Days fly by and as the Steve Miller band once famously crooned time keeps on slipping slippin’ slippin’ into the future and I’ll be flying not quite like an eagle but indeed to the sea or rather from sea to shining sea as I jet from the Pacific to the Atlantic for an odd whirlwind of adventure.
My life is like chocolate flavoredÂ cottoncandy. In theory it SHOULD be awesome but in practice it is weird. And sticky.
I returned from Beyond Leather and for better or for worse, a great deal of the amazing time I had there was (temporarily?) Â eclipsed by a quicklimeslickpit of personalities and dramas and unknown histories that unfolded with all of the magnificence of anÂ Amorphophallus titanum and still draws my brain like s jigsaw carwreck.
What was my role in this? What could I have done differently? How can I avoid it in the future?
And even below that which YOU, dear reader, knows, thereÂ is more. And even as I look back, and I continued to gather information, I felt better and better about my comportment. PatternsÂ emerged and I was able to put myself into Â a right-sized place in the drama.Â
Which was a way smaller place than I initially thought.
PROFOUND THANKS to my friends Bailey, Andra, my new friend MelissaÂ (who took me to dinner and made me feel so awesome) to Sarah Sloane and to the other women online and offline who listened, and were angels and spiritual warriors when I was floundering. Sisterhood IS powerfulÂ
Even as I look ahead to the surety that I am indeed, a Hard-To-Place-Pound-Puppy, I reach some kind of peace with that.
For today, at least.
The other day I found myself watching the State of the Union / First 100 Days press conference. Â And, OK, so I am a weirdo, but the sight of a brilliant intelligent savvy capable man fielding questions and representing this country after the drought of the past 8 years made me…hot.
Like “OMG fuck me now. No, NOW.” hot.
But alas, we’ve no one to play with.Â
Or do we?
A few text messages later, pretty much to the effect of Â “Hi, Long time no see sweetie, how are you doing, sorry about [Insert Personal Family Thing Here] SO…um…wanna fuck?” I got back a rather surprised but positive response.Â
Which was awesome, since my last overture fell rather…flat.
Interestingly, I found myself in the bemusing position of having to throw up my hand when it came time to “talk things over”Â Â
I really didn’t want to talk.
I wanted to be slapped around and fucked.
I think most guys expect that women don’t know how to fuck without attachment, or that inevitably, the attachment will entrap them. But, the secret is this…at this point, the reality is, despite my loneliness, I don’t know that I have room for a partner. The past 6 months have been a whirlwind of travel, and the next 9 months are slampacked with rehearsals for 2 different shows. Someone who wanted in to my life right now would have to have a supertanker of superlatives backing them up.
And…well…I stacked the deck by propositioning a former lover.
I feel good about that. It is pretty great to have someone I care about with whom to romp.Â
And I also feel pretty good about handling the rather wonky and dicey rapprochement of a partner with ease and a deft hand.
Of course, blind estrus-crazed weasel lust helped glaze over the awkwardness.
And, now…I’m off!
Hey, see ya on the East Coast, my friends.
Are you going to Sex 2.0? Â I will be there!
And stay tuned. I am in the process of negotiating my very first anal fisting.Â