Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Tiger, Tiger, Burning Bright...

Oh man, all the world's atwitter with this whole Tiger Woods thing. If you've recently come out from living in a cave amongst the wolves and therefore have no clue what I'm talking about, Tiger has admitted to some extramarital "transgressions" after a series of mishaps starting with a weird car accident and window-bashing by his wife, and culminating in some reality show babe sharing a voicemail where Tiger's allegedly warning her that his wife might be calling her. He issued a pretty long statement about it. Slip on your robe, pour yourself some shiraz and get comfortable, it's a long read. I didn't even read the whole thing but I recall apologies to his wife and harsh words to the media for the lack of privacy, blahblahblah.

I'm like you, I have opinions on this. I'm admittedly surprised, he always seemed wholesome and, well, sort of non-sexual to me (I know he has kids, I guess he's just not my type). But you know what? I'm not a morality-hawker. I mean how can I judge when I once had sex in a port-a-potty?

What? We both lived at home and had nowhere else to go.

Anyway yeah, it's not my place to be wagging my finger at Tiger. It is however, apropos because of recent occurrences in my life. Look, being single and meeting people is hard enough but when unavailable guys are all up in your Kool-Aid it can be disheartening. Case in point: recently I went to a friend's party. A gent tickled my fancy but I played it very nonchalant until I could see, out of the corner of my eye, that he was giving me the once-over. At the self-serve booze station he was refilling his glass so I coincidentally went over there to do the same. "Can I top you off?" he said with a smirk. I don't have to tell you how much I liked that so he filled my glass, then introduced himself. I did the same and went back to chatting with my friends because, you know, you can't seem too eager. Later this fellow and I found ourselves alone together and we chopped it up. He was attractive, interesting, good-looking, artistic and at this party with his brother -- this seemed promising. It also turned out we lived fairly close to one another so when, after many libations, he decided he needed to go home I grabbed the bull by the horns and asked if he'd be willing to share a cab. He was willing. Now I was with this guy flirting and stealing glances for, oh, 4 hours. We talked and laughed, had a great time. It's on the cab ride home that he reveals to me he has a girlfriend...that he lives with.

The fuck?

After some pontification about how "crazy" it was to have experienced a "connection" with me, yadda yadda, he asked if he could kiss me. I then asked, "Oh, does your girlfriend let you kiss other women?" and he said something unintelligible. He moved in and I responded, I'm not gonna lie, which is where I'm now the asshole but my favorite part after the kiss, when I expressed annoyance at the situation, is where he replied, "Hey, we're both adults".

Such a convenient excuse whilst doing some shady shit.

So ok, this guy wasn't married, and it was just a kiss (with tongue, nice and slow, the way I like it). That's not a full-on affair. Of course a week later at, get this, a memorial service a much older married man enjoyed my chat with him (about himself) so much that  he added me on Facebook. And then he suggested we get together for coffee to discuss the memorial further. Huh? I ignored the invitation. But I'm perplexed by those who are tied down yet in pursuit of things elsewhere, or who at least allow themselves to play with fire. I'm genuinely single and looking for something real, what's in it for me to chase after someone who already has somebody? I mean maybe you won't eat all my tortilla chips and use up all my toilet paper since you have someone to go home to I guess but I mean, what else do I get? I guess with Tiger there's some financial incentive since he's richer than God, and mistresses all want to be put up in some swank Vegas lovenest perfect for secret fucking on the bearskin rug, but does that really happen? I once played around with a guy who said he was on the outs with his girlfriend and the extent of our fumblings was beneath some overpass in San Francisco where he got off but I didn't. And it was all cold that night, I just wanted him to hurry up and finish dammit. I bet even a bunch of the rich guys roll like that. They can't  leave paper trails and you know their wives are all up in their finances. Tiger's wife probably has an Excel spreadsheet full of pivot tables and macros.

