Saturday, June 16, 2012

Sexy Back: Do Not Know How

WARNING: This post may or may not contain TMI (too much information), depending on what you consider TMI. Me? I can never get enough. But you know me. I am weird. So proceed at your own risk.


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?
Me: No.
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.
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.

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Sharing on the Internet

I recently posted my first pole dance video to my regular youtube channel (see below). I only have one channel mostly because I am too lazy to log in and out of accounts all of the time, plus now you sign in with your gmail account and I only have one of those anyway, so yea. I don't really know how all this mess works. All these stupid mergers. They break my brain.

 I was putting together the video for my tumblr in which I account every little detail of my pole progress. I do this for myself mostly, because I have found recording everything and watching my progress is one of my biggest exercise motivators, but I also enjoy watching and sharing with the pole community on tumblr as well. As I was doing this I thought, why don't I make this kind of fancy and put it on youtube? Then I thought about how my youtube channel is already so random. I have several really old, shitty animation tests, some newer shitty animation tests, a song by Brasstronaut (ironically my highest viewed video), and a handful of my disappointingly unpopular poetry vlog videos (seriously, I have to harass my Facebook friends into watching them). Besides, I have been trying to keep my pole life separate from the rest of my life. I want to scream every time someone mentions by fall back career to being an artist and go on a rant about pole dancing's undeserved bad rep. Well ok, pole dancing has deserved a bad rep. But it also deserves a good one too, for so many reasons, but we won't go into that right now.

Of course, I caved in to posting it to youtube, and also my Facebook, because I couldn't stand the idea of having to faction myself off into personalities. It always sounds so appealing, having some sort of mysterious second life. It is like being a superhero! Or Hannah Montana!! ...Or something like that. But no matter how hard I try to be mysterious and secretive on the internet, I just can't. For some reason, I feel the burning desire to share just about everything about myself on the web.

This is ironic, because I am well known for being an unreadable wall of bitch-face in real life, and also because most people are the complete opposite side of the fence as me. To a lot of people, revealing personal information on the internet feels incredibly risky and rather foolish, whereas talking about it in person is no biggie. I have been questioned before about how I can possibly share so much information about myself in this very blog, particularly the information about my sex life (or lack thereof) and other such things. My answer to this is actually somewhat complicated, so let me explain my opinion on sharing on the internet.

First of all, the biggest reason why I don't worry about what I say is because my blog does not get a lot of traffic. In the grand scheme of things, I am a blip in the internet world. Not even. I am more like a grain of sand on the beach of the universe. I may have a Klout score of 51, which is higher than the average, but I still only get on average 40 views per blog post (then again, Klout is also really dumb). Most of these people coming to this blog already know me in real life, enough so that they actually like me and therefore will probably automatically like whatever I have to write about. They also already know many of these things about me, and if they didn't, I wouldn't be afraid to tell them. So it doesn't even really count. The real fact of the matter is no one gives a shit. I have 400 Facebook friends, but only 10% are evidently actually paying attention to anything I post. And I post nearly every day. I am a freaking internet attention whore! This is the thing about the internet. No one is reading your every post, tracking you down, stalking you, whatever. Except maybe your mother. Or Grandmother. And that creepy guy from high school. But other than that, no one cares about you. Everyone on the internet only really cares about themselves. That is how social networking works. Unless you somehow manage to go viral or be someone important, whatever you post on the internet is just going to end up in internet oblivion. People are too busy paying attention to themselves. Remember those surveys we all used to fill out in our notes or  on myspace? Guess what? No one ever read yours, unless they copied and pasted it as a template to delete your answers and write in their own. So if you are ever worried about writing something personal, just remember: 90% of your dearest friends will completely ignore it, 9% will probably think you are obnoxious and pretend like they didn't read it, and maybe 1% might actually care. Half of those people might even "like" whatever you said.

