Onward!

May 18th, 2024

More than three years ago, I wrote about my return to school. Now, I write about my exit (even if what I really should be doing is updating the sex toy sales page).

Or, perhaps more accurately, I write about what’s next.

Earlier this year, I started the coursework for sex educator certification with Sexual Health Alliance. The course aligns with AASECT requirements, so completing it, including a final project and supervision hours, will likely set me up to get AASECT certified, too.

In the fall, I will apply to PhD programs, which I have been researching for months and for which I feel (fairly?) prepared.

In the meantime, I need to spearhead some big changes to my site site(s) and brand. I want to start offering classes or webinars, for example. So let me know what you’re interested in!

I think there are more potential audiences than I previously considered, including professionals and students, and I am feeling rather inspired about it all. Ideally, I would be able to help produce information (through research) and spread that information on this blog, among other places (a book, perhaps?!). The former depends on me being accepted into a PhD program, but I’m trying to remain positive!

So send all your positive vibes (ha!) this way, and check back soon!

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I’m Not In Love And That’s Weird

March 22nd, 2017

I’m always in love, aren’t I?

I’m always falling or fallen and pained because of it. There’s always someone. A person. Him. Occasionally Her.

For over half my life. Nearly every day of every year.

I am good at being in love, even if I am not good at being in a relationship.

But I am not in love now.

I haven’t been, not for a year. Give or take (and it usually is take).

I am infatuated with dead celebrities. Attracted to assholes who are terrible in bed. Curious about new people. But I am not in love.

That is okay, of course. I don’t always have to be in love. Sometimes I don’t even want to be in love.

But you can become accustomed to things that you don’t want or need. We do it all the time, even when we shouldn’t. Especially when we shouldn’t.

So when I realized that I wasn’t in love and that this is the longest stretch in my entire adult life where I haven’t been in love, it gave me pause.

Still, it feels good. Somehow. I am not in love, but I know I will yet again fall in love. I can look forward to the good (and brace myself for the bad) of falling in love.

I am something of a fresh slate, ready to be written. Then crossed off and erased. Modified and corrected. Maybe it’ll even be a happy story for a time.

Either way, it’ll be fodder for this blog. For my writing.

I’m not in love now. That’s okay. I’ve got time.

It’ll happen sooner than we all think, anyway.

 

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Bijoux Indiscrets cosmetics for better sex

I Don’t Want to Have Sex with Myself

October 28th, 2015

Well, no, that’s not exactly right. I am a sexual being. I generally enjoy masturbating, even if my orgasms are more perfunctory than anything else, and even if the most I get out of squirting is bragging rights (it doesn’t accompany orgasm).

But it’s not something I’ve ever been good at planning per se. Because I don’t I want to. Unlike with sex, masturbation is almost always something I do at the spur of the moment, and that’s how I like it. If the mood strikes after watching a particularly sexy movie scene or browsing Tumblr, I’ll pause for somewhere between 1 and 10 orgasms, weak wrists and fatigued arm muscles allowing.

I can’t really entice it to happen, however. Sometimes erotica helps, but it doesn’t always. And I don’t necessarily care that much. It’s like I simply can’t be bothered to stop playing Ingress or watching another episode of The Munsters (because it’s almost Halloween!) or playing some random Facebook game that’s not just a time suck but a boring one at that.

It’s disconcerting to care so little for something that defines me so much, but right now it’s something I can “get away with” because of my lack of sexual partner. And even if you argued I am my own partner in this, it’s not something I’m chasing myself down to do. I’ve no doubt this will change eventually, but it’s a weird place to be in right now.

 

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See You Next Week!

July 4th, 2013

Tomorrow starts a 3-hour trek to CONvergence. I’ll be on Twitter if you need me. Please don’t need me.

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lingerie

The First Almost-Love

June 19th, 2012

When I was fourteen years old, I met a boy. We shared a morning gym glass and, somehow, forged a friendship talking about HTML and Web pages, while I tried to ignore how utterly untalented I am at the physical feats that I was expected to do in said gym class. At the time, I was probably in some on-again, off-again online relationship with an ex, but I thought that this boy was nice and sort of cute. I remember IMing with one of my good friends, having one of those typical teenaged girl conversations. Did she know who he was? Did she think he was cute? I was sort of, kind of thinking of seeing where things went, you know, romantically. Oh em gee.