Another thing I think about is this: is anyone really happy after having been with someone for years and years, with kids and all that? Over the summer my therapist basically told me I had some kind of fear of commitment which is why I keep dating non-committal guys. Self-sabotage. It's an interesting theory and when I really dig deep, I know I have a lot of concerns: what if I start digging someone else? what if he starts digging someone else? do you really love someone forever? can I handle children? I mean marriage is supposed to be for the rest of your life. Always. Forever. Til death do you part. As in, you have to die in order to be done with this relationship. Granted, I know this isn't literal but I mean, you hope people enter into marriage understanding the gravity of this move. I don't think they do, or maybe to be married and a parent is so ingrained in our culture as something people must do that the reasoning behind it is completely lost. Perhaps the greatest irony in all this is that we want to protect the sanctity of marriage so much that we won't allow those of the same sex to do it. Why does this make sense? So I see infidelities among people I know, people whom I thought  were happy and had their relationships all figured out, and I wonder how someone as utterly lusty, fickle, easily-annoyed and imperfect as I am can do it.

If Tiger can't do it, can anyone?

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

On The Brain

Sexuality. I'm thinking about it a lot. I know, right? Duhh!!!

:)

Check out this article from the Guardian in the UK. I guess it's their Black History Month but rarely (never?) are the notable black people in history acknowledged as LGBT when applicable. So the author wonders, why don't the two overlap a little better? It's a fair question but again, black folks don't discuss sexuality much.

Sigh.

So yes, sex is on the brain. I posted recently about my feelings for a woman, so that's on the brain. To follow-up on that, things will remain on a friendship level with me and her which of course I'm fine with but, I gotta level with ya...it's knocked me off-guard a little bit. But then I also think the last thing I should do is overthink it. I want to be attracted to whomever I'm attracted to and that's that. And really, the issue here is about the friendship. And it's all resolved.

Sigh again.

My hot streak has mellowed a bit which is likely for the best. I'm back to fucking myself, like, a lot. I think it's Gerard Butler's fault too. He's promoting his new movie and is therefor everywhere, and I looooooove him. Have we talked about this? I think I wrote something about naming my Hitachi after him.




So damn delicious.

I should not have brought this up while I'm at work.

Read the article I linked to above, it's pretty interesting. Thoughts and opinions, as usual, are welcome!

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

On A Roll

Two posts in one week?? Alert the media! But seriously, a friend posted this link on Facebook: Why Women Have Sex
I'm reading it now, do the same when time allows.

Monday, October 5, 2009

Pleasantly Surprised

I’m introspective at present, lots on my mind. One thing I’ve been thinking about is labels, the way we always have to fit into categories. Sometimes we subject ourselves to this and sometimes we feel obligated to explain ourselves to others in this way. Each of us is multi-faceted and complex but despite these facts we’re still reduced to race/age/gender/marital status/SSN/profession/subculture/hobby, etc.

In recent years I’ve become more comfortable with the flexible nature of sexuality but I can be honest, I wasn’t always so understanding. Like literally I didn’t understand. I thought of things in terms of straight, gay, bi, male, female, maybe transvestite and absolutely drag queen. My world years ago didn’t include transpeople or the genderqueer or bois and now it does. I’m lucky for it. I’m blessed to have grown up in an environment that was pretty liberal and open even with its conservatism. We’ve talked about this before: sex in an African-American household. There’s much opportunity (and need) for black people to open up and while I wasn’t swinging from chandeliers by any means, my parents were very “Live and Let Live” for the most part. The key is to at least have your mind be open even if your actions and maybe your heart are not.

An interesting thing has happened to me recently. I’ve become rather deeply attracted to a woman. I’m not setting the world on fire with this statement I realize because a) the world is rather desensitized thanks to Angelina Jolie, Tila Tequila and extensive girl-on-girl scenes in porn and b) some rather stereotypically beliefs (fantasies) that all women have an inner lesbian or bi “tendency”. Straight men are attracted to and as such unthreatened by such declarations and that’s fine, I didn’t say it for anyone but me and, well, you as you are so kind to be interested in my journey…as sporadic as it may be. But I digress.

So I have feelings for this woman, a really good friend, and I’m reeling a little bit. I love women as the beautiful creatures they are and as I was raised by a feminist I am loyal to a fault when it comes to my friendships with women. I was intimate with a woman and her boyfriend like ten years ago and I definitely crushed, but she had a boyfriend and I was 24 and fickle and I’d just had a threesome OMG OMG, so that’s a short story. This one’s a little different and I’m analyzing it…maybe overanalyzing. I’m reminding myself of my labels – I’m straight, I like men, I’m lonely, I’m broken-hearted, I’m confused—things that really don’t apply. If I have to define myself yes, I am straight, but why do I even have to do that at all? What is it I’m confused about? I’ve been attracted to millions of people before this one. Why do I have to question caring for a woman when all I should be doing is wrapping myself in pleasant thoughts about a person? Is all this justification for me, or is it to present a particular image to her, or is it for other people?

