Never Accidental

How to Hurt Someone or Girl-on-Girl Violence, a different perspective

2011-03-06T22:30:00.000-08:00

What I am about to admit is horribly shameful to me. I am embarrassed by it, and I do not feel like it represents me as a person well except to that it is an exception to prove my general rules of functioning.

There is a person whom I truly hate. Now, we often say that we hate someone. "She's so perfect. God, I hate her." How many of us have screamed at a parent or partner in a time of intense argument, "I hate you!"? But before this, I had never hated someone in the way that I hate this person. This is a person who, when I see her, my heart beats faster, my palms sweat, I feel short of breath, and all my brain can do is scream at me, "Run, run, run, get away!" The reasons behind my hatred of her are personal and not really worth going into here, but for the purposes of this post, it is important to note that what set off this trend into hatred was a sexual incident for which she was not entirely responsible that ended up hurting me very much. The fact that her sexuality is at the root cause of this, though, is what leads me into a bit of self doubt and self shame over my hatred of her.

Okay, to back up for one second, one of the things I will talk about endlessly is slut-shaming and how absolutely horrible it is. For those who don't know, slut shaming is a type of violence in which someone's (usually a girl's) reputation is ruined because of rumors (true or false) that are spread about her sexual activity. Usually the rumors spread are not that she is doing anything particularly deviant. Typically, it's simply a rumor that she is having sex. Because good girls don't have sex, this is meant to be shaming and ruining. The unfortunate thing is, this kind of violence is usually perpetrated by women on women (well, usually girls on girls). It needs to stop because, as Ms. Norbury (Tina Fey) says in Mean Girls, "You all have got to stop calling each other sluts and whores. It just makes it okay for guys to call you sluts and whores." That is, not only do we perpetuate the idea that sex is shameful by slut-shaming, we also make it more okay for guys to hold women to a double standard.

Anyway, so I worry that I am slut shaming. I worry that the reason that I hate this girl is because I am frightened or threatened by her sexuality. I don't think that's the case partly because I'm not easily threatened by others' sexuality as my sexuality is pretty strong, partly because the hatred really has developed due to other personal issues that have arisen between us. But what if I am? What if I am an unconscious slut shamer? I don't know if I could deal with that.

Birth Control

2011-02-16T23:13:00.000-08:00

Okay, this may be a really, really boring for most of you out there with out an excessive x chromosome, but I am really shocked at how little women around me know about birth control options. I know that this is something that is not talked about nearly enough in school, and it's not the easiest thing to research on the internets, but it's important. I mean, the dispersal of birth control is key in feminism. It is how women have been able to delay pregnancy in order to have careers. It's kept women from being under the thumb of their husbands. It's still an important issue. One of the major ways that abusive men* keep control over their victims is through trapping them with children. This can be especially pernicious as many domestic violence shelters do not permit boys over the age of 11. Birth control sabotage is another method of abuse being used by abusers which serves to take away power (usually from the woman) by means of deception. Thus it is important for both men and women to understand different ways that they can prevent pregnancy.

So I propose here to give you a brief summary of those birth control options available to you. This is by no means comprehensive nor is it free of bias, but I think it could be useful for people who are confused about all the different options out there.

Junior Varsity

These are the birth control methods that you've probably heard of/used before. They are common for a reason; they tend to be minimally invasive, simple to use, effective, and generally pretty low risk. So we'll start at the very beginning:

Abstinence: This is the #1 most effective form of birth control if used consistently and properly. Abstinence means many different things to many different people. It could mean refraining from penis-in-vagina intercourse, any penetrative intercourse, oral sex, manual sex, kissing...it's up to you. The best way to prevent pregnancy though is to not allow semen to come near vaginas. So, not having vaginal intercourse is a really good place to start. Remember, though, abstinence is really hard to stick to, and, like all forms of birth control, it only works when used consistently and correctly! See Kidder Kaper's great comic on the benefits of abstinence for more info!

Barrier Methods: These include our friend the condom. Barrier methods work to prevent pregnancy by keeping sperm from getting to the egg by way of a physical barrier. Barrier methods are also the only methods of birth control that can prevent the transmission of HIV and other Sexually Transmitted Infections (STIs). The most common barrier method is the condom which usually refers to the male condom. Most condoms are latex, but you can get polyurethane condoms if you have a latex sensitivity. Lamb skin condoms also exist, but they are generally not effective in preventing STI transmission. The most awesome part about condoms is that there are so many different kinds: studded, ribbed, lubricated (more on this later), small, large, extra large, colored, flavored, thin, thick...the list goes on. The trick is to find the condom that feels good to you! You don't want one that's too big though or too little as this can increase the chances of failure. Personally, I like the Beyond Seven line. One thing to be careful of in condoms is that some use the spermicide Nonoxynol 9 which used to be thought to prevent HIV infection. While this chemical does kill this virus, it also can be highly irritating and actually increase the possibility of transmission of other STIs.