This was really the first time when I considered that I might be someone who someone else could like. That I wasn’t as defective as I’d previously thought. That I could have real life romance, just like in the movies where teenagers in high school had romance!

So, I talked to this boy. He would meet me after every class. We’d hang out during study halls, and he would walk me home from school, as I lived close enough to walk. It was flattering, and then it wasn’t. Then it became too much. I needed space. I wasn’t just being turned off. I was feeling almost frightened, because I was out of my element. Then, one day, he wrote me a note. Now, this isn’t a big deal because he wrote me a note. This is a big deal because, in this note, he pretty much confessed all his love for me.

I was barely ready to say maybe I liked him. I couldn’t handle this love. So I did what any teenaged girl would do. I freaked the fuck out and talked to another guy friend. I asked him could he talk to my newfound stalker and tell him that I needed space? Of course, he said. And he did. I don’t know what was said, but I do know that my new friend didn’t talk to me for several months. In fact, it would take the tragedy of 9/11 to reunite us. He would apologize for coming on too strong, and I would apologize for freaking out and not talking to him like an adult.

For years, I joked about my friend-turned-stalker-turned-friend, and we’re great friends now. He’s one of the few offline friends who know about this blog, the sex toys, the reviewing. But I had no idea that this boy from gym class would become anything that he has been to me over the years. We’re at a point where we could never go back. Because we weren’t able to become romantically involved then, we’ll never be able to now.

I suppose there is a lesson in all of this, but I’m just not sure what it is. Mostly, I’m just glad that I have an interesting story to tell, something to remember and make me think “I was alive.”

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Time and Time Again

October 24th, 2009

I have problems with time. I don’t always prioritize it right and I’m horrible at guessing just how much time something will take. I frequently make informal schedules in my mind, a checklist of things to do today and the next thing I know, it’s tomorrow and I didn’t achieve half of those things because I let time get away. What’s even worse is that, instead of stopping and shelving those projects for another day I simply stay up until they’re all completed; this is why I have absolutely no routine whatsoever. I push myself until I’m so dead tired I cannot accomplish anything more then need to sleep half a day away to fix the effects of it.

Needless to say, sex doesn’t fit into my non-schedule. Just the other day I was thinking how difficult it is for us to have sex at all when my husband works. It’s a bit better now because he has new hours. His 12 hour days are only 12 hours as opposed to the 14 he used to work. He can stay up a little later, now, instead of coming home with just enough time to watch some TV while he eats, check his e-mail, shower and head to bed once more. Now I have a bit more time to get in the mood but it still doesn’t happen nearly as often as we’d both like. I think we’re down to maybe once a week when I’d like to have sex more like 3 or 4 times a week. In fact, I will sit down and think about how we’re not having sex..

And then I realize I’m sitting at the computer or reading in bed or he’s playing video games or we’ve somehow managed to waste a couple hours fighting and then I know that, no matter how shitty his schedule is, we’re equally at fault for not planning to have sex. I know I need to, I just don’t. It’s hard for me to up and go into the bedroom. Even if I want to, I just don’t get turned on at the drop of a hat and I know it’s frustrating for him ’cause he does. But planning can sometimes make it even harder to get where I need to be mentally, especially because I like sex to be spontaneous. And planning itself is hard when you have such a complete lack of schedule like I do.

I suppose it comes down to this – would I rather have spontaneous sex infrequently or deal with having to plan sex so I can have it as much as I’d like (or at least try)? I’m not even sure.

4 Comments


Make love to your long distance lover online

Sorry all!

March 7th, 2009

I know things have been slow here as of late and it’s because I’ve had company the past week or so and it’s just not polite to pull out those dildos and vibrators in front of company (well, in front of most company LOL). I’m also planning a trip next week – hopefully – but I will try to post a few reviews before I leave.

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