I don’t know.

Having said this, I am not in a romantic relationship with her. To be honest our friendship is the largest obstacle (if you want to call it that) and at the moment we’ve decided not to step over the line. Again. How it all happened to begin with was unplanned, accidental, and really quite incredible. I’m ok with being back on the market and have regained my mojo to a degree but I’ve told you I can do without the casual lays. It’s quite jarring, then, to have a moment with someone you already care about, someone who knows you pretty well because of how long you’ve been friends and it’s slow, gorgeous and devastatingly sexy. I love the flirtations, the sly looks in public, the soft skin, the subtle apple-scented lotion she uses. I don’t pretend to know the outcome or even what I want here but I want my mind and heart to be open either way and I want to just follow it. From a philosophical standpoint I wish the world didn't give a shit about who's loving whom, didn't make people feel odd for not fitting in one or two "acceptible" categories. If I understand that sexuality is flexible, that people should go with the flow, then I should live it. Ultimately, isn't this just about a connection between 2 people?

I’m very fortunate indeed.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Making Up for Lost Time

I needed to write about sex today.

I've been calling myself a hedonist for years but it occurred to me that I don't know the true definition of the word. Here it is according to dictionary.com:

1. the doctrine that pleasure or happiness is the highest good.
2. devotion to pleasure as a way of life: The later Roman emperors were notorious for their hedonism.


It seems I was more correct in my self-assessment than originally thought.

I've documented a little about the end of my relationship and frankly, prose about my ex no longer has a place here. It's been six months, fuck him (or not. ever. again.). It took about 4 months for me to feel less sad, 4 and a half months for me to go out on a date and be kissed, and 5 months to...

Wait, I'm getting ahead of myself.

A lady like me takes breakups as a state of the union, a tune-up, a life renovation. I have long breaks between relationships even while, at the longest, I've never gone more than 6 months without sex. I am a monagamist and a romantic, but I'm also a hedonist. Love don't come quickly, but lust sometimes does. But also I'm getting older so the appeal of a casual romp has lessened over time because a) I don't always feel like cleaning my apartment, b) I have a feline that hates anyone who walks in the door and as such, is prone to loud meowing and scratching my couch when I have company, and c) casual fucks simply don't make me come. They don't. It's a fact. Call is psychological, call it a cruel fate handed down upon me by the Lord Himself, or call it a preference for the vulnerability and freedom that comes with a loving relationship.

Yet at the same time when I get a kiss, just one kiss, a slow hot makeout at the end of a date, the floodgates (mm-hmm) open. I find myself craving physical contact again. But it's hard to feel predatory when I prefer to be physical with a boyfriend. The two don't always align, getting a boyfriend takes time and desire and energy. Getting sex, well, that takes pointing a finger. I am a hetero girl after all.

I am a hedonist. I live a life full of hedonism. I love beer. I love going out to dinner. I love pretty clothes, perfumes, high heels. And I love sex. So by month 4 I'd felt less sad, by month 4 and a half I'd been kissed whilst on a date, and by month 5 I'd brought home a beautiful actor/screenwriter I'd met at a party who delivered cunnilingus in the back of a taxi. In month 6 it was a 24-year-old male model from Manchester, England who exclaimed, "You dirty bastard!" as he came. I'm in month 7 and last night it was me and a friend.

And her lover.

And his best friend.

I'm sorry to have stayed away so long, I'll do my best to make it up to you...and me.

xoxo, k

Thursday, June 4, 2009

A Quickie: WTF Have I Been Up To?

it's been awhile. it's been too much. i've neglected KayDee Spot because of work and travel and another blog and dealing with personal things. i am not having sex--this sentence makes me laugh because it's not a very good excuse, i wasn't so good about writing here regularly when i was having sex, haha! but as previously written i've undergone a lot of changes and my head and heart are in the zone...healing.

but none of this means i'm unhappy!

in fact all sorts of interesting things have happened in non-sexual, non-relationship arenas, the greatest being this: i am now a freelance copywriter for my lovely friends at Babeland -- believe it! writing professionally is a first for me and it's proving to be a significant challenge (even though i've been doing this for exactly 3 days!). i couldn't be more thrilled. so they'll pay me as i go, we shall see how it goes, but i love being in a place where i'm recognizing my blessings.

at the end of the day, KayDee is one lucky biotch.

