Despite two recent interests, I’ve sort of been feeling like my dating life is on the rocks. Quick, send a merman to rescue me!

A week or two ago I went on a really interesting date with a guy. He’s a physicist, and extremely sociable and I have to say it was incredibly enjoyable to talk to somebody so intelligent and witty. Sometimes I feel in my life that I am losing some of my ability to articulate myself, out of lack of practice. My friends and I are so close that we often dispense with entire sentences even. Conversations can be bewildering for somebody who’s not a part of our group. Some would say that’s cliqueish, but I think that the nature of small groups is that they begin to create shared experiences which in turn become part of their own micro-culture. Like I said to a friend at a bar the other day, “I don’t speak butch.”

Bringing that back around to dating, I am extremely interested in maculinity (in many forms. Being a dickhead doesn’t make somebody maculine, it just makes him undatable.) But I have a hard time talking with some people. Normally it’s guys who self-identify as a kind of bro, or a dude. Guys for whom their guyness is a conscious act – something I find incredibly hot and attractive. But I feel like we’re not always speaking the same language and I have a hard time finding common interests with somebody who’s really into surfing, cars, and parties for example. Even if that guy is incredibly intelligent, sometimes they don’t seem willing to articulate themselves or to discuss things like that. It’s as though that is a private part of them that they don’t share. As you can imagine, that makes it incredibly difficult to try and date somebody like that.

Now granted, all this is just from my experiences. Everyday I look forward to finding myself proven wrong on some thing or other that disappoints me.

Tuesday I’m making food for a sunset picnic at a local park with a guy who’s a techie. We have had lots to talk about, including my recent migration to Linux (I’m using the Mint distribution, which is wonderful!

I’m still keenly aware of the fact that part of me rejects the idea of a boyfriend, but I still want to date and even be a little romantic. It’s just going to take some explaining. “I want to give you flowers and kiss you, but I don’t want to date you seriously just yet.”

I want to…I think I could call this courtship? I want to do sweet, respectful things. I want to “go slow” but not just in the physical sense (since I can fuck a total stranger and only later recall that I never learned his name. Oops.) I need to not scare myself off with the potential for a relationship – especially since so often that potential never materializes through my own fault or the fault of some other force.

Sorry for the rambling, but I just wanted to let you all know I’m not dead!

How I let myself get flaked out on 4 times by the same guy, I’ll never know. I guess I’m a slow learner when I’m horny. But today was just the last straw. This morning I was listening to the album PCD in the shower – I know that sounds a wee bit trashy – and thinking “Goll, I really like these independent lyrics!” only to come home and jerk off after being stood up before putting I Don’t Need A Man on repeat.

I don’t need a man
To make it happen
I get off being free

Today I put an idea I’ve had for a long time into action. Today you can get an Angry Queer t-shirt here. They come in men and women’s sizes in as many colors as possible with more being added very shortly.

I have a new co-worker who is several kinds of awesome. We have a lot of things in common and he’s great to hang out with. At first I thought maybe he was gay, since he seemed particularly friendly to me and lord knows that must mean he wants some of the sweet loving stuff, right? Wellll, not exactly. I’ll admit I was a little disappointed, but he’s still awesome and since I’ve sworn off of dating for a while anyway it seemed no big deal.

Everything was fine until a few days ago when I heard from another co-worker that one of our customers had asked the new guy about his orientation, in public, in front of a lot of people and all I could think was “Not okay! Not okay at ALL!” In the middle of my indignation I realized how hypocritical I had been. I’d been discussing him with my friends, some of whom I work with, and realized the difference between talking about it behind his back and asking him face-to-face is small and both are inappropriate in a workplace, even one as extremely casual as ours.

I saw him on Sunday at work and apologized for him being asked so publicly, and in a way apologizing for any discomfort he might end up feeling because of such scrutiny from anybody. I told him, “That’s not a question you should have to answer from anybody. That is nobody’s business but yours.” He laughed it off, so it doesn’t seem to have been a big deal for him but it certainly shed new light on my behaviour!

Sunday night was particularly shitty for me. A date I’d been on and had a great time on apparently was not a mutually enjoyable experience since he stopped replying to my texts after I’d told him I had a great time on Friday. Cue me being over-invested and crying and gratuitous ice cream purchasing.

Monday night was a vaaaast improvement. I had a guy over, and the original plan was to stay up all night and play card and board games. We stayed up until about 2 and then went to bed. I invited him to sleep in my bed since we had talked about the benefits of cuddling without the expectation of sexual activity.

Wooow. Wow! He was warm and smelled amazing and I felt so cozy and frankly I felt cute as hell cuddled up next to him all night. There was one moment in the middle of the night where I kissed his cheek, and he kissed me, and there was sleepy-passionate-grunty making out in our pajamas and then we went back to sleep and did it again when we woke up.

My day has started off much improved for all of this, thank fucking god because now I have to take myself down to the DMV.

Amazon.com is full of epic fail. Amazon Rank my ass.