Other barrier methods include the female condom, cervical cap, diaphragm, and cervical sponge. I listed these in decreasing order of effectiveness in preventing pregnancy and STI transmission. However, they still all work pretty well. These methods are particularly nice because they allow the woman to have control over her birth control options rather than depending upon the man to use a condom. The downside is that some women are a little grossed out by having to put something into their vaginas before sex. This has never squicked me in any way, but I have a very special relationship with my vagina so... Also, note that the diaphragm and cervical cap must be used with spermicidal gel!

Birth Control Pills: or The Pill as many call it. Of course, there is more than one type of pill. In fact, there are SO MANY kinds of birth control pills, it is awe inspiring. Generally, though, these can be divided into three basic types -- triphasic combination pills, monophasic combination pills, and progesterone-only pills.

I know, I know, those are big sciencey words that are not very reader friendly but let's break it down further. So you either have a progesterone-only pill which, surprise surprise, only contains progesterone, or you have a combination pill which contains a combination of progesterone and estrogen. Within the combination pills you either have a pill that is triphasic, meaning that there are three different ratios of estrogen to progesterone for each of the three weeks of active pills, or monophasic meaning all the pills have an identical ratio of estrogen to progesterone in all three weeks of active pills.

So what's the difference? Well, mostly it's a matter of what feels right to your body. Combination pills are slightly more effective at preventing pregnancy than are progesterone-only pills, and they are not quite as finicky when it comes to taking the pill at exactly the same time every day. However, estrogen can have some nasty effects like raising the chance of forming blood clots. This generally isn't a concern unless you have a genetic propensity toword clotting, you're over 30, or you are a smoker.

The differences between monophasic and triphasic methods are a lot more subtle. When I was taking the pill, I really enjoyed monophasics because they really dampened my hormonally related mood swings. Also you can use monophasics continuously and never have periods. It's so civilized. They are also cheaper, but just barely. Triphasics have less breakthrough bleeding and sometimes are more effective in preventing things like cramps and acne.

Other Hormonal Methods: There are other hormonal methods, most famously the NuvaRing, that function similarly to combination pills, but do not require the woman to take the pill every day. The NuvaRing is a small ring that you put in your vagina that stays there for three weeks. You then leave it out for a week, have your period, and replace it with a new one the next week. You can remove it for a few hours at a time to have sex or other things! It's actually a pretty nifty device for a number of reasons. I know a bunch of lesbians who use it to align their menstrual cycles (as pregnancy is obviously not a risk...) and it also can reduce cramping, improve acne, and cause lighter periods. Good things all around. Other hormonal methods include the shot which functions much like birth control pills, but you only need to get one every three months, and Implanon which are small implants in your skin that slowly release hormones.

Varsity:

These methods of birth control are a little less common, but often more effective than the JV methods. They frequently take the factor of human error out of the equation. These are often more invasive, more expensive, or slightly higher risk, though, and are therefore not right for everyone.

IUDs: These little babies get such a bad rap and it is terribly unfortunate. In fact, this is my current method of birth control and I just ADORE it. So the IUD has a long and somewhat spotty history. In the 1970s the Dakon Shield was widely used and, due to it's somewhat porous string, caused some women to get uterine infections which left them sterile. Modern IUDs, however, are free from this problem, and they are a great option for women who have no desire to become pregnant within the next 5 - 10 years.

IUD stands for Intrauterine Device which is exactly what it sounds like. It is a small T-shaped device made of either plastic or copper that is inserted by a gynecologist into your uterus. It is held in place near the top of the uterus by the arms of the T. From the bottom of the T runs a string made of non-porous material that runs out of the cervix. Women with an IUD should check the string monthly to make sure that the IUD is still in place. Honestly, though, I have never been able to feel the string of my IUD, and my gyno said that it's really nothing to worry about.

There are two types of IUDs: copper IUDs and hormonal IUDs. In the United States the copper IUD is marketed as the Paraguard and the hormonal one as Mirena. There are, as always, pluses and minuses to each method. An advantage of the Paraguard is that there are no hormones involved which is great for women who don't like the idea of tricking their bodies into thinking that they are pregnant. Essentially, this IUD makes your body believe that the uterus is injured and thus not a suitable place for baby making. Side effects of the Paraguard are heavy bleeding and cramping, though usually this subsides within a few months. This system also lasts for 10 years, though it is reversible at any time!

The Mirena is a plastic IUD that releases small amounts of progesterone. Since it doesn't contain estrogen, this system, unlike combination pills, does not increase the risk for blood clots. The Mirena, unlike the Paraguard, does not increase bleeding or cramping. In fact, many women stop having periods while using the Mirena. (Again, this is SOOO CIVILIZED!) The levels of hormone released by Mirena are much lower than those seen even in low dose progesterone pills, but it is still present. A downside of Mirena is that if you do contract an STI (and remember this does NOT protect against STIs), you are much more likely to develop Pelvic Inflammatory Disease if you are using the Mirena. This is a disease that you Do Not Want. So, if you do engage in high risk sexual activity, this may not be the method for you.

