Laziness

I need to rant about being single...and sex.  So if you don't want to hear about sex then this is your warning to stop reading.   

I know its annoying but it's needed every once and awhile for cathartic release.  I am not happy with my current state of singledom but i find myself unwilling and unable to put up with crapola from men.  I don't mean the i'm a guy and i love sports and cars and fighting and i dont talk about my feelings crapola.  What I'm talking about is the laziness that comes with intimacy and men.  For example (like i wasn't going to have an example to point out the idiocy of the men in my life) i am friends/friends with benefits with a couple men.  I seem to cull male friends from my ex lovers and typically we can transition nicely to sexual relationship to non sexual relationship. The hazard being that its easy to fall back into bed when one or both parties are feeling lonely. Which i am right now.   But that issue aside (i will come back to that later) it is frustrating dealing with the ego that comes with men in the bedroom.  I cannot count how many times i have heard 'you just need to be with a man who knows what he's doing' or 'oh baby, i go all night long' or my favorite 'I'm not like other men'.  WTF?  All of these men lied.  They lied directly to my face and did it without any kind of hesitation.  

Now i guess i should explain that i am not an easy O.  (Easy O meaning easy orgasm, hard O hard to get to orgasm...you get the idea) I am in that frustrating percentage of women that do not, or have not as of yet, have orgasms during sex(orgasms.  plural.  I'd settle for just one at this point).  I have had an orgasm before but never during intercourse. Stimulation of some variety or another is needed at some point to get me to that wonderful afterglow feeling.  So vibrating toys, fingers, or some kind of oral stimulation is the extra step that is required for me to reach orgasmic state.  Usually before i have sex my partner will know what's up with me and thus i get the 'you just haven't been with the right man' comments that i cherish so dearly.   Most of the men i've been with thus far have uttered some kind of iteration of this phrase at some point.  Ooo baby I'll make you feel good.  I call shenanigans on all of these men.  

I have only had one or two lovers in my 29 years that have actually measured up to the comments that they have made.  They say its all about me and surprisingly enough, it was.  This is very very very very unusual though.  Atypical i would even say.

I'll give a for instance:  Its a tuesday evening and i get a call.  Its Horatio (what? its possible i know someone named Horatio) and he wants to come over and 'hang out'.  What he means by this is that he wants to come over and have sex with me and then sleep in my bed.   And sex usually means 2 minutes of psuedo foreplay and then  i get flipped over and he will go at it for another 5 minutes and then shazaam, its over.  Sex completed.  The worst thing about this whole scenario is that Horatio has in the past been able to give me an orgasm orally.  We've known each other for a year or so and its happened twice.  We've had sex upwards of 30 times since we've met and i've had an orgasm 2 times.  HE gets to have one every single time we have sex but i get to have one every 6 months.  Awesome.  

Perhaps the worst part about this issue is that its consistent with all men.  As long as they get where they were going they could care less about who else is along for the ride.   I am so done with this.  I've reached the end of my tether with this kind of bull crap behavior.  Don't get me wrong, i truly enjoy sex, but i do not enjoy feeling as if my needs are not important.  I like to have sex and i do not, under any circumstances, NEED to have an orgasm every time i have sex.  I like being close to someone and knowing that i am adding pleasure to their life.  At this point i'd be satisfied with more than 3 times a year.  3 TIMES A YEAR!  I should not need to go home after an intimate evening with a guy and bust out my vibrator because he was too lazy to go the extra mile.  

Women are all different and we are difficult to please.  I get it.  I really do.  Men, I know that its frustrating that the tricks that work on one woman do not work for another.  But, and i cannot stress this enough, i don't care anymore.  I want to be with a man who gives a hoot whether i'm satisfied or not.  The dangerous part of this issue is that i walk away feeling as if I'm just not worth the time or energy.  I believe the feeling is called used.  I realize (and truly believe) that these men do not intend for me to feel this way but they don't make any effort to change their behavior so i start to fall into the mental blackhole that makes me think 'maybe i'm just not important'.    