Besides all that, I have also built up quite an immunity to this sort of anxiety, just like my immunity to naked people (or anything to do with sex really). Most of the time, whether it be writing about my vagina or looking at someone else's, I don't even think twice. I have been doing this internet thing for awhile now guys, it's cool. I started talking to strangers when I was 12 (and they weren't even offering me candy!) I have lurked, participated in, and trolled many a forum, from neopets to swanky art sites. I have played and been addicted to many a MMO. I have found in all this time that yes, there are weirdos out there, but just like real life, most people are generally pretty nice and fairly normal. As far as normal can go with people who live most of their lives on the internet anyway. In any case, I have actually made quite a few friends that I have never met before. And some of them I have met, after knowing them for some time over the internet. And it wasn't even that awkward. Only a little bit.

So I guess you could say that typing things on a computer to no one in particular has become so routine for me that it has become meaningless. I don't mind really. It is my chance to actually say stuff, because I am so bad at it in real life anyway. Hey, if I am lucky, maybe someone might actually pay attention. Or care. Or something nice like that.

That being said, that doesn't mean that I don't get attention from everyone's favorite thing: creepy internet guys. Why, just after posting that super slutty pole dancing video of mine I got several messages and comments from random dudes telling me how hot I looked and telling me "whatsup." If only I had a better quality camera, they might have been able to comment on my jiggling belly or the cellulite on he back of my legs as well. That would have been good to throw in there. But as well as they know their way into my heart and pants, I resisted and ignored these comments. However, this wasn't the first time I have gotten attention for posting things about myself that are revealing in one way or another. I have gotten countless Facebook messages and had some really amazing awkward conversations. I think it must be an unspoken rule among guys that if you are afraid of talking to a girl in a normal way and maybe asking her to hang out in real life, you should first try getting intoxicated in some way and/or ask her to get naked on Skype. Or just invite her to watch you get naked on Skype. Because really ladies, what is more exciting than watching a guy jack off? We haven't seen enough of that on chat roulette, right? That is definitely gonna capture our hearts.

I know for a lot of people that sort of situation might be mortifying. Who knows though? Some might actually jump on board with it. I mean, someone out there must be giving positive reinforcement for this sort of behavior. Either that or clearly men are just unanimously dumb. You can decide for yourself, I suppose. Personally, I feel the most entertaining thing you can do is turn them down, yet still egg them on just enough to see how long it goes on for. I guess that kind of makes me a tease or a bitch or what have you. But in my head I rationalize it that they aren't really being very respectful to me, so I can play their game with them if I want. That is totally fair, right? I guess it is my way of seeing how much they really want me. Some guys get bored after a short conversation. Some guys are amazingly persistent however, and even my dry, snobby sarcasm doesn't turn them off... Did I say sarcasm? I meant superior wit. But yes, some of my creepy internet guys have actually turned into friends. In a weird I'm-going-to-keep-denying-you-sex-friends kind of way. I appreciate these friendships. They make me feel powerfu--Er, I mean, liked--I mean... I like having friends?

However, even though all the "what is your favorite position?"s and "tell me how you like it"s are super fun to deal with, I think the most awkward conversations happened when a guy innocently asked me if I thought he was cute. I did not. It's easy to brush off a dude who is being a total asshole and not showing you very much respect, but a guy who is showing genuine loneliness is the worst of them all. Then you actually feel like a jerk. That's never fun. I think I prefer the assholes. You can take out all your pent up aggression and frustration at being ignored by men all the time on them. The irony is fantastic!

So there isn't really anything to be afraid of out there, in my opinion. Sure, take the regular precautions of course. Don't tell strangers you just met in a chatroom (do people still use those? I'm not sure) where you live and remember: Craigslist personal ads are always best kept as a spectator sport. Other than that, I have found that it doesn't really matter what you say on the internet. You are still who you are, and if people don't like it, they can unfriend you, or stop following you, or whatever. They just have to deal with it, and it isn't you problem. The internet is my chance to be upfront and honest about anything I feel like and I am not going to lose something so valuable, because god forbid I ever become good at real life conversation. I will just stick to my aluminum and plastic fortress. It's happy here.