Category: sex

Needs and Wants

In my last post I disclosed my need for a guy who takes the lead.  (I know, from experience, that if I try to have a relationship with a man who doesn’t want to have that role in our relationship then I’m going to be miserable). I’m still dealing with family stuff and so I’m not in town/dating and I have plenty of time to think. I got to thinking  about what other things I need from a man, and what things I merely want.

-I need a man who is essentially kind. Kindness is an underrated value in our society. Everyone is always talking about wanting to meet a “nice guy”. Well screw that.  You can keep your nice guys. Nice is just the way someone acts.  Kindness is about an inner generosity or caring.
-I need him to be empathetic.  Empathy is an odd thing.  If you have it you feel it automatically for the people around you. Empathy allows you to share the lives of the people you care about in a rich and profound way. But if you don’t learn it as a child, it’s hard to acquire as an adult. There are lots of people out here in the world who don’t feel empathy. I tried to have a relationship with one of them.  It was hard. Painful and hard. I couldn’t do that again.
-I need a guy who likes sex as much as I do.  This might seem like a no-brainer, but it’s not. I’ve had relationships that were strained because the guy was happy enough to have sex a couple of times a week.  That’s not enough for me (not when I’m IN A RELATIONSHIP).
-He needs to have a sense of perspective. If he loves his work, great.  If he hates his work, that’s cool, too. Whatever. If he’s writing a screenplay or the great American novel or a punk opera… I need him to understand that whatever he’s working on is not the most important thing in the world.  The world doesn’t revolve around him (nor me) and he needs to have interests and opinions about the world outside his work/passion.
-I need a guy who’s happy, with himself and his life. A miserable guy makes a miserable boyfriend.
-I need a guy who is confident.
I know, that’s not your average list of needs. I’m one odd chick, I guess.
And now for my wants.  Those are ‘easier’:
-I want a guy who likes to have silly fun, sometimes- let’s go for a 5 hour walk because it’s a nice day, or climb a tree, or go kayaking on the Hudson.
-I want a guy who like to have grown-up fun, sometimes – let’s get dressed up and find the best Manhattan in Manhattan or listen to some amazing jazz (I’ve got a closet full of little black dresses, dammit).
-I want a guy who’s got a little bit of geek or screw-up inside of him. A big lesson learned for me in recent years is that golden boys make lousy partners. You know the types, the ones who’ve always been successful, always gotten everything they wanted. I’d much rather have a guy who struggled a bit in his past, who couldn’t get a date or a job or maybe started a business that failed. A guy who’s learned some humility.
Too much to ask for?

Following the Tangent – An Even Bigger WTF

A couple of years ago I met this guy and we went out for a drink. It was an unremarkable date (attractive and intelligent but arrogant – the classic NY triple) except for the fact that as I was leaving he grabbed me and gave me a pretty fabulous kiss.  We emailed back and forth to try to arrange a second date but kept on stumbling over scheduling and eventually I gave up.  I was just really busy with work back then and he was completely inflexible.

About 6-8 months later our paths crossed again and he asked me out again.  I said yes and we had another pleasant enough date.  I made it clear to him that I was seeking a LTR (eventually) and if he was looking for something casual then we were a mismatch.  After dinner there was a considerable amount of PDA out on the street and it was all rather good, but I felt he was pushing things too fast and said so.
Those of you who’ve been reading my blog for a while know I’m no prude. Far from it.  I just didn’t think it’d be helpful for us to have sex that night.  I wanted to get to know him a little better before things got sexual. Otherwise the sex, if it was good, might’ve taken over the relationship.
For our next date he invited me over to his house for the afternoon.  He had one of those fabulous brownstones in Brooklyn with  a big, beautiful garden. It was the summer and we were hanging out in the garden.
At some point he took me for a tour of the house and we started to kiss. And, well, I should’ve known that he wasn’t going to be happy with things moving slow.  He wasn’t that kind of a guy. And so I left.  I figured I knew all I needed to know about him.  If he wasn’t mature enough to respect my desire to get to know him a little better (it was our 3rd or 2nd date, depending on whether you counted the one from many months before as who could even remember who said what from back then) before we got naked then he wasn’t the kind of guy I wanted in my life. I thought that was the end of it.
A couple of days later I got an email from him.  I wish I saved it. He said that since we weren’t well suited for a relationship (those weren’t his words, damn I wish I saved that email) perhaps I’d like to join him in a threesome. He then went on to describe in some detail what that might be like and to draw my attention to the attachment of the photo of the very attractive woman he was referencing.  Now again, for my frequent readers, you know I am not a prude. I didn’t wilt from embarrassment at the thought of a threesome.  I did, however, laugh my ass off as I read that email. It was one of the few occasions where I managed to keep myself from replying. There were no appropriate words for what I was thinking.  Except, of course, what the fuck? 

