There has been a disruption.
I have not been totally honest with you, dearest blog readers. My self-inflicted title of "sexless and cynical" was destroyed. For a day. Yes that's right. I did it.
I did something heartfelt and genuine.
Just kidding, I would never do such a crazy thing.
No, actually, to be honest, I had sex.
Before you get your panties in a bunch, don't worry, I am already back to being sexless. Let's just consider this a little hiccup of my sexless existence. Hey, what can I say? Shit happens. But probably not again for a good long while, considering how all I do these days is work and pole dance. And before you say anything, yes, they are two separate things. Anyway, because I have no life and therefore no chances at meeting anyone at all, this blog can keep on going strong. Can I get another 14+ more months?? Hell yea!
Let me explain. I'll be brief, because even though as I have stated that I am very comfortable with sharing on the internet, this is still probably a subject best kept discrete. For the sake of any of my family reading. Also because this topic is totally in the realm of girlfriend talk, and I don't want to stain the purity of any man out there that may be reading. It's ok men, you can continue on without worrying you might start menstruating.
Alright, now that that has been cleared up, let's begin.
I have failed at men again. Big surprise. Chalk up another one night stand on my bed post. The ratio of one night stands to actual relationships I have had of any kind is starting to concern me. You may be able to start considering me a slut, unless you actually know me. Then you probably know better than that. I am just stupid.
Remember how I posted about all those internet creepers that talk to me on Facebook all the time? Not too long after I started this blog I got extra attention from several, including one in particular--an acquaintance that I had barely met previously almost two years ago and not spoken to since-- who stated that my openness about sex on the blog was what drew him to me ...Um, right. I had my doubts about how carefully he actually read this blog, but I went with it.* The level of arrogance I was experiencing from this interaction was the kind I had only heard about but never believed I would truly encounter. ...Rumors...whispers on the wind...legends handed down from woman to woman...all of the kind of man who was so secure in his sexual ego that he would ask you about pretty much any sexual subject and then respond to your indignation in the classic "explana-brag" fashion vaguely about his own sexual experiences... It was like an episode of Sex and the City. It was so thrilling. I couldn't help but be intrigued. Also don't forget about the attention. I was getting lots. I really can never get enough of that stuff.
So I played around. Hey, it was harmless fun, being many miles away and having the complete confidence to deny any bullshit Skype sex. Seriously guys, I cannot stress enough how stupid I think Skype sex is. This is why I do not feel bad about playing with my food. I don't think their desires are legitimate enough to really warrant any respect from me. Men, go find some porn to entertain yourself. That is what that kind of stuff is for. We women can take care of ourselves on our own goddamn time without having to pose for a low-quality webcam and arch our necks to see your highly creative response of "oh yea baby" as pixels on a screen. It's not fun and it's not sexy. Unless you are our boyfriend and put up with our bullshit and hold our hands and you know, actually talk to us about normal stuff, you are not worth it because you really haven't done anything to deserve it. End of story. Ok, I'll be getting off my soap box now.
During these conversations, I tried to be straightforward about my lack of appreciation for being treated like nothing more than a potential romp. I mean, I appreciate a well executed facade of general friendliness or really just anything as a forerunner to "let's fuck," you know? I like it when people can at least pretend they actually want to know me and not just my genitals. I feel as if I can make better conversation than my genitals, but I guess that depends on your personal preference. Let's be real though, it is a little insulting when someone tries to only get with you just to get with you. I enjoy sex as much as the next person, but I think I have a lot more to offer. I am a social clique drifter for goodness sakes! I can make fairly decent conversation about anything from children's cartoons to philosophy to stories about inhaling last night's liquor and spewing it back out the morning after on a street corner like total white trash. I am pretty versatile, just try me! Really, it's like if you go to a 5 star restaurant and all you order is a glass of water and maybe a house salad that you will idly pick at for an hour or so before leaving a mediocre tip and going home. I suppose if you are on a diet of boring and bland that is just fine, but personally I would go for something with a little more spice, if you know what I mean. The water and salad already comes with the meal. Order the best thing on the menu and make the most of it, not just the bare minimum! It gives the cook pleasure to cook for you, so order something nice, dammit! That being a metaphor, of course. I hate actual cooking and if any man asked me to make him a sandwich, I would bitch slap him silly.
I could continue on with this analogy, but I think you get the idea. It wasn't like I was asking him to put a ring on it, just a little something besides just sex talk. It was rather futile though, as that did not really seem to have much of an affect. And by some amazing feat my dry sarcasm and disrespect did not entirely ward him off, so this sort of went on for awhile. A lot of "lets talk about sex!" and me asking "why?" until my head wanted to explode. Actually, I had an experience just recently with a camper at my work that I think illustrates how I felt about this experience in a slightly more appropriate way. The following conversation I had just yesterday afternoon, word for word, I kid you not:
Camper: Hey, have you ever been in a tornado?
Me: No. You asked me that last week.
Camper: What about a cyclone?
Camper: Oh. Have you ever been in a tornado?
Me: No. You just asked me that.
Camper: Oh. But have you ever been in a tornado?
Me: No. Why do you keep asking me that?
