That Woman

I never thought I would be that woman. The woman who feigns headaches, who wears sweatpants to bed rather than sexy panties and camisoles.

I always judged her, I thought, "What an ice queen! How does she keep a man?"

See, I have always worn my sexuality like a badge of honor, letting it define me to an extent. It has not been that way for a long time now.

I wonder when it started. Sadly, it has been so long it has become hard for me to remember the times when I longed to be touched, felt the fire burning. Perhaps a year and a half, two?

I don't know if it is kind or cruel how I carry on, keeping him just satisfied enough so that I don't have to talk about it. It is not that I am a coward, never that, it is worse; I a completely uninterested in that conversation. I feel that it would be a waste of my time and emotion to "talk about it".

There are times when I throb and feel that ferocious hunger again, little reminders that the sexual lion still roars inside of me.

I have only dared admit this to my my best friend, my soul twin, and what do you know? She feels the same way. How comforting to have someone else who is confused by the new image in the mirror!

I heard a sex therapist on the radio a while back who said that faking an orgasm was like denying your truest self. She said that our sexuality is the core of our being, that it was a betrayal of ourselves to be untrue to it.

Well, I suppose I agree to a point except that I have spoken to that side of myself, and she knows the deal. It is emotional triage. My mind is full, I have a hurricane of thoughts and feelings, possibilities, sorrows, joys, I am poised for the myriad of changes and challenges I am entering. I really just don't have room for that conversation. I can't afford the shit storm of the long goodbye. That could be what this is, I don't know, but I also don't want to know right now. This is the conversation I am really avoiding, this is the conversation I can't even have with her.

This year is starting out pregnant with possibilities. It is going to be a big year and I find myself bracing for the explosion. I am going to be true to myself, not in the watered down sense Dr. Sex indicated. I am going to continuing living the best way I have figured out to live so far: with passion, with patience for myself and with faith in life itself to make all things crystal clear in its own good time.

No, I never thought I would be "that woman", but perhaps I'm not. Perhaps knowing that she is a stranger borrowing my body, knowing that she is just a guide, leading me to explore a new part of myself, maybe that makes me decidedly different from her.

Cooking and Cunnilingus

I realized the other night, after a positively spot on oral performance on the heels of a divine meal, creating a great meal and a great romp between the sheets are more similar than not. As I see it there are only a few reasons to do either: to satisfy someone you care about or to show-off. I know, I know; what about pleasing yourself? Well, hopefully you are not doing it unless you enjoy it, and if you are, then that is an entirely different subject. Truth is, most of us enjoy sex and enjoy a good meal, but if you are the one crafting and not merely feasting, then there is addition motive, thus the caring vs. showing-off scenario.

When creating a memorable dish, you need to layer flavors and textures to create interest. Take the seemingly boring hamburger. A succulent intriguingly seasoned burger topped with the finest condiments can blow your mind. Likewise, oral sex can be a “slurp and burp” (that was the grossest saying I could think of!) or it can be practically a religious experience. It can and must be catered to your partner’s particular taste.

Catering to people is something I am alarmingly good at, too good sometimes in fact. The truth is I need a muse. When I am alone I tend to cook basic healthy staples. The magic and variety usually goes out the window. I like the challenge of creating a meal with someone else’s particular likes and dislikes in mind. I prefer vegetables to meat and there is almost nothing I won’t eat, so my tastes rarely narrow anything down! Don’t get me wrong, I love food, love it, but I have a hard time bringing myself to create a masterpiece when it is only me I am cooking for. I also am one of those women who actually enjoy giving head. I guess there is something about doing something you are good at, exactly the way someone else likes it, that gives me a sense of satisfaction.

On the subject of head: I name my moves. Yes, I am a silly girl. But honestly when I am working my magic it helps to visualize. There are typical ones- corkscrew ice-cream cone and more exotic ones- the head nibble waterfall. Hey, the names could potentially help your silly man remember his favs and coach you on what he wants on an evening when you really just want to “get-in and get-out”. This theory hasn’t worked so well for me so far because the last thing he is doing is paying attention to my asinine names post-coital. They still please me and allow me to bask in the glow of my awesomeness a bit longer. Yes, I am a show-off, but I would also like to think that I am a caring, giving person; perhaps a hybrid of the two aforementioned categories of cooks and cocksuckers.