Welcome

This week is getting wilder by the day.   I thought I’d post a quick update before bed.

But first, I see I have a lot of new readers this week.  How cool.  Welcome to all of you.  Please let me know what you like best and least about the blog.  I am still figuring a lot of this stuff out.  I am a writer and don’t really understand a lot of the online world (I just learned some blogger and html basics last week so that I don’t feel so clueless).
I was scheduled to see the bad dater for dinner tomorrow night but I’ve rescheduled that until Sunday.  I got an email from one of my fuck buddies today.  He just got back into town and, well, it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other and wealways have a good time together. Quite frankly I need a guaranteed good time (Which is different than getting laid, btw.  Sex is sex and sure it’s nice to get laid tonight, but some people are just better than others.) more than a pleasant dinner date.
Updates later in the week, I promise.

Waking Up With Someone

I can’t imagine living somewhere that didn’t have seasons. I love it when the leaves change colors. I love the cool spring nights. I love the snow. I even love the sticky New York summers, when I need to hang out by the river to stay cool.

But I do hate how cold the mornings are in the winter. These last couple of weeks have been the first really cold weeks. Each day, I pull my covers around myself tightly as my alarm goes off in the morning and think, “damn, I hate waking up alone”. ‘Cause you see, someone lying next to me, cuddling, would keep me warm. That’s not the only thing that someone would be good for, mind you, but with the mornings as cold as they are, that’s what I’m thinking about first.

Let me be crystal clear here, I am super picky about who is allowed to spend the night in my bed. Fuck buddies don’t get to spend the night. Not even if I’ve known them for years (which happens to he the case for one of them). Not casual flings either. Not even potential bfs. The only guys I spend the night with are bonafide boyfriends. That means I have already decided that this is someone I care a lot about. He’s no longer auditioning for a role in my life. He’s earned it.

I wasn’t always so much of a hardass about this. I’ve taken the walk of shame more than a couple of times (The walk of shame, for those of you who’ve never heard the phrase is when you spend the night with someone you weren’t planning to, maybe because you just picked them up. You spend the night at their place w/o any of your stuff and wake up w/o toothbrush, hairbrush or any grooming products and have to go home in last nights clothes looking like something the cat spit up.) And I’ve let guys I didn’t know too well spend the night at my place. Then it hit me a few years ago. Fucking is about fun, but sleeping with someone and waking up with them was actually about intimacy and that why couldn’t I just be clear about having one w/o the other. Have my cake and eat it too. So I have sex when I want to with whom I want to (not just any random person, you know anyone I felt attracted to and wanted to fuck for whatever reason – I don’t consider that random as I’m kind of picky) but only SLEEP with my boyfriends.

It’s nearing a year since my last LTR imploded. That’s a really long time to be sleeping alone. I’ve gone longer, sure. But still, it’s a really long time. It feels like a really long time. And the fact that it’s so freaking cold right now and I wake up every morning wishing for that body next to me, it’s not helping things.

December 1st is World AIDS Day

I could sit here and write my own post about how important it is to recognize this day. I write openly about the fact that I am sexually active, and so therefore this is an issue that affects me.

However, I just read a great post over on 20/40.com on this topic, and so I will defer to that.

I just have a couple of things to add, from my own, personal perspective. HIV and AIDS are real. I happen to live in a reality with many people who struggle daily to live full, happy lives with the virus. It’s possible to do that now, thank goodness.

There are people, though, who have become complacent. Who don’t use condoms 100% of the time. Who forget how many people have died and how many others people are infected each year. Maybe it’s an age thing. I was already a sexual teenager when AIDS first hit the newspapers. It was news – sex can kill. Yes, HIV is not the death sentence it once was. But it’s not a joyous gift either. There’s no excuse for carelessness.

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