I mentioned earlier that i am feeling lonely.  This is somewhat false as i am not lonely for company so much as i'm tired of being single.  Loneliness is hazardous.  I yearn for a relationship with a man that wants to spend time with me and wants to add joy and pleasure to my life.  I know these men exist but i haven't found one as of yet.  So this leaves me with the idiots that continue to make no more effort than a periodic phone call and the gas it takes to drive to where i am.  The interludes last no more than a few hours (perhaps a few more if we add in sleeping time) and i'm back to feeling used and unimportant.  

I need to start insisting on better behavior from my lovers.  Affection and respect shouldn't be exclusive to relationship status but apparently they are. So now i'm learning to say no to random sex and thats difficult for me.  I like being intimate.  The noises, the sensations, the closeness, the fun....  all hard for me to say no to.  But i guess I've gotten to the point that i want more.  More of everything.  Which means i need to say no to the random 'more' from X or Y guy who springs into existence periodically.  I suck at saying no...but i guess i need to say no so i can say yes to something better.  Looking out for ones own future is poopy.  

2009 has started. Its only been a few days but it already seems like things might be looking up. Decisions made, outlook renewed, things to look forward to and whatnot. But aside from all this there's a clean slate feeling to this year. I ended last year smoothly and without incident with a mellow and quiet christmas in hawaii with my sister. The trip was almost offensively exspensive if i factor in meals and my lack of willpower when it comes to surfer chick fashion. But we finally did the last thing that needed to be done for our parents. We spread (dumped?) the rest of our mother's ashes at a quiet secluded beach behind a park in Haliewa on Oahu. But somehow in the last 3 years i had managed to get used to her being on the top shelf of my bookcase. Its not as if i ever truly thought that her ashes were her but rather what she once was. Her presence there symbolized the last step to my final acceptance with her being gone...and after papa died it was acceptance for both of them. So she's now in Hawaii. I have this image in my head of those moments...i gave my sister the container of ashes and she poured them gently into the water. We had chosen that particular beach entirely on accident but it was surprisingly perfect and the weather was being generous and giving us non windyness (blow back with parental remains was not something either of us wanted to deal with in therapy). I didnt know before a few weeks ago but human remains have a denser texture, more like sand than ashes. There were some slightly larger bone fragments, no bigger than a AA battery but big enough to notice. My sister reached down into the water and picked out one of the fragments. I will forever remember the odd feeling of watching my sister, the osteologist, holding a piece of my mothers bone in her fingers. She had a strange mixture of expressions on her face. Half slightly frustrated concentration as the anthropologist in her was trying to identify what she was holding exactly and half careful concern while the daughter in her was realizing that the bone in her hand was the last part of our mother she could tangibly touch. Then she bent back down and put it back in the water and my mother went out with the tide. It was how it needed to be.

Skewed

I wrote this a while ago but only today (Tuesday, Feb 12th 2008) decided to finish it. It still applies...