I forgot where I was going with this except that I gain the same carnal pleasure from cooking a great dish and giving a wicked blow-job. I have the same visceral passion for food and sex. These happen to be the two subjects I could go on and on about all day. I suppose that in these two arenas you must have passion and the only rule of thumb is to make it enjoyable. It is expression. Food and sex are art that must be shared, must be consumed to be appreciated. I am tired of people criminalizing these joys.

I think that the most natural pleasures in like are sex and food, and the most unnatural is money. Hell, we can’t live without food and we are created to come together with each other. Money is a means to an end, but it seems like it is the only acceptable obsession anymore. Hell, money in and of itself is boring. Yes, food can make you fat. Yes, sex can give you a disease. But to truly appreciate either you must respect it. If you respect food you will enjoy it without shoveling garbage in your mouth. If you respect sex you will be safe and respectful of your partner(s). Wars are not started over cuisine or cunnilingus. Perhaps if we embraced these pleasures more fully and openly there would be less repressed anger exploding around us. I digress, I did not start out to get all preachy, I just wanted to share my love for the “organic pleasures” of life and the connection I see between the two. Think about the art of it all next time you are whipping up a meal or taking your lover between your lips. Bon appétit!

The Experiment

August 2, 2009

I have been moving around my entire adult life. In the military and after, I have been searching for home. I have ended up, like so many before me, in New York City. I am approaching my one year mark and I still feel a bit like I am outside looking-in. being in a relationship can do this as well, you are comfortable in each other’s company and therefore do not venture out as much as you might if left to your own devices.

My boyfriend of the last three years is in Las Vegas, working on a television show for the next 5 weeks. After he comes home and starts making more money he is planning on moving out of our home and getting his own place. There is nothing wrong with our relationship, per se, but he feels the need to get out on his own. He has felt this way for awhile, but I am now amenable to this idea. You see, we don’t fight anymore. We get along great and truly love each other, but with the fights went some of our passion. There is nothing wrong, but there is something not right as well. He, being a man, wants it all: his own place and a devoted woman. This may very well work, but it also may not. His 5 week absence will serve as a good preview of what my life will be like having someone without the daily comforts of our shared routine. This brings me to my experiment.

Well, I am about to embark on an experiment to see if I can change my life and find out what I truly want in the process. You see, when you are in a relationship you tend to start thinking in terms of what he wants or what we want. You should, but in the process, I have forgotten some of the things I want. I am 25, a military veteran, a college graduate and an utterly lost executive assistant, I need to find out what it is I am still longing for. I don’t know if I should go to Law School to make the big bucks, go for a Journalism MA so I can write and get paid for it, find a job where I can meet interesting people and travel the world (does that exist?), basically what I should do to get from the life I am living now to the life I want. I am also lonely.

I have set several weekly goals for myself: one new recipe, 5-6 workouts, one dinner party, one new piece of writing, one NYC experience and one social connection per week. These may seem small and silly, but they all have purposes centered around my passions, and what better roadmap for life can one have but their passions? One new recipe: I love cooking, but typically only create grand meals if there is someone else enjoying them. 5-6 workouts: I am in New York and why not focus on getting thin and sexy while my time is my own (I also have gained a ghastly 8 pounds and need to shave them off)? One dinner party: this is a combination of my love of cooking and the fact that I promised some friends from work I would put it together, I am likely to flake-out on these types of ideas and that needs to change! One new piece of writing: If I want to be a writer, I need to write. One NYC experience: it is high time I start taking advantage of the magically city I give most of my paycheck to live in, also a great way to meet people. One social connection: I love people, but am terrible at making new friends, if I am to have the life I want, I must meet and foster new relationships. So, there it is. Can I craft a life full of friends, adventure, passion and excitement on the salary of an executive assistant in only 5 weeks, oh, and figure out what to do with my life? I am about to find out.

Week 1:

Game Plan- Check
Writing- Check