Camper: I just want to know if you have ever been in a tornado.
Me: Well I haven't.
Camper: You haven't been in a tornado?
Me: No, I haven't been in a tornado.
Camper: You have? What was it like?
Me: What? I just said I haven't been in a tornado.
Camper: Oh, I thought you said you have. ...Have you ever been in a tornado?
Me: (about to bash head into wall) Oh look at that, I need to go talk to some of my campers... (walks away)
Just imagine that but with much dirtier subject matter. I would get the same questions about my favorite position or what behavior I preferred in bed over and over again. I guess the difference between boys and men is that boys like tornadoes and men like blow jobs. But we all know one thing is never going to change: the male species can't pay attention to save their lives. I have yet to figure out whether it is because they really can't or if it is just because they don't want to. Further research is required.
Despite all of this obnoxiousness, the potential of actually having sex with this person always loomed in the back of my head. I mean, it was being offered after all. I couldn't help but contemplate it. As time went on, we eventually wound up in the same town at the same time. It was as I was listening to radio ad for a match-making service on the way home from work one day that I decided to throw in the towel and see what would happen if I actually caved in to his ridiculous come-ons. The ad blaring on the radio said something along the lines of "The perfect person for you is out there somewhere, jus waiting for you to find them!" I heard this, thought about it, and then thought "No. That is bullshit. Maybe whoever I end up with--if I ever end up with anyone--is out there, sure, but I'd bet the big toe of my left food they have another 5-10 years of growing up to do before they are ready to be with me, and vice versa. I don't want a serious or life changing relationship right now. But that doesn't mean I am going to sit around idly while I wait for all that time to pass. I am going to have my goddamn sex cake and eat it too!"
Ok, maybe those weren't my EXACT thoughts, but close enough. The point is I made it happen. It did not blow my mind, by any means. But I learned something very valuable from my "no strings attached" experience that lasted all of one week or so: my blog-induced cynicism has consumed me. I no longer know how "sexy" works. It did not take long--one hook up and a week or so of what I am sure was deep reflection and contemplation on his part, to be exact-- to be rejected with no explanation. That is always fun. There is nothing like being dumped by a one night stand. In some ways I have already kind of been there before. It makes you feel super confident about yourself, let me tell you that. Honestly, my theory is that is was somewhere between the "sexting" that went a little something like:
Him: So are you horny right now?
Me: Well, mostly bored. But sure, sex sounds like an appealing occupation of my time at the moment.or
Him: I want to be inside you.
Me: That's nice.and during the actual deed where I described his penis as a "novelty" to me and then pointed out my lopsided vagina** that he realized that being open about the idea of sex does not exactly make me a super sexy "vixen" or whatever he was expecting. I am not 100% sure about this theory though. Those texts I sent were pretty dirty, don't you think? I tried really hard to be as slutty as possible when I sent them.
I swear I used to be better at this sort of thing. I think so, anyway. My memory is hazy. I have vague memories of actually wanting to please whoever was on the receiving end, rather than just spending all of my time thinking of the snarkiest thing to say. So surely that must be the reason I got left behind. Or perhaps he found someone else. Or he caught wind of the crazy train. Or all of the above. Who knows? Who cares? Is it really going to change me if I know?
But I guess that makes it official. In an ironic twist of circumstance, in writing the blog about my lack of a sex life I have unconsciously obstructed myself from potentially actually having one. That is just awesome. I lost my sexy. I need to get it back, Justin Timberlake style. But I do not know how. Or if I even really want to, because that would take a lot of effort and who knows what I would really get out of it anyway? But one thing is for sure. I will clearly be very lonely until I find some weird person who actually appreciates my strange, sarcastic behavior... This could be a very rough, long road ahead of me. Oh dear.
I guess the REAL real lesson here though is to only sleep with people you actually like? That might be a good idea? Maybe? Getting blown off after finally giving it up is so cliche, I should have seen it coming, considering the cliche of it all is what gained my interest in the first place anyway. So I am not too upset, although it is tiring to think "another one bites the dust," to myself in my head, because I am not vocally skilled enough to sing Queen songs out loud. I would stain the name of all things just and right in music. So I just have to think that to myself and wonder yet again what it was about me that was not good enough. I like my current theory best though, because it implies that I am just too awesome for most of the men in the world and they aren't ready to handle it. Yes, I like running off that theory. It's definitely a keeper. The unfortunate part is that it means it is going to take one hell of a man to step up to the challenge that is my personality. It's a good thing I have a fair level of patience.
So anyway, off I go again, back into the world of sexlessness, ready for another long haul, this time with just another new pinch of experience to tuck into my backpack of wisdom that I carry with me along the way.
...Is it just me, or is wisdom freaking heavy?
*He also asked me if my blog was meant to be funny. That probably should have indicated something to me at the time, but I ignored it.
**I am officially going to write a book about growing up and cynical womanhood titled My Vagina is Lopsided. I hope my future publishers are ok with this. Don't steal it, ok? It's such an appealing title, it'll definitely hit the bestseller list in no time. I am sure it'll be all the rage with the hardcore Christian fundamentalists and the Mormons.