The major downsides to IUDs are cost and discomfort. If uninsured, IUD insertion can cost upwards of $1,000, though most insurance does cover this at least to a certain extent. The actual insertion of the IUD can be rather uncomfortable especially if you have never had any babies. You see, the cervix has to be dilated in order to shove the damn thing up into the uterus. For me, it felt like the worst menstrual cramps of my life for about a day, but advil really took the edge off. My friend had cramping for a couple weeks. It's really a crap shoot. Also, some women can experience extensive bleeding for up to a month following insertion. Usually it's not a lot of blood, but it's persistent. Buy panty liners before hand!

Tubal Ligation/Vasectomy/Hysterectomy: If you KNOW that you never want to have your own children and you absolutely want to guarantee that you never become pregnant, one of these permanent surgical methods of pregnancy prevention may be for you. These procedures are invasive and surgical, and they are permanent. So if you frequently change your mind about things like your college major, favorite color, or boyfriend, this may not be the right option right now. Or it may be. I know people who are much more sure about their desires to never be parents than they are about their love of purple. I don't have a ton to say about these methods because most people my age don't get them. In fact, many doctors absolutely will not perform these surgeries on young adults because they worry that their patients may someday change their minds. If you are certain, however, there are doctors who will help you out.

The Future:

The VSF would be so pissed at me if I did not include in here mention of future directions in birth control. Perhaps most notable is the possibility of a birth control pill for men that would essentially disable sperm and prevent them from being able to fertilize eggs. Other methods simply prevent the testes from making sperm. These advances are wonderful as they provide non-barrier methods that are male controlled meaning that men can hold much more responsibility in preventing unwanted pregnancies.

I hope that was fun and educational for all! A final note (and a somewhat political one at that.) I want to point out that they same people who are trying to take away a woman's right to choose are also trying to discourage information like this from being taught in public schools. Comprehensive knowledge about sexual health and particularly about methods of birth control is the best way to prevent unwanted pregnancies. So, if you really want to reduce the number of abortions in this world, then maybe you should promote comprehensive sex education.

*Of course NEVER to imply that all abusers are men. Not even all heterosexual abusers are men.

Girl, I fucked your boyfriend

2011-02-02T19:38:00.000-08:00

Well, actually I fucked my boyfriend.

"But Persephone," I hear you cry, "Don't you do that all the time?"

Ah, but my dear friends, we seem to be encountering a problem of terminology. Allow me to elucidate this along with some other key points in...Persephone Mela's Guide to Sex Terminology That Leaves Very Little to the Imagination.

Making out - kissing for an extended period of time
Fucking - penetrative intercourse. When referring to x fucking y, x is doing the penetrating.
Sex - That nebulous realm between making out and fucking. May include: oral sex, fingering, frottage, genital massage, nibbling on nipples, etc.
Hooking up - engaging in some combination of making out, sex, and/or fucking.

So you see, while the VSF and I very frequently engage in fucking. Up until now, he has been fucking me. Two nights ago, the roles reversed, and it was AWESOME.

First of all, I have a very active imagination. So when I strap on my, albeit petite, cock, it instantly becomes a part of my body to me. So, having it get all sorts of attention really made me quite happy. Unfortunately, the VSF was not quite as thrilled with my anthropomorphization of a hunk of silicone shaped like a cock. Oh well.

Downside: Well, I don't have the kind of experience with a penis as men who are born with them do. So I had a bit of a coordination problem, and it kept popping out. I think some of this will get better with practice. I also think that there's only so much you can do without nerve endings in the blasted thing.

But wow. I fucked my boyfriend. And he wouldn't let me touch him for like three minutes after he came. He was in such a daze. It was awesome. A+ would try again.

Abuse

2011-01-31T21:10:00.000-08:00

The VSF is in right in front of me, sitting on the ground, pondering how to construct this. What this means is that this blog post might seem strangely disjointed because it seems that he is going to want me to get up every few seconds to help him measure things on my body. This is love.

Anyway, I've been meaning to write this entry for a while because it is a bunch of meanderings that have been playing around in my mind, but I haven't really been sure how to structure it. So I'm just going to go for it and see what happens. Abuse. It's not happy. In fact, it may very well be the exact opposite of happy. Recently, though, I've come into some very coincidental encounters with it. One of my best friends is still reeling from a horribly abusive relationship/friendship, my officemate encountered a man showing all the warning signs for an abusive personality, and the VSF has been communicating with a penpal who is dealing with the consequences of recently getting out of an abusive situation.