Recently I feel as if my perception of how romantic love is supposed to work has been skewed. I've been in love before...I think. Admittedly I was head over heels for my ex but in hindsight I wonder if I was really in love with him so much as stuck in a holding pattern with the boy I had liked since high school. David and I loved each other just enough to make the both of us miserable. He was the boy I thought I wanted but when it came down to it I didn't like who I was when I was with him. I suppose I should thank him for being the total ass that he is and cheating on me so I could actually get far enough away from him to realize what I had become while I was with him and how much I did not want him anymore. I've been single and dating on and off for almost 2 years now and I’ve dated some real...err interesting men. Jason: real estate guru with a smart mouth and the biggest sparkliest watch I’ve ever seen that wanted to keep me around for fun bedroom games even though he acquired a girlfriend halfway through our friendship. Adam: a gorgeous firefighter that had the IQ of a starfish and an unending kindness but wanted me to meet his parents after the first week we were dating. Ron: Silly, brilliant and comforting to be around with a voice I could listen to for hours. Ron #2: ex NFL player and personal trainer with a quiet humor that was 20 years older than me but fantastical in bed. John: a confident and attractive phlebotomist but far too self focused to notice anyone but himself or his dog (though that damn dog was cute). An eclectic mix of personalities that I found myself drawn to for one reason or another but all carrying the same inevitable problem. Well...not their problem per say. Mostly my problem with the fact that they were all equipped with a large glaring compatibility issue. Different man, different issue but they always had one. It ranged from something as obvious as a massive age difference to something as insidiously seductive as the feeling of being needed. They all had something that made them impossible for me to mentally or emotionally attach myself to. Only recently have I realized that I was purposefully choosing men that were unavailable because they were safe. Or rather, I was safe. Safe from opening myself up to someone else that might find me lacking...as David did. As I perceived David did. When did I give that ahole so much power over me? I think it might have been a gradual thing that I adapted to over time. Like learning to drive. At first you think about every little detail and obsess about tiny things but eventually everything is second nature. If given an opportunity will I be able to step up and be vulnerable? I'd like to hope so. The other night I found myself getting nervous about the presence of particular people in my heart. What if I get hurt again? What if he's not what he seems? What if my people-picker is completely damaged? So much to worry about. I don't see any point in avoiding caring about people that I already care about. Going with the flow. Love and affection should be welcomed with open arms and heart. I will somehow channel my mother and accept the fact that there are things within my life that I can embrace rather than hide from. She would be disappointed with me if I gave up on passion.... and that’s what I want. Passion. I want passion and comfort, silliness and intellect, acceptance and affection. Not so much really.

What doesn't kill us makes us stronger.
I don't think i like this statement. In fact, i would really like to have a few moments alone with the person who came up with this annoying turn of phrase. What the hell is it supposed to mean anyway? I could cut off one of my arms and, if it didn't kill me, i sure as hell don't think it would make me any stronger than i was with 2 arms. Although i might have one really really strong arm after awhile. But either way, I would probably just wonder for the rest of my life why the hell I cut off my own freaking arm in the first place.
I realize that this statement is based on the concept of being able to carry the baggage that we all have and learn from it. You get through the trials and hardships that life pitches at you and come out a stronger person for it. Well poo on that. I feel that personally, although I have many problems and issues to look forward to, I have learned enough lessons for now and have enough reason to want said lessons to stop for awhile. I want to get off the bus now. Hell, I'll even ride the short bus for a bit if it means that i don't have to get any stronger just yet.
Maybe there is a reason that certain people learn certain lessons before other people do. If there is, can someone please drop me a line and tell me why. Its not as if I would like any of the people I know and love to go through the same life experiences that I have, but sometimes it would be nice to know that I'm not playing this thrilling game of life with weighted dice or a stacked deck. I suppose that life is just a crap shoot and we all get whatever is rolled regardless of the dice. Life is like a box of chocolates. Ya never know what you're gonna get...unless you go through the box and poke the bottoms of all the chocolates so that you know what you are gonna get.

Its funny how dramatically life can change in the space of one breath. If you had asked me 5 years ago what i thought my life would look like today, i wouldn't have thought that it would resemble what it is now. If i look back, i can see hints and signs of what the future held. At the time, i chose to ignore anything that was scary or incomprehensible to my universe regardless of what impact it would create later on. Not unlike driving by a guy holding a sign saying 'the end is near'. As the world is ending a lot of people will have a clear memory of that guy and think 'why didn't i listen?'.

I have, thus far, survived the loss of both my parents to disease, either of the body or the mind. I had the best parents ever. They made me what i am today and though some may argue, myself included, that what i am is not perfect and unacceptable at times, i have to believe that this is the way things were supposed to go. This is the person i am with all the baggage that goes along with being me. I carry it with pride and sometimes with the a little help from my friends and sister. Though i have made huge mistakes in the past and likely will make many more, i have hope that someday my sister and i will figure out what all this loss is for. We are a tiny ragged army that has fought many hard won battles but we are both still here.
Together.

