Soul mates

There’s something to be said for open-mindedness.

It’s strange when you realize that you live outside the constraints of society, and not only that, but your life is simply so much better because you don’t buy into the whole package deal. There are moments when I think that maybe it would be nice to believe in true love and forever after, but then I have nights like tonight, when I leave with a broad grin on my face, knowing that I’m experiencing things that other people simply can’t ever imagine.

There was some funny dinnertime conversation. My parents are always interested to know what the Oldest and Best Friend is up to. I told them about her new lady, and how well she’s doing. I even added how great it is to spend time with her, because no matter what, it’s always great. My dad asked if she’s only with girls now, and I mentioned that I don’t even know. It wasn’t a conversation we were about to have last night, when the new lady was around. But I also told my parents that we were one another’s firsts. That I was the first girl she was with and vice versa. That prompted my dad to ask me if I could see myself ever being in a relationship with a woman, to which I responded, that yes, if I ever met a girl I connected with emotionally, intellectually, and physically, absolutely.

And that’s why I feel so lucky. It’s really crazy when the two of us hang out, because we’re still the same people we’ve always been. We’ve known one another forever. We know each other better than anyone else knows us. There’s absolute honesty and zero judgment, which isn’t something you can come across that often. When I was talking about her, my dad said that maybe we’re soul mates. And I think we are.

We fooled around tonight. It was pretty hilarious, because within minutes of my arrival, we had already started talking about sex and relationships, and I can’t remember how it came up, but she said something about wondering whether she’d be able to get me into bed, and I told her that I’d been thinking about kissing her. So most of a bottle of wine later, and lots of great bonding and talking and giggling, I was really thinking about how much I wanted to kiss her. And I guess I gave her a look, because she started laughing and said “What? What was that?” I can’t remember what my response was, but a few seconds later she asked me if I wanted to make out and I was definitely down, so we ended up having a really awesome time. Damn, she’s good. There’s something to be said about girls being with girls.

The thing is that we’re just on the same page. We both feel the same way about monogamy, or the illusions that society has about it. We’re both keen and open to being with different people for different reasons, understand that love isn’t a zero sum game and that there are different connections to be had with different people. And when it’s your best friend in the whole world who you’re having this conversation with, it just makes everything feel better. There’s someone who gets you and always will.

Damn, I love her.

Plus, she’s super excited to hear what happens with me and the new interest that is definitely looking like it’s going somewhere. There are no feelings of possessiveness or oddity. It’s just love. The same sort of love that I have with my other beautiful lady. I’m never going to give these up. It’s a question of finding other people who are open enough to get that there can be more than one person in your life with whom you share connections. But it looks like I’m finding a fair number of them, and now that I’m being even more honest with myself, things are looking good.

I don’t need to be in a “relationship.” I want to be with and spend time with people who make me happy and who I can make happy. Whether it’s sexual, emotional, intellectual, or all three together, the most important part is that you can be honest and open about what you’re doing and not hurt anyone along the way. I’m feeling pretty optimistic about all this. I just hope that the people in my life (who know who they are) feel the same way.

The real forever

I don’t think there are many people out there who can say that their best friend was their best friend when they were five.

Nor can they say that they were their best friend’s first. Well, first with their chosen sex, that is. I even discovered tonight that my best friend’s former boyfriend (who was involved on said night of first girl-on-girl contact) was put out by the fact that “we were too into it” when I think he imagined things going very differently on that fateful drunk and stoned truth-or-dare-playing high school evening.

My best friend and I are like cookies made with the same ingredients, mixed in the same bowl, and even cut with the same little metal shape. But we have different icing. The synchronicity of our lives occasionally gets out of control. Like the fact that we both ended our relationships with our long-term older and serious partners within weeks of one another because of exciting and new people who dropped into our lives but happened to live far far away. We, both late bloomers, “became women” within days of one another although I was in Cape Town and she was in Toronto. Lost our virginity, changed our looks. We both even still sleep with our teddy bears, both creatively named “Teddy” which we have had since before we knew one another.

The only major difference when it comes down to it is that she’s a lesbian and I’m not. Although, you never know. I’m open minded…

I’m at home for a few days, and as always, my priorities lie with seeing her. I met her new lady lover, and it made me happy because she’s happy and once again, things are aligned and the world is as it should be.