I think the hardest thing for me is to wrap my head around what constitutes abuse. All explanations have really left me thinking that it is far too nebulous a thing to really describe. I think, however, that that is the truth and that the truth of that is what makes abuse so pernicious. It is hard to point at some relationship and say assuredly "That is abuse. You should leave." Certainly we can when the victim comes away from fights with a bloody lip or a black eye. But can we when she is simply becoming more and more withdrawn, quieter and quieter. Is the girlfriend simply being possessive or is she being manipulative? Is the boyfriend just tired, or does he yell at his boyfriend like this every time he gets frustrated? Is that girl critical or is she demeaning? If it is so easy for those of us outside of abusive relationships to be confused about abuse, then how can we expect victims to know definitively that their situation is untenable and to leave?

Also there's the issue of inconsistency. No abuser is an abuser 24/7. Sometimes he'll be the most wonderful and supportive person the world has ever seen. So what proportion constitutes abuse? 60/40? 70/30? How much can we write off as simply a bad day?

I don't know what got me on such a down click that I felt the need to write this, but the thoughts have been playing around in my head, and I just don't know the answers. I've read a lot, and there are some great resources out there. I've worked with the YWCA (primarily rape crisis, but there is some focus on relationship abuse.) I've been exposed to this stuff. I've lived some of this, but I still don't know how to explain it to people. That troubles me immensely. Look, people, if any of you think you might be in an abusive relationship, if any of you KNOW that you ARE in an abusive relationship, I only want you to do one thing (and I promise it's not "just leave"). I want you to know that it is not your fault that you are being abused, it's not your fault that you "fell for it," and that there are people out there who realize that it is much harder than even we know to recognize signs of abuse and avoid it.

Okay, I promise next time I'll write about something sexy. Like what we're gonna do with that rope sling the VSF is tying together. Or maybe about boobs. Everyone likes boobs right?

Never again but always

2011-01-26T21:56:00.000-08:00

I will (hopefully) never again be fat. I will, however, always be a chubby girl no matter how not-chubby I get. I know that the internets are filled with story after story of fat people losing weight, but I think mine is unique (don't we all.) I guess its primary difference is that I wasn't always fat. I gained a lot of weight and then I lost it. So the real trauma was the weight gain rather than the weight loss or process therein.

So, I have never been a skinny girl. I tried to be a ballerina, but that doesn't work so well for girls with boobs and hips. The whole tall thing wasn't working for me so well either. Anyway, I always felt that I was big when in reality I was pretty average sized. The fact that my mom weighs 100 pounds on a heavy day doesn't help with the whole comparison thing.

Anyway, at some point, I became really okay with my body. This had to do with a number of circumstances: I quit ballet, left home, was getting laid with quite a bit of regularity, and was living a much more active lifestyle. Again, I wasn't skinny, but I was slender, and I was fit. Then depression happened.

It happened normally enough -- a bad breakup that I never really got over. First I lost about five pounds. Then my parents insisted that I go see a psychiatrist who put me on this medication that in addition to turning me into a zombie and giving me suicidal compulsions, also caused me to gain about 20 pounds over the course of 3 months. By the end of it, I looked like this:

Now, it's not horrible, but I did not feel good. I did not like myself. I was so angry at my lack of self control and my inability to motivate myself to get active and just get rid of those pounds. Never mind that I was depressed enough that I couldn't motivate myself to get to class much less exercise. Of course, at this point I was also in an inherently sex negative relationship with a Christian virgin so I wasn't even burning the calories I would typically burn with rampant fucking. Life, in short was hard.

Then I dumped the Christian, started dating someone who would actually fuck me, stopped being depressed, got on some good medications (with a different psychiatrist), and went to Italy where I was walking to and from school every day. I then came back to the states, got depressed again, got dumped by the new boyfriend, and lost more weight through the not-so-healthy technique that I refer to as stress not-eating. All-in-all I lost about 30 pounds and ended up looking more like this:

The thing is, I don't feel thin. I still often feel fat and undesirable. In comparison, when I actually was fat, I often felt incredibly sexy and lovely. I guess the moral is...your weight does not define you or your sexiness. At the same time, your health does. I feel gross when I am unhealthy, when I eat a bunch of junk food, which my uterus is trying to forcibly expel itself from my body. When I feel sexy, I'm usually being healthy, eating well, working out. So be healthy people. Which is my way of saying...BE SEXY.

Probably why I don't update my blog

2011-01-25T22:02:00.000-08:00

Okay, okay, okay. I know it's been way too long. I'm a horrible blog-mistress. The punishment is one hundred floggings. No. Really. Please. Bring it on. But seriously, guys, I'm sorry that I've been so remiss. I want to provide you with sexy stories, thoughtful insights, and general musings on life, but sometimes life gets in the way, and sometimes I'm really lazy. Actually, it's mostly that second point...