When children ask their parents, “Why did you get married?” what do you want to bet that 99% of heterosexual people don’t say “Because I wanted to fuck the same person for the rest of my life.” When children ask “What’s it like to be in l ove?” what do you want to bet that 99% of heterosexual people don’t say “Well it feels like your father’s/mother’s penis and/or vagina and my explosive orgasm.”

Why is it that when so many people think of gay, lesbian, trans, genderqueer, genderfucked, questioning, queer, or just plain kinky people the only thing they can think of is the sex? Is that why when kids ask about gays it seems so hard to explain?

Look. Don’t explain anal sex to your toddler. Don’t explain cunnilingus to your grade schooler. Don’t explain strap-ons, vibrators, cock-rings, lube, or a sling to your kids until they need to know. When your kid asks,”What does Aunt Mary do with Aunt Heather?” or  ”Why does Uncle Rob live with Uncle Tim?” or “Is cousin Sean dating a lady or a boy?” or “Is my brother gay?”  don’t think about the hot, sweaty, growling, gentle, tender, loving sex that those people have. Think about the warm smiles, and the loving looks, the tight hugs and the quick pecks. Think about birthdays, graduations, hard nights, and glorious days, fights and making up. Explain that it’s about love. It’s all about love.

That other stuff? They’ll figure most of it out on their own, and if you teach them not to be ashamed, to be strong and safe, and to know that it’s about love then they’ll be okay. If you can’t tell them about that stuff yourself, that’s what all the books are for. At least, if they can find them.

The problem with my sexual economy is that the supply never matches the demand.

Perhaps when I have more of an income, I will invest in an apartment that could house two people. I could get a live-in handyman/sex slave who work in exchange for food and shelter.

Me: John, I need the sink fixed.
John:Okay.
Me: But first, I need my ass pounded in the kitchen for an hour.
John: Okay! Which lube do you want?
Me: Oh I dunno, surprise me okay handsome?

See? It’d be so handy. He could probably do small remodels and home improvement too. I could finally get the bathroom floor tiled properly.

Or rather, in an e-mail.

I’ve been sort of looking to meet and make friends-with-benefits with a transguy for the past few months in the interest of

A) Expanding my understanding of my own sexuality.
B) Learning more about some of the practical issues of transmen’s genitals. Knowing there’s a sort of man that I don’t know how to get off is really infuriating.

The other day I thought I’d found such a guy, and I was really excited. Maybe a bit giddy, even. I sent him two short e-mails the next day. One mentioning that I had had a dream about us fucking and that I was excited to meet up, the other asking if he had called since there had been an unmarked number in my phone and I had been at work.

What I got back was an e-mail wherein he proved that you don’t have to strap on a dick just to act like one. Insulting, condescending, and just plain rude. Now I’m feeling like it’s not worth the trouble since the few guys I’ve been interested in aren’t interested in me and the one who was turned out to be a dick.

Maybe later, maybe somebody I meet organically from friends or my own activities, but tonight I have a date with a ridiculously smart, bald, cis-boy who has got me all kinds of hot after his intelligent discussion of religion, art, philosophy, and some sciences last night. I sort of swoon when he does his nerdflexing. Rawr, intellectual hots are awesome.

Alright friends, here’s where I call in the favors. What? You don’t owe me any? Well then may I borrow some advice please?

How do you perform oral sex on a man with a clitoris?

Leave it in a comment below, I am most grateful for any tips you may have for me.

P.S. I will be using this advice fairly soon, I hope. Keep your dildos crossed for me.

If I want to love you, I’ll never seduce you.

I’ll never feel comfortable wearing my sexy underwear for you, moaning your name, feeling your hard on, being naked in front of you. I won’t want you to see me that way, because I’m afraid you won’t see me any other way. That you won’t really love me. That you’ll use me.

If I want to seduce you, I’ll never love you.

I’ll never feel comfortable wearing my baggy sweats around you, or talking when I first wake up with my voice rough and raspy, feeling you hug me, wearing anything less than my sexiest clothes. I won’t want you to see me that way because I’m afraid you won’t want me anymore. That you’ll have used me.

I don’t want to be fetishized, I don’t want to be idolized. I don’t want you to look at me with awe. I don’t want to feel like your pet, your wife, your baby, your everything.

I want your respect and trust. I want it to be uncomplicated. I want us to be sweet like honey – not like refined sugar. I want to fight about what’s important, and sometimes about what’s not. I want honesty and straightforward, awkward reassurances. I don’t need to be seduced, I just need to know what you’re feeling. I want you to want me wanting you – want to want to want to need it.

I want to hold you and I want to be near you and I want to feel comfortable around you no matter what I wear, or what I say. I want to be deeper than friends, love stronger than lovers, more faithful than nuns, more sexual than whores, all in comfort. Comfort and trust and respect. Can you earn my trust? Can you get that deep inside me? I’m ready to be convinced that you won’t leave. Teach me how to fold my love and lust together.