Monday, March 30, 2009

The (Relatively) Young and the Fuckless

I’m readjusting to single life. It’s been difficult simply because I got my heart broken, but don’t cry for KayDee. I’ve been approaching this whole thing very healthily: eating lots of veggies versus drinking whole bottles of wine at a time, hanging out with friends versus curling up in a ball on my bed and watching The Joy Luck Club over and over again, writing here and there and everywhere versus not. I’m dealing with a lot of emotions right now but I’m doing it as best I can, and at least if I bump into my ex on the street I’ll be fit and healthy albeit nauseous and horrified.

Having said all of this, it has occurred to me that it will be quite some time before I have sex again. I mean it’s already been about 7 weeks (we broke up 5 weeks ago—who knew the last time would actually be the last time?) and I’ve been hitting Hitachi like a vibrating crackpipe. I once did the math and confirmed that since being deflowered I've never gone more than 6 months without sex. At the rate I'm going I'll be breaking that record in 2009. It also doesn’t help that I work with 2 married women who’ve become moms in the last year and a 3rd engaged woman who’s pregnant with her first. A snippet of today’s avoided conversation:

“How were we doing it when we conceived? Ummm, I think he was on top.”
“My doctor told us after our daughter was born that we shouldn’t have sex for 6 weeks and we were like, ‘fuck that’!”
Six weeks?? Oh me and my fiancĂ© couldn’t go that long!”

Then it occurred to me that it’s been longer than 6 weeks for me, and once again I wondered if taking on a lover was what I needed to do. Nothing serious, just someone painfully cute, possibly in his 20s, dumb as a box of rocks and very oral. I wondered how I’d go by finding such a gem and I have consulted with my pals. Some have suggested I search among my single male friends but I dunno, isn’t there a saying about not fucking where you eat? I just don’t want to jack up the friend zone. So then that leaves total strangers as the option and the only way to meet them in this crazy town is in a bar or via Craigslist. I’m not into getting drunk right now. And Craigslist, well, that’s how me and my ex met. So the moral of the story is “KayDee isn’t feelin’ it.”

Plus, this blog (sent to me by a reader of my blog—thank you S!) has put fear in me. Here's the gist (note: this is heterocentric, mm-kay?):

In a study to be published later this year by W.W. Norton in the book Families as They Really Are, researchers found that college women have orgasms half as often as men on repeat hookups (meaning hooking up more than twice) and only a third of the time in first-time hookups. And they concluded that a lack of sexual reciprocity could be a key reason for this orgasm gap.


But wait, there's more:

Their research confirms that the orgasm gap is widespread among young people in both casual hookups and relationships. Surveying 12,925 undergraduates from 17 universities, researchers examined four sexual contexts—a first hookup, one to two previous hookups, three or more previous hookups, and a relationship—and found that in all cases, men were twice as likely to orgasm. That gap is far wider in hookup situations than in relationships. In the context of relationships, women orgasm about 80% as often as men.


But here's the best part:

England’s study found that women give oral sex to their male partners in all contexts—from casual hookups to relationships—at higher rates than men do, sometimes dramatically higher. The study’s anecdotal evidence backs this up.

In casual hookups it’s much worse—during the first few times they hook up with a man, women are far more likely to give him oral sex than to receive it. Men receive oral sex about 80% of the time in first-time hookups, whereas women receive it less than half the time. This discrepancy goes a long way toward explaining the orgasm gap, according to the study’s authors. In 1976, the Hite Report on Female Sexuality empirically established a fact that’s been confirmed by subsequent studies in the years since: Many women need oral sex, along with intercourse, to reach orgasm.


Now look, I know I don't fall into the category of "young people" but dude, come on. At this point maybe all I want is an eager NYU student, this shit is disheartening! Seriously though, this disappoints me and it's because I know it's the truth for some of you guys longer in the tooth. In my mind what is the point in hooking up if I'm not going to get some joy out of the situation? It's times like that when the person in question goes from being the hot naked guy in my bed to someone who prevents me from hogging all the covers. Thanks but no thanks.

More so than that though, this little wannabe-smut writer prefers fucking so much more when she loves the idiot.

Damn.