You see, in case you haven't realized it yet, I'm rather immature. I mean, I have my mature moments. I'm responsible, but maturity has never been my strong point. I still talk in baby voices, I hate cleaning, and sometimes when I get angry I cry and I scream. It's a wonder that I ever get laid. Anyway, it has taken the VSF nagging, pleading, and now threatening me to get me to write this. Those of you that know him, get him something nice. Like chocolate. Or a copious amount of Tenga products.

In realizing what a large part the VSF plays in my productivity and usefulness as a Real Live Adult©, I also realized that I haven't spoken much about our relationship. Now, I don't want this to turn into a 15 year old's "OH MY GOD MY BOYFRIEND IS SOOOO HOTTTT" blog. So I think I've restrained myself, but I think we have our moments. Well, I have my moments and he thoughtfully puts up with them.

For example, this afternoon the VSF decided to clean house a bit. You see, he doesn't work for pay, so he does wonderful things like clean our house. So he tidied up the room and just threw all of my clothes that were littering the floor onto the bed. I got into the bedroom, saw this, turned to him and said, "What am I supposed to do with this?"
"Put it away," he said. "What else would you do with it?"
"I dunno...put it on the floor."
He started reaching for my nipples (he's a twister) so I set about doing the adult thing, and began putting clothes into drawers. When I made it to the extra sheets that he had also put on the bed, I held them up and said, "Where should I put these? We put the other sheets on the bed."
"Well, dear, where did the other sheets come from?"
"The closet." So I walked over to the closet and put the extra sheets into his Box o' Stuff and walked away.
"Did you just put the sheets in my box?"
"No."
"You DID."
I ran over to the closet blocking him from observing the evidence, "No, just let me do, um, stuff in here for a second. Don't look."
"You are a child! I am going to have to start withholding sex from you until you do your chores."
"But I don't LIKE chores."
"Case in point."

Now, obviously he could never actually withhold sex from me because, well, who are we kidding? But he does do a good job at getting me to do my shit. So thank the VSF for this blog post.

Coming Out

2010-11-13T21:57:00.000-08:00

Coming out is a big deal. People come out as queer or kinky or nudist or whatever, and it both grants them freedoms and brings a lot of risks. Coming out as gay, for instance, finally opens you up to the gay community, it gives you the opportunity to date whom you please in an honest way. Unfortunately it all to often also comes along with familial, social, and even occupational consequences. Most people, though, say that coming out has more benefits than drawbacks for most financially independent adults.* Coming out can put you in touch with resources that you didn't know about before. It can give you the relief of being able to live an honest life. It is generally a good thing for one's life as a whole to come out even if not for individual portions of it.

I think what we sometimes fail to realize, though, is that people come out in ways beyond their sexual lives, and these versions of coming out have different effects. One's sexual practices may make have stigma in the form of how others perceive of one's morals. For example, because I am bisexual, certain people probably perceive of me as a godless heathen. Because I am somewhat of a masochist, certain people may suppose that I had an unhealthy childhood. Neither of those prejudices, by the way, are true. The thing is, though, our sexual identities rarely make a comment on our competence or intelligence. While my various sexual comings out have caused people to ever so kindly inform me that I am headed straight for the fires of hell, it has never caused them to tell me that I would not be headed there via a top university and a lucrative career.

I've come out quite a bit sexually, but there's a portion of my life that I am not very out about. It becomes painfully salient in the workplace, but it also is something that I rarely know how to broach with new friends or lovers. It's one of those comings out that does reflect upon my competence, that has caused people to question my capabilities. I have Bipolar Disorder. That is, I get depressed much like any twenty-something in America, but I also sometimes have these wonderful little upshoots when I feel really good. It's not running around thinking that I'm talking to Jesus good, but it is better than average. I don't need as much sleep. I can talk at a breakneck speed. Sometimes my thoughts jump so quickly from topic to topic that people can't quite follow where I'm going. Oh yeah, and sex feels AWESOME. Like more awesome than usual. Like dark chocolate salted caramels mixed with some fine opiates style awesome. The technical term for this experience is hypomania, and generally it rocks. Except when it doesn't.

You see, one of the downsides of hypomania is that when you're in it, your judgment isn't always all there. That translates for some people into thousands of dollars of credit card debt. For me, it translated into a rather long list of sexual partners (remember what I was saying about the awesomeness that is hypomanic sex?) I am not ashamed of my sexual history (anymore), but I do acknowledge that I have hurt some people and myself. I also acknowledge that I am very, very lucky because poor judgment plus sex that feels like candy coated heroin does not always lead to the safest of sexual practices. I (thankfully) have been on hormonal birth control since I was fifteen and never contracted anything, but again, I am VERY lucky.

