist, The Scientist’s Girlfriend

The Background: I used to work with Rose at the toy store. I’ve gone on several dates with The Scientist. The Scientist is poly and has a primary partner, his Girlfriend. All four of us are on OkCupid.

The Sitch: After my first date with The Scientist, Rose asked about him, wondering if maybe she’d gone on a date with him, too, since OkCupid tends to be incestuous like that. I described him and she said, “Oh my god, is his user name [Username]?” It was. She hadn’t gone out with him, but several months ago he had messaged both Rose and her roommate (not knowing they were roommates) to look for someone to play with him and Girlfriend. She’d found him a little sketch. I thought this was hilarious.

I texted him and called him out on it. He knew exactly what I was talking about and explained what had happened and told me to tell Rose that he was sorry for coming across sketchy. The Scientist wants me to meet Girlfriend, as they both meet people that the other person sees regularly. I am a little wary of this, strictly because the last time I dated someone with a girlfriend and met her I was pressured into a threesome that I wasn’t prepared for or expecting. The Scientist said that I could bring a friend with me so that I could be sure that this really was a no pressure situation, just friends meeting for drinks.

What the fuck friend could I bring with me that would be cool with meeting the guy I’m fucking and his girlfriend and not be awkward? Rose! So as I’m texting Rose to see if she wants to come, I get a text from The Scientist. “You’re never going to believe this. Remember your friend that thought I was sketchy? Girlfriend just came in the room and said, ‘Look at this girl on OkCupid. I just sent her a message. Isn’t she cute?’ It was your friend!”

And I just about died laughing because I texted back, “Um, I’m actually bringing that friend with me tomorrow night! So you’ll BOTH get to meet her after all!”

What the fuck are the chances that not only did The Scientist message both of us, not only are we friends, not only is she the girl I’m bringing with me to meet them, but Girlfriend messaged her THE DAY BEFORE we meet without knowing any of this.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

In case you don’t know what Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon is.

Posted in Awesomeness, Make Me A Match | Tagged | 5 Comments

Something. Anything. Nothing.

I brush my teeth too hard, intentionally drawing blood. I gag myself while brushing my tongue.

Anything to feel something. Something to feel anything.

The water in the shower is way too hot. It scalds me, turning my skin bright red. I don’t turn it down.

Anything to feel something. Something to feel anything.

I masturbate too many times. Each successive orgasm hurts worse than the last. It’s too much. I’m in tears.

Anything to feel something. Something to feel anything.

It’s cold and raining outside. I go out without a jacket or an umbrella. I’m wet, shaking, pathetic.

Anything to feel something. Something to feel anything.

I bring home a boy from the bar. I can’t remember his name. “Hit me. I said hit me. Harder. Again.”

Anything to feel something. Something to feel anything.

A bottle of wine. A bottle of vodka. Empty.

Sometimes it’s best to just feel nothing.

Posted in BDSM, Depression, Self Medication, Soul Searching | 4 Comments

Stay Classy, NY Post

From a piece entitled, “Vivien ‘Lay,’ scarlet woman:*”

Two-time Oscar winner Viven Leigh, the iconic Scarlett O’Hara in “Gone With The Wind,” was a hot mess off-screen — a slutty bisexual who battled mental illness for most of her adult life, an explosive new biography claims.

So what have we learned today, class? Bisexuality is slutty. Mental illness is a terrible, horrible thing that may cause sluttiness or bisexuality, so that should always be thrown into “explosive” stories. And all of these things mean that you’re a “hot mess.”

Well, I guess that means that I’m a hot mess, too. And I couldn’t be prouder to be a bisexual, mentally ill slut. Because it’s awesome.

*See what they did there? Vivien “Lay?” Get it? BECAUSE SHE WAS A HARLOT.

Posted in Caterwauling About The Patriarchy, Culture Goes Pop, SGO, Sexuality | 23 Comments


As I’m sure you’ve noticed (and I know you have, based on the lack of people having anything to say regarding anything I post lately), my blogging motivation is MIA. I’m not quite sure where it went, but no matter how hard I search for it, I can’t seem to locate it. I come across things that I know that I have coherent thoughts about, yet can’t seem to find those thoughts when the time comes to attempt to write something about them. I see ads like this and can do nothing more but post them with one line of analysis beneath them. I see things like this and know that I should address it, especially regarding the discussion that took place in the comments of this post, yet I don’t even know where to begin.

