Tag: fuck buddy

Hierarchy

Writing in response to my Circling Back Around entry a few days back, cjwss suggested that I come up with some kind of hierarchy of categories, as right now I am assessing every guy I go out with as an applicant for future life partner status.

So first, some clarification from me.  I absolutely am looking at each date as a potential life partner.  I do not want to waste another night/week/month/year of my life with a guy who might be perfectly nice, might be great in bed, might be funny (add in whatever other positive attributes you like) but in the end is not ever going to turn into a real bf or significant LTR.  I AM OLD.  I REPEAT, I AM OLD.  And I’m tired of sleeping alone.  I know, from experience that I am happier when I have a partner.  I am looking for someone to be a partner for a long haul, maybe not the long haul (not too sure I believe in the whole happily ever after thing) but a good long time.
I am not desperate.  My biological clock isn’t driving me nuts.  I do not waste countless hours wishing I had a guy and dreaming about my perfect man and imagining my fantasy wedding.  I know that according to the media that I am supposed to be and do all of those things, but that’s not me.  Not even a little.  I just know what I want, what’s going to make me happiest at this point in my life and I’m willing to put in a little effort towards finding it.  I know most people believe that you can’t look for love, and that might very well be true, but I’m certainly not going to find it sitting alone in my apartment with a good book (which is probably what I’d be doing most of those nights if I wasn’t dating).
I have gone through long stretches of time where my head was in other things (usually work) and I was perfectly happy to have the not-serious bf who I knew was never going to turn into anything.  And as I have written about before, I have had, and still have fuckbuddies for when I am in between relationships.
I guess what I’m saying is that I’ve always had that hierarchy.  It’s existed in my life for as long as I can remember.  There are the 1s (fuckbuddies) who are good for sex and short conversation and would never get to spend the night, not in a million years.  There are the 2s (guys I’ve dated knowing full well it was never going to turn into anything) who might be fun for dinner, movies or parties, in addition to sex, and heck they can stay the night if they don’t snore too much. Then there are the 3s.  The 1s and the 2s are easy to find, especially in NYC.  Not so with the 3s. The 3s are the guys you take home to your family, who help you fix your broken furniture, who keep you warm on cold nights.
I don’t care how many dates I have to go on to find one, that’s what I want, one of those elusive 3s.  I’ve had my fill of the others for now.  Maybe I’ll change my mind sometime in the future if my current search continues to go poorly.  Who knows?  But for now I’m sticking to my guns.  3 or nothing at all.

Crappy Update

Early this morning I received an email from my fuckbuddy.  The thing he’s working on now is going to run until midnight tonight instead of 7ish as he had originally thought.  I’m not mad. Disappointed but not mad.  This is not the first time this has happened with him and I know better than to count on him keeping plans unless they’re made a couple of hours before we’re planning to get together.  We’ll try for another time soon.

So I’m using the time to take some advice given to me by a friendly blogger.  I’ve been aware of tags for awhile but that’s just one more thing I didn’t fully understand.  But I just read something that said that Blogger labels will ping as Technorati tags so I went back and tagged my last 20 posts.  The next time I have time to kill (like at work tomorrow) I’ll go back and hit the rest of them.
So sorry, no steamy tales of tonight’s tryst. You weren’t going to get them anyway.

Much TMI for My Real World Friends – You’ve Been Warned

It was 18 years ago, but I still remember the conversation vividly because of some pretty big life stuff that happened in the weeks that followed. I was 20 yrs old, hanging out with one of my friends in her apartment, talking about the new guy in my life. She asked me his last name. I told her I didn’t know it, and what’s more, it seemed like an odd question to me. “Last name, why would I care about a guy’s last name?” She got rather huffy with me and said, “Look, ___, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be sleeping with some guy if you don’t even know his last name.” I laughed at her and said something about there not being much sleep involved.

In the years since then, I’ve had sex with several more men whose last names I never learned. I don’t actually know how many. OK, that’s a lie. I could figure it out if I really wanted to, but I don’t want to.

I’ve also, and judge me however you want for this, had sex with a couple of people whose first names I never bothered with.

I’ve had and continue to have fuck-buddies who are little more than casual encounters with whom I exchange occasional emails about whether or not they’re free to come over and play.

God this is embarrassing.

So why am I telling you all of this? Well, it brings me to this. Over the last few days there has been an interesting exchange of ideas between this blog and over at Hammertime . Earlier, after Hammer and I exchanged some comments on each other’s blogs (oh wait – I just checked and he didn’t post my comments – whatever), he sent me an email. He took the conversation off blog. He thought I was annoyed and didn’t, in his words, want to hijack my blog. Anyway, this is what he wrote to me:

“I totally get that as humans we have this desire to be unique and not be grouped in with others, but I think that you are vastly underestimating the evolutionary basis for attraction.Men have evolved to be attracted to child bearing characteristics so that their offspring are more likely to survive childbirth. This is why men are so visual.

Women have evolved to be attracted to guys who will be able to protect and provide for their young. This is why alpha male and leadership characteristics are so attractive to women. This is why celebrity status and power are so attractive to women. One of the biggest fears for survival of a woman’s genes is that the man will impregnate her and then leave her to care for the baby on her own. This is why women want to have some kind of emotional connection with men before they sleep with them. It’s why women typically get a little anxiety right before sex with a new guy despite having been imaging it for days.

We have not had contraception until very recently in our evolutionary history, which is why our genetic makeup need only lead us to desire sex and not necessarily unprotected sex.”

Honestly, I laughed when I read this. I know he is an earnest young man. And I know he really believes this stuff. I am not trying to denigrate his beliefs or make him look foolish. As I have tried to point out, more than once, there is a world of difference between our levels of experience – both relationship/sexual and life experience. But as he is so insistent I will address his comments directly.

I have absolutely no need for an emotional connection with a man before sex. ABSOLUTELY. NO. NEED. I don’t even need to know his name. Sex Chat is fun. It’s recreation. It can also be more than that, but doesn’t need to be.

I do not get a little anxiety right before sex with a new guy. Unless of course you count worrying that he might suck (‘cause yeah, a lot of you guys are horrible lays – you watch too much damn porn) and be a waste of my time.

I do not think I am an atypical woman. I think there are lots of different types of women in the world. My old friend, the one who lectured me about knowing a guy’s last name, she’d fit a lot of his stereotypes. But I don’t know too many others who would.

Life is really, really short. It’s scary how short it is. I have no time for generalizations and other random silliness. I realize there are people who take great comfort in that sort of thing, trying to sort and categorize and predict. I guess it would be comforting to believe that you actually know how people will act before you meet them and get to know them. As I said when I first introduced myself to folks out here, I don’t pretend to know a damn thing. I’m just figuring it out day by day, as I go along. And I guess I feel strong enough, and confident enough in who I am as a person nowadays to live with that uncertainty.

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 meet and 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.

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.

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