She read to me from her Anne of Green Gables diary about the day I left to move back to South Africa when we were all of seven years old. She wrote that she was crying her brains out, that she didn’t know how she would be okay because she really loved me.

But I came back. And she still loves me.

How wonderful is life?

Addiction

Why is it that there are some relationships with some people that just don’t work the way you want them to?

I seem not to know what I’m doing when it comes to the Catalyst. I sent him a message on Valentine’s Day telling him that I can’t do this any more. I avoided going on msn because I didn’t want to talk to him. But today I’m sitting here and I’ve been online and he pops up and gets upset with me because “the only thing he wants is for me to be happy and be myself” and that’s exactly what I can’t be when I’m with him.

Why can’t I be myself with him? Maybe it’s because it was so soon after things with the Big Love that I didn’t really know who I was. I was so swept away with his professions of love that all I wanted was to be this person — this wonderful girl who wasn’t flirtatious, and had eyes only for him; who wasn’t really insecure and didn’t need to have academic conversations to be happy. I think the problem is that I so badly wanted him, and the feeling that he gave (gives) me, that I would do anything to change, really. But he doesn’t want me to change. And I’m no good at sticking up for myself, so when he’d get on my case about being snooty or academic or whatever else he got at me about, it would really go deep and make me feel like it was a true flaw, when it’s just part of who I am.

What really gets me now is that there’s a big part of me that it truly still addicted to him, but then the rest of me knows that it isn’t healthy. If he makes me feel bad, then I should just let go of it. Yet, every time I talk to him I feel as though I need to keep the connection going, that somehow I’d be losing something really huge if I just walk away. Fortunately he gets that I need to deal with this — that I need to figure out how to be myself — and is willing to give me the space that I need. I do still want to see him in April. I think. He’ll be in town for a few days before my meditation course, so depending on what happens in my life between now and then, I’ll at least have the option.

One last time? Or is that really bad?

Fun and Games

As the white and grey and brown and black of the 401 West streaks by my window, I am once again thinking about my relationships, and life, and of course, sex. The last time I did this drive similar thoughts were on my mind, but in a completely different context. I had just split from my Big Love, and the Catalyst had also left town. At that stage I didn’t think that the Catalyst would become an addiction that I’d only really kick four months later. If I can say that I’ve already kicked it. It was before the intense webcam sessions and professions of love. Oh, the internet and my love life.

The speed at which you can connect with someone on the other side of the globe. It boggles my mind that through video interaction you can fall for a person; you can feel like you’re really there together. Really connecting. It’s body language – the human mating ritual. And pure sex. Oh, the speed of online escalation. But I’ll get to that…

There was an article that a friend of mine sent to me in Time that discussed flirting and its different angles. As a purely biological thing, and yes – we are still animals – flirting is a pre-programmed form of human interaction that really acts as a social lubricant. And we all flirt, whether or not we’re aware of, or willing to acknowledge it.

I have a confession to make. I use sexuality as a social tool. I earn a living selling alcohol and desire. And it’s really fun. I have made friends and networked, while running around in cute little outfits and smiling sweetly. I rarely get propositioned, although I get random compliments here and there. Validation? Hell, yeah.

Last Sunday, for instance:

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I just think you’re so fucking cute.” – Tall Paul, one of those people you just know. You know, he knows people you know.

I was also just given twenty bucks and told by an all-American grown-up skater boy that I’d done a really amazing job running around all night. Apparently he had a crush on me and thought that he’d tell me that. Apparently I’m really cute. He wanted to tell me that too.

Cuteness, eh?

I guess the barely butt-covering black and white polka dot skirt combined with my Chucks and a slightly shit-kicking attitude might do the trick.

But this weekend I slipped up. I broke an important rule on Thursday night by giving one of the regulars my phone number. It was Valentine’s Day and I’d been taking shots with the Amazon to get myself through the horror of the evening. I was grumpy having just terminated my relationship with the Catalyst once and for all, and this guy’s attention was better than the other douches I was putting up with. Foolish girl.

There’s a line that needs to be maintained, and once it is crossed, it can become an issue.

Yes, I may have been causing trouble. Telling a guy that your friend told you that your outfit looked slutty, while smiling sweetly, isn’t exactly an ambiguous statement. I shouldn’t have been surprised that he grabbed me and kissed my neck. Hard.

And then he tipped me more than 25%.