Another downside of hypomania is that, for me at least, it is inevitably accompanied by crippling "can't get out of bed" depression. There was a period during Sophomore year when I gained twenty pounds, didn't sleep, and barely got out of bed for more than two hours at a time. How I passed my classes, I will never know. I think it was the help of some professors who get that life is hard sometimes. Needless to say, I was not getting laid during that period. Though the nice dopamine rush probably would have helped...

You see, though, I still graduated from a top tier university. I am gainfully employed. I'm going to go to medical school. Yes, sometimes I have made some choices that, in retrospect, I probably wouldn't make again. Yes, I have a disease that can be disabling if not incapacitating at times. Yet I have been terrified to tell people that I have Bipolar Disorder because that is one of those "crazy person" mental illnesses. We can deal with depression. Phobias are almost fashionable these days. When we hear "bipolar," though, our minds leap to that person in the street screaming about the end of days or the crazy cat lady living up the street. I promise you, we aren't all like that. Some of us just have a lot of sex to make up for how little sleep we're getting.

...but, on a sidenote, I really want to be a crazy cat lady when I grow up.

*Please note that I would NEVER recommend that a kid who is dependent on his/her parents for support to come out if it meant sacrificing home, education, livelihood, etc.

SICK

2010-10-21T18:10:00.000-07:00

I'm sick which is notably unsexy, but you know what is sexy? Time to write a blog post. I know, I know, I've been sick since yesterday. I should have had time to write like fifty blog posts by now, and while that is true, I'm not sure that you would have wanted to see the garbled nonsense that would have come out of my fever-ridden brain. As VSF put it yesterday when I said, "I'm not that sick."

"Dear. You can't sit still for two seconds and you keep laughing at things that don't exist. You are that sick."

Anyway, onto the interesting stuff. I've been having a lot of sex recently. You see, it's funny, I started this blog when I was having zero sex (depending on your definition of sex. I think masturbation deserves its own separate and VERY special category.) Now I'm having quite a bit and I'm not updating. In fact, VSF pointed out this irony to me the other day which caused me to give the very firm rebuttal that I have been doing "RESEARCH!"

Okay, I haven't actually learned all that much about sex per se except that it is really hard to maintain eye contact while going at it and that my layaspot is even more fun with another person present...

As I alluded to previously, though, I have recently started exploring kink. I read The Bottoming Book and plan on reading The Topping Book. I've gone to two play parties now, and I have some fun bruises to show for it. This has caused me to confront some interesting questions like "Why does pain turn me on?" and "Is it anti-feminist to kind of want to be called a bitch or a whore?" I mean, resounding answer to the second question is "no" because I am in control of these situations. I choose and consent to be treated in a certain way. It is not some societal weight on my shoulders. Though I do wonder how many of these desires come out of a) being pressured to be submissive and b) my lifelong resistance to those pressures.

As to the first question, I'm not really sure why I enjoy pain. I don't think it implies any sort of pathology really. I just wonder. I think a lot of it has to do with the feeling that comes after being in pain. It's sort of floaty and out of body. I like the bruises, they're a fun reminder. I also really like the strange balance of power that I get to experience in these situations. I can't really say that it is a submissive experience, because when I want to be hit I tell VSF that he should do it. I tell him to take control. This is why I want to read The Topping Book I think, because I like having that power even if it's the power to submit. Weird? Maybe.

In other news, you may have noticed that I've been nameless up to this point. I didn't really want to attach my real name to a sex blog because, well, I work, and I don't want to be fired. Moreover, I kind of don't want my parents/brother/sister-in-law reading this. So! I've come up with a nom de plume. The grand unveiling:

Persephone Mela

And with that, I will go back to napping. It's what we sickies do best!

It's been a while

2010-10-16T00:53:00.000-07:00

My dearest readers, it has been a while. I do apologize, but you see the VSF returned from his travels abroad, and I've been conducting thorough and complete research in the ways of The Sex to bring you new and exciting posts about exotic and amazing things.

We can start with this new fondness that I have developed. It might seem a bit odd, but essentially it is for being beaten up. I have these amazing bruises on my thighs that made a doctor's appointment on Tuesday rather awkward. But you learn such amazing things when someone hits you. For instance, I bet you never knew that a kitchen spatula would provide the most wonderful stinging sensation that sort of builds as it is used more and more. I really like spatulas now.

I guess the thing that I've learned most from this foray into the SM side of BDSM is the interesting difference between the sexual, sensual, intellectual, and emotional. For me, having pain inflicted is very emotional and rather sensual, but not intrinsically sexual (though my body seems to disagree...I lubricate quite well while being beaten...) For VSF, it seems to be a very intellectual/emotional experience. He expresses a lot of fear of getting out of control when causing pain because it is a way of releasing some aggression that he feels he can't let out in his day-to-day life.*

More soon, my darlings, but I am coming from a friend's 21st and I am rather sleepy. But we must speak of all of these things I've been carefully exploring.