And so I post short, benign excerpts from my dating life or my weekends. And as anyone that’s a regular reader of my blog knows, that’s not what I want this blog to be about. Mindless posts are fine and good every now and then, but I strive to produce writing with substance, and right now that substance eludes me. I’m not one of those people that can force myself to write and the thoughts slowly flow. I’m someone that immediately has a million thoughts about something and can’t get them from my head to the screen fast enough. I’m someone for whom motivation tends to come in spurts; there are times when I’m cranking out 5 posts a day, and there are times like now, when I can’t even manage one decent post per week.

I guess this post is an apology of sorts. Not that I owe anyone an apology about anything. Maybe this is more an apology to myself for failing to maintain the kind of blog that I strive to maintain. Here’s to hoping that the block clears and the fog lifts sometime soon. Until then, posting may be light and/or fluffy.

God, I hate fluff.

Posted in Uncategorized | 8 Comments


You know it was a killer weekend when it involved the following:

  • Waking up surrounded by a frisbee, a dozen cupcakes, and a head of cabbage has gone missing.
  • Accidentally meeting Pandora Boxx in a club.
  • Seeing friends that you haven’t seen in years while simultaneously making lots of awesome new ones.
  • Possibly not speaking to a heterosexual person the entire weekend.
  • Watching grown people get “Iced.”
  • Failing to make it back to your apartment 3 nights in a row, and not once was it because you were getting laid.
  • Walking back to the train at 1:30 PM on Sunday after a weekend of debauchery and having your friend turn to you and say, “Look at your life, look at your choices.” To which I replied, “Ditto, darling.”

I mean, Sassy Gay Friend does know best.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, my liver will be recovering, and hopefully my blogging inspiration will return somewhere along the way.

Posted in Awesomeness, Self Medication | 4 Comments

Today in Gender Roles

From the new Diane von Furstenberg campain:

Because you’re not a woman if you’re not wearing a dress. We all know that pants and “masculine” clothing squash all feelings of being female that we possess.

Because somehow you can’t be powerful? Successful? Admired? Strong? if you don’t have a male body. A feminine body is desirable as long as your personality and lifestyle take on those much-more-desirable “masculine” traits.

Feel like a woman, just don’t act like a woman.

*Any surprise that this is shot by Terry Richardson?

Posted in Caterwauling About The Patriarchy | 9 Comments

Indecisive Girl is Indecisive

I am the most indecisive person ever. It’s terrible. One of the things I liked best about my relationship with Profligacy is that I didn’t have to make decisions. He picked where we went, what I ordered, and sometimes what I wore. Life was much easier then. My everyday life consists of me failing to make decisions about mundane things and ending up with no outcome at all. I don’t have difficulty making big, important decisions. It’s the little ones that I have trouble with.

For instance, I never know what I want to eat. I’ve walked past 17 restaurants and eaten in none, because I don’t know which one to choose. I used to drive around for upwards of 45 minutes, be unable to decide where I wanted to eat, and then drive home, having eaten nothing. If I can decide where I want to eat but the menu is very expansive, I can’t decide what to order. I will stare at the menu forever, and not be able to decide what I want. I cannot rent a movie. Too many options. I usually walk out empty handed. I will not decide what we’re going to do tonight. My response is usually, “You pick, I don’t care.”

However… that “I don’t care” is a tricky one. Because if I *don’t* want to do something that you suggest, I will tell you. I could turn down 5 suggestions, yet still be unable to come up with one of my own. I don’t know what I want, but I know I don’t want that. And it’s frustrating. I’ll stomp my feet and pout and whine, “I just don’t know!” Real mature, I know, but I’m difficult like that. I have to date decisive people that are good at making plans. Otherwise, I’d never leave the house.

Posted in Soul Searching | 12 Comments

Bedroom Talk

Me: “You’d be surprised how many guys would be totally fine forgoing condoms if I didn’t insist on them.”

The Scientist: “Not me. I’m diligent about condom use.”

Me: “I mean, obviously. You wouldn’t want my various venereal diseases infecting you.”

The Scientist: “I know. I don’t know where you’ve been!”

Me: “Everywhere.”

The Scientist: “ALL OVER.”

Me: “I am a huge whore.”

The Scientist: “That’s why I like you.”

These are the conversations we have after sex. Hot, no?

Posted in Sex Miscellany | Tagged | 1 Comment
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