Hmm…

So is it worth it? Not for me. Not for money. I don’t have the safety of a bar separating me from my clients. Yes, I can always walk away from a guy and/or give him a threatening “I have a whole team of bouncers behind me” kind of look, but I’d rather not get in that situation at all.

Yet lots of women do go to clubs and swap a little sex for some booze and maybe a few fancy dinners. Breakfast, at least. In regular interaction it seems perfectly acceptable to accept cash for advances. According to the Harper’s Index, 61% of American women in their twenties are willing marry for money. Boost that up to 74% once you <gasp!> turn thirty. Although, of course, it’s money and love we’re all looking for. Isn’t it?

At work there are games that are played to create an illusion of availability. I’m a really physical girl. I dance around a lot. I hug and touch my co-workers, and a lot of my friends come into the club with whom I’m really rather friendly. I touch guys on the arm or back when taking their orders. I have to stand close to people to hear what they want. It gets hot and sweaty in the club. I wear short skirts and little tops and run around with glasses on big trays and ice buckets above my head.

I think that it does get a little confusing for some guys. There’s the fantasy – the show – and the reality, which is that it’s just for fun. Look; don’t touch. They see me interacting with they guys: bosses, co-workers, good friends, and they think they might have a chance. That’s the point. But it doesn’t mean that they can cop a feel, regardless of how sweetly I smile and ambiguously I shrug it off when asked for my number.

Why do I flirt? Does it make me feel powerful? Yes, to an extent. I know that I can get further in life being extra friendly. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not going around exuding fuckability. I don’t think so, at least. (Comments here, boys?) I’m just really friendly, smile sweetly, and often get my way.

Flirtation is undeniably a social lubricant that makes little daily interactions more pleasurable and simpler for both parties. Why even pretend to deny it?

Now to get to the other direction I wanted to take this: the internet. The thing about the way in which I interact with men at the club is that it’s primarily physical. Signals are sent through body language. It’s a dance: a state of ambiguity. They don’t know for certain that I’m interested, but then, they also don’t know that I’m not. But internet interaction changes this; it’s all linguistic. Innuendo comes through word play. Intellect is oh so very attractive, and sometimes you may find yourself connecting with someone you might otherwise have overlooked because they aren’t the type to command a room. Or they seemed stuck-up at first glance. Or they live on the other side of the planet. Who knows who you’ll start talking to more on facebook or gtalk or msn or god knows what actual dating sites you’re visiting.

The thing is that in these situations, because everything is done through words, you can’t draw out the tension as long, and things can quickly escalate. I’m not going to judge this. I don’t think that it’s good or bad – it just is. And oh, is it ever exciting when you start down along the road of steamy messaging, especially when at work or in other equally verboten situations.

I guess this is all to say that I’ve been thinking about all of this a little more lately. In my own life I’m experimenting with various unconventional forms of human interaction. Being open to whatever comes your way is, in my opinion, the most honest way to be. If you’re not hurting anyone and you’re having a good time, who cares if you’re following the conventions of the dating scene? Flirtation is exhilarating. Allowing sex to lie just beneath every interaction with someone can be energizing. I’m all about the chase, anyhow. I was chatting to a friend on gtalk a few days ago describing the situation I’m now in with the Outrageous Director Guy. He said that other people are cattle, and we’re sitting here laughing, understanding what it’s really about. I don’t know that I’d go that far, but I’m certainly not afraid of defying convention. It’s just so much more fun.

Damn yeah.

Unbelievably awesome day.

A proper look

I feel like the things I’ve been writing in here lately have been boring. This is perhaps because I haven’t had much time to just sit and think and write. Although, that can be a good thing sometimes. Being busy has its place.

I got off work early tonight because it a) wasn’t all that busy and b) I feel like shit and my cold is just getting worse. I think I may even have a fever. Boo. Way to go not taking care of yourself. I think it might have to do with the fact that my body knows that I’m going to get a week off, and consequently has decided to shut down on me. Thanks body!

I had a really great evening tonight. Met with Tattoo Guy for a drink and then we went for dinner. As I mentioned earlier, I should have gone to yoga, but I definitely chose the more enjoyable option. It’s such a funny thing. We have so much fun together. It’s great: we amuse one another no end, we talk about absolutely anything, often going for the more inappropriate subject matter, because it’s just more fun. It’s like the filter that I usually have when I’m out in company just comes off completely, and he encourages it. He definitely does not have a filter.