With love!

Sexy talk

2010-09-16T07:42:00.000-07:00

As VSF would probably inform you with very little hesitation, I am not actually very sexy. I mean, I'm pretty good looking, articulate, intelligent, etc. but my demeanor and means of interacting with people are not actually that suave. In fact, I'm rather awkward. I trip over things, fart, say really horrible things in the heat of the moment (...slugbeast...), and the time that I tried to have phone sex involved me giggling for half the time. It's a wonder that I get laid at all.

I make up for not being sexy by being highly sexual. It would seem a lot of the time that my life revolves around sex. I get turned on by the most mundane things: a breeze across the back of my neck, the smell of concrete after a good rain (that scent is called petrichor!), the feeling of damp dirt under bare feet, and, most of all, good language.

I don't particularly love dirty talk. It usually feels a little forced and artificial, but I do love and adore language and words. For example, the word petrichor has an inherently sexual sound to it. It rolls off of the tongue and has a great combination of open and closed vowels.The consonants move progressively backwards causing the word to begin at your closed lips and slowly, gently move toward the back of your throat. It's like this simple, under utilized word is a massage for your entire speech system.

I remember the first time I had an exciting experience with sound and sexuality. It involved a pretty failed date in high school. I went out with this dude and I was just not that into him, but then at lunch his mom called and he spoke Russian on the phone with her. Something about the sounds that were coming out of his mouth really turned me on quite dramatically. I ended up making out with him for two hours. Was it worth it? Not sure, I did have to explain the next day that this action did not, in fact, make me his girlfriend which was rather difficult using a high school senior's relationship vocabulary. But wow, those sounds that I did not even understand as comprehensible words were so deep and guttural and earthy that I really couldn't help it.

So, some sex advice that I am probably not at all qualified to give, strengthen your vocabulary. You never know who you are going to speak to that will be helplessly aroused by your use of "petrichor."

P.S. Someone else who is rather awkward and gets turned on in awesome ways is Erika Moen. If you haven't read DAR (which is unfortunately ended), you should. Here are some relevant samples: Awkward!
Orgasms!

A break: Religious Musings

2010-09-09T14:12:00.000-07:00

First, and in keeping with the theme of this post, a short prayer: Dear higher power, I know that I should not be writing blog entries from my mom's computer, but I left my laptop at home. Please give me the strength of memory to remember to logout of this account before leaving. Ever your faithful supplicant, RS.

Now that that's over with...

As I have mentioned before, I am a Jew, and as most of you probably know, we are now entering into the Days of Awe or the Jewish High Holy Days. This is a time when your Jewish brothers and sisters are supposed to contemplate the wrongs that they have done over the course of the year and to ask forgiveness from friends, family, and God for their sins. While I am typically a pretty bad to mediocre Jew, this is one of those Jewish things that I take pretty seriously. I think it is useful to look back over your wrongs and ask for forgiveness. I think it is also useful to have a time to forgive.

I'm having a problem this year, though. For some reason this year more than in years prior, I am confronting the nature of my life as a "sinner." Personally I don't see my lifestyle as very sinful. I am kind, caring, generally helpful, and dedicated to my work and study. This doesn't change the fact that many of the activities in which I enjoy engaging are "sinful" according to religious dogma. In case you didn't catch it yet, I'm referring to The Sex. I enjoy sex. Currently I'm not enjoying very much of it, but that's a different story (will this month PLEASE just end already.) I do not feel the need to beg God for forgiveness about my sex life. I am quite ethical sexually, and I try my best not to hurt people. So what do I have to apologize for? For pleasure? That is so stupid.

But it doesn't change the fact that I am a sinner and this is the time of year to change that. The whole effect of this is heightened when I'm standing in front of a synagogue of people beating my chest to punish myself for my sins of arrogance, betrayal, causing others to sin...What am I supposed to do? Just ignore that rather large part of my life?

I have no answers for this. Do you?

I leave you with some sexy God-Poetry:

I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys.
As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste.
He brought me to the banqueting house, and his banner over me was love.
Stay me with flagons, comfort me with apples: for I am sick of love.
His left hand is under my head, and his right hand doth embrace me.
I charge you, O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes, and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not up, nor awake my love, till he please.
The voice of my beloved! behold, he cometh leaping upon the mountains, skipping upon the hills.
My beloved is like a roe or a young hart: behold, he standeth behind our wall, he looketh forth at the windows, shewing himself through the lattice.
My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell. Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
O my dove, that art in the clefts of the rock, in the secret places of the stairs, let me see thy countenance, let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice, and thy countenance is comely.
Take us the foxes, the little foxes, that spoil the vines: for our vines have tender grapes.
My beloved is mine, and I am his: he feedeth among the lilies.
Until the day break, and the shadows flee away, turn, my beloved, and be thou like a roe or a young hart upon the mountains of Bether.

A History of Sex Part One: Masturbation

2010-09-06T21:46:00.000-07:00

I am not dissatisfied with my sex life. Many people find this incredibly hard to believe as VSF is far away (though finally back in the same country) and I am not currently sleeping with anyone else. My sex life, as we define "sex life" is pretty empty you may say. The thing is, it's not. Not at all. I have a confession to make, you see, I am a Champion Masturbator. That's not to say that I've won any awards, but rather that I am really good at masturbation. I know my body. I know what feels good and what doesn't, but I'm also totally willing (and excited) to try new things. All of the things that make me a good lover, make me a good masturbator. I am GGG with myself. A funny story relating to this which my friend told me that I absolutely have to include in this entry is that one day I was really down, anxious, and generally not feeling great. I couldn't figure out what was wrong. I had slept well, eaten well, exercised, etc. Then I realized that I hadn't masturbated the night before. It's like an apple-a-day people. It'll change your lives.

Anyway, back to the story, I have enjoyed masturbation for a really long time. I think I might have started earlier than most. I remember the occasion. I was 11 or 12 and my mom had gotten me one of those "Your Body, Yourself" books. In it they do a brief discussion of female anatomy including that of the vulva. Of course they point out the clitoris with the explanation that sometimes when women are touched there, they can experience really pleasurable feelings. Well, I like really pleasurable feelings. So I sidled myself right up to a mirror, figured out where that little thing was, and touched it. I will state for the record that that first time was not really earth shattering or even minor-earthquake-that-being-a-native-of-California-I-generally-sleep-through worthy, but it was formative. I had learned how to do something that could give me a lot of pleasure. Not to get all cheesy, but the ability to masturbate and do it effectively I think has given me a lot of freedom in my choice of partners. That is, I can love sex and want sex and be obsessed with sex, but not need another person to explore it. That said, having another person there does change things, but I don't think it makes it better or worse, just different.

So, thanks Mom for getting me that book, and thanks curious brain for not letting me just read about the clitoris and not exploring it.

The relationship between a citadel and a synagogue

2010-09-05T19:51:00.000-07:00

This weekend was seriously amazing people. Let me just say that today was spent grocery shopping then laying out by the pool and swimming a bit then doing some kickboxing then relaxing with Tristan Taormino's The Ultimate Guide to Anal Sex for Women which will be reviewed right here once I finish it. This book, however, was an unlikely centerpiece to some amusement this weekend.

Friday I went to a play party at The Citadel in S.F. For those of you who don't know a play party is a party at which kinky people "play." This play could involve any activity that your mind imagines plus one or two extras probably. My lovely friend Hobbit* brought me along with him. It was my first time at such a party, but it will not be my last. I was certainly nervous going in, and like most girls this nervousness translated into a frenzy of "Oh my God, what am I going to WEAR?!?!"I did end up clothing myself and making it out to the city where I met up with Hobbit and entered this actually pretty tame looking building.

I must say that they thing that struck me the most about this party was not that there were people having lots of very fun looking sex almost everywhere, rather it was how unthreatening an environment it was. Yes, there was flirting, but it was so low pressure. Everyone, I believe, is just so tuned in to the idea of consent that it makes for an environment where it is perfectly acceptable to say, "No, I do not want you to touch me/stand so close to me/fuck me until I can't remember which way is up."

Anyway, more on the party in some later entry, but the amusing part of this entire experience was that the next evening I had to sing at a Selichot service at a synagogue. (Yes, in my spare time I work as a cantorial soloist. My life is very well compartmentalized, thank you.) I stayed the night at Hobbit's house, and the next morning he handed me that delightful little book that I mentioned. I then left to spend the day with my parents until leaving in the evening to go be a good little Jewish girl. I did manage to have the foresight to leave the buttfucking book in my car. I did not have the foresight to turn it upside-down such that anyone looking in my window wouldn't see "ANAL SEX." This became painfully obvious to me when our rabbi walked me out to my car. My life is awkward.

Then again, isn't that the point? I mean, sex will never cease being shameful/taboo until we stop treating it as something to be hidden from our parents/rabbis/bosses. Yet it's hard to contemplate that idea especially when it's so easy to lose one's job and the economy is as bad as it is. I wish that I were brave enough to do it, but I'm stuck here on an anonymous blog talking about it.

Relationship politics, the first of many

2010-09-01T23:19:00.000-07:00

I saw "Eat, Pray, Love" with my mom last weekend. It was not a great movie. I haven't read the book, but I gather that it is not a great book either. The movie was, however, rather enjoyable if you are able to turn on your chick-flick eyes and take it for what it is. I even found myself (reluctantly) identifying with the main character a bit. Like this character, I do tend to be that person who gets a little subsumed in relationships. My psychiatrist says it