Still Bangkoks Pouring Rain

Somehow the rain now reminds me of Thailand.
The storm today brought back vivid memories of my trips. The islands, Bangkok, it was always raining or at least it seems it always was.

The people there have a sixth sense when it comes to the weather. But of course they should being that for many of them their livelihood depends on being able to sell their wares out in the elements. The ratio of street vendors to actual shopfronts is amazingly huge. Very few can afford to have an actual locking door or inner sanctum to their shop so the streets are packed with street vendors.

I remember one late afternoon Samantha and I had returned from a small trek that we had taken to a temple north of Bangkok. We had decided to sit in a small restaurant (restaurant meaning a place that has a kitchen housed inside a building but still no aircon, no bathrooms, nothing fancy, and most of the seating is on the patio/sidewalk) have a cool drink and talk about our trip to the temple. We had just returned from the Tiger Temple, Wat Pa Luangta Bua Yanasampanno Forest Monastery, in Saiyok District of Kanchanaburi Province. To be exact. ;) I really have no idea where that is but I do know where the website is so check it out if you're interested. http://www.tigertemple.org/Eng/ cut and paste yo!

Samantha had walked with the abbot and one of the tigers as they were escorting the tiger back to his digs. There is a picture of her doing it. One of the few i managed to save from her pyschotic need to erase all pictures starring herself. It had been raining at the temple. Usually the tigers were lying around sunning themselves in the heat but because of the rain they were up and pacing and quite interested in what was going on. The cubs in particular were fun to watch. They were trying to attack the raindrops as they plopped in the puddles and mud around them. They were very cute but lets keep in mind here that these tigers were on 10ft chains and we were sitting on makeshift benches 25ft away. No walls. No fences. Just 30 or so chains holding the 30 or so tigers to their particular spots. Interesting experience to say the least. We had a lot of fun.

So later that day, Samantha and I were sitting at a red plastic table on the sidewalk of koh sahn road sipping our drinks (I think she had a Pepsi and a watermelon shake while I had my usual mango shake. Shake meaning fruit and ice blended, no dairy) and talking about the tigers and the rain and our upcoming flight down to the islands. As I looked around I noticed that most of the street vendors had started to pull out plastic tarps and were rigging them up over their stands. It had been raining up north but there wasn't a cloud that I could see in Bangkok. About ten minutes later the sky opened up and threw down a massive amount of water. It rained for 4 or 5 hours, only slowing down to a drizzle by the time we fell asleep.

I vividly remember the smell of Bangkok in the rain. The feeling of walking between the stalls on the sidewalks under the rain tarps. The air was sticky and hot, so heavy it felt like a physical presence. There was almost a claustrophobic feeling because of the tunnel like atmosphere that the rain tarps created. Every once in a while there would be a break in the tunnel, people crowded around it, either waiting for a the rain to let up or taking in as much of the fresh air as possible before pushing back into the next section of souvenir bliss.

The air smelled like a mixture of spices, rain, incense, sweat and depending on where you were standing, garbage. But every now and again there was the scent of sandalwood oil coming from one of the massage parlors or the smell of fried spring rolls and noodles. The stalls were an eclectic combination of goods. Small brown wooden frogs carved by hill tribe people that make the exact noise of a croaking frog when you rattle a stick down the ridges down its back were sitting next to the newest burns of American music. The people call out to you in English offering deals and bargains for tailor made suits and ballgowns. Tuk-tuk drivers hollering "50 baht! Tour of city!". Beautiful Thai girls dressed in short skirts and tube tops passing out bright pink and yellow flyers about the hottest new dance clubs and drink specials. Just an everyday night in Bangkok.

That is what the rain in Arizona makes me think of.