Dinner was awesome. We talked a bit about us. Us hanging out. The fact that both of us are prioritizing our time together because, let’s face it, we just have amazing chemistry. Talking shit, being silly, getting excited about projects and ideas, discussing norms (and breaking them down), saying things inappropriately loudly. I haven’t had this much fun with someone in ages. And it’s not like we need to be drinking or smoking for the boundaries to come down — they’re just not there to start with.

That’s something that I’ve been thinking about quite a lot lately. It’s really awesome to have these interactions and relationships that don’t fit into any normal box. I mean, for a lot of people, what’s going on with CTG and myself is just weird. We really like one another, we want to hang out all the time, we’re really attracted to one another, and yet we aren’t sleeping together, nor does it seem like we’re going to “go out” as such. I mean, I’m not writing off any possibility of anything of that sort happening in the future, but at this point in time, I’m loving just hanging out the way we are. There’s no pressure to be anything other than genuine. No expectations. Just honesty and fun. And I know that a relationship/friendship/whatever you want to call it of this sort would probably freak a lot of people out. I’m sure that the girl he’s seeing (I’m not mentioning names — actually I’m going to start changing the names soon…I forgot about that. Anyhow…), I’m sure that if she saw us together she’d be a little surprised (perturbed?). Not that we’re doing anything. We’re just having fun and being close and being silly. Mmm. It’s great.

And, yes. The thought has entered my mind. There is definitely a voice questioning why things aren’t going further. I guess it’s the whole boy meets girl, boy likes girl, boy and girl do nasty things. Yeah… I don’t know. My friends question it. They all hear me talking about him, getting excited, smiling when I’m telling them about dinner, or hanging out or whatever, and I can hear the skepticism in their voices when I say that we’re just having a lot of fun being friends and that we’re not going to sleep together. Yet. I guess I should add that. I like that ‘yet,’ actually.

I should really get to sleep. I feel bad — I really wanted to talk to the Brit tonight, but I’m home early and I need to get some rest. He’s seeming to be a little weirded out because we haven’t talked much lately, but honestly, we’ve both been really busy, and time-wise, it was getting to be more than I could handle. I just wasn’t sleeping enough. Plus, I don’t want this to get out of control. The last thing I want is any weirdness. I really love talking to him; I love the extra fun stuff too. I also don’t want it to stop. But I can’t do this all the time. I want for us to have our real lives in the real world, and also to connect online from opposite sides of the planet. I don’t want him to get all hung up on me, and I don’t want to put my life on hold for him. It’s just unrealistic. Plus, I think the beauty of our relationship is that things are really open and fun and honest and unlimited and there are no issues. I don’t want jealousy or any of those shitty emotions to creep in. I just want him to have a great time and to have a great time myself and then, when we’re online we can have lots of excellent steamy fun.

I think this is what I mean when I have said in the past that I don’t know that I’ll ever really be a monogamous, heteronormative creature. I just enjoy life and people too much to limit myself to what society deems acceptable. And it’s so much fun!

I’m getting annoyed with titles

I just came all the way out to Loyola campus to return my mini-disk player, only to discover that they closed the equipment depot at 1:15 (it’s past 3pm now). And they’re closed all weekend and I leave town on Sunday. SHIT! I wonder what sort of penalty there is for keeping equipment? I wonder if  the friendly guy who works there will let me have it for the week. I just need to figure out how to contact him. (I already think he’s got a thing for me… what’s wrong with using my charms a little?).

I had this epiphany yesterday that when I go to Toronto I could call the old high school reliable up, and see if he’s game for some play. But then I went on facebook and discovered that he has a girlfriend, and he’s actually no longer as attractive as he was when we were younger. Not to mention that I’ve always found him a little dull; that’s why it never really worked in the first place, and why I unfortunately managed to string the poor boy along for pretty much the entirety of our young lives. He’s so cute and sweet and liked me so much. I was attracted to him, but just didn’t find him that interesting. Shame, really.

Work last night was incredibly painful. It was a McGill Law charity event organized by one of the twins. There were lots of incredibly douchey guys there, and even more unbelievably straight girls. It was the closest thing to a high school dance that I’ve been to since, well… high school. I was really annoyed and bitter after having decided that I would proclaim my singledom and email the Catalyst to cut things off. I don’t know why it made me so cranky, but it did. Having lots of sloppy drunk law students to serve wasn’t exactly my ideal night.

So I got tipsy. Amazon Bartender and I did shots once it got to the point when I felt I was going to have to kill myself. I got silly drunk and got pretty sassy. It was rather amusing giving everyone shit. Big Daddy kept on laughing at me.

I should get to work though. I have to finish off my draft for journalism and email it to the teacher.

Plus I’m debating whether I should go to yoga or go and chill with Tattoo Guy. I know I should do the former, but I want to do the latter. Hmmm…

Kisses

I did my presentation on my zine/typewriters today, and it went rather well…I think. Actually, I have no idea how my teacher grades, so there’s a chance that I did terribly. But I don’t really care.

It’s Valentine’s Day. What a stupid day. It’s the for year anniversary of my only broken bone. No…I didn’t have a horrendous argument which resulted in my passionate and heart-broken lover pushing me down the stairs. I went snowboarding for the first time, caught my front edge and smashed my wrist on the ground. Way to go.

Oh — must run. Off for a boozy lunch.

Our photo shoot last night was amazing and hilarious. Emo and I kept on cracking up, attempting to be sultry and serious, and well, into each other. Apparently we’re way too awkward for that. It also makes me think that if we were ever too hook up (which we won’t), we would probably start laughing while doing it. Well… yeah. Probably.

So the typewriter project is almost finished. I have no idea how the presentation is going to go tomorrow. Hopefully well. I haven’t really planned out what I’m going to talk about as such, but I’m confident that an explanation of what we have done and what I am doing with the zine will come naturally. I’m comfortable in front of our class, so it’s not like there’s anything to stress about. And I’m pretty sure that my teacher will be understanding about the lack of completion in terms of the zine — I will submit everything I have thus far, and explain that a lot of it is still on the way, and that I’ll try to get him a completed version as soon as it’s done. (I think this might sound like I’m convincing myself that it’s okay that I don’t feel like doing any more work.)

I’m sort of done with it now anyhow. I’m really looking forward to Saturday. I have to work on Saturday night, but I don’t actually have anything else to do during the day, and reading week starts on Monday, so I can really just chill out and be happy. Tattoo Guy and I are going to hang out during the day. I can’t actually think of anything I’d like to do more than go for brunch, smoke joints and watch movies for the rest of the day until I have to work. I hope he agrees to it. I don’t see why he wouldn’t.

Hmm… I’m tired. I’m tired and I’m looking forward to spending a week in Toronto with mom and dad and not really going out and hopefully seeing my Oldest and Best Friend and maybe a few other miscellaneous people. Yeah, I have to spend a lot of time memorizing my lines, and I need to finish my screenplay and work on my sound project, but really, that’s all fun stuff anyhow.

Ooh…Emo just got home. We’re going to see a play tonight. Then I think I’ll go to sleep early.

Bleh

Talk about emotional. I actually started crying in yoga this morning at had to stop practicing and just lie down and breathe deeply. There is clearly stress. The Catalyst still has me all riled up. I need to eliminate him from my life but I’m totally addicted to him. How can a person so clearly be like a drug?

That and now he has me questioning myself, which just really pisses me off. I need to stop talking to him. He makes me so mad whenever I do.

I did have a nice evening chilling with Emo and reading about monks and writing my Burma piece though. Also got a phone call from the Big Love, which addressed how much information I am putting out there in the world by writing this blog. Which is totally understandable. Like the nicknames?

Tonight is the night for the bohemian typewriter photo shoot. Emo should be picking up some absinthe. We already have costumes. I’m so excited it’s ridiculous. Tomorrow should also be a great day — recovery brunch followed by an afternoon of typewriting and then a play in the evening. Yes. It’s silly how one thing can throw everything else off kilter so easily: one person’s effect can be so overwhelming. It’s not really his fault either — it’s the way that he makes me feel. He gets so pissed off at me when I tell him that I have a hard time being myself with him, when it’s all he’s wanted from me. He doesn’t seem to understand that when he tells me things about myself that he thinks are bad, that I inevitably take it as a sign of something that I need to change in order for him to like me. As Rose said in her email to me this morning, I need to be single, and the relationships I have going on right now seem to be making me happy. I am single. And I’m (generally) happy.

What more could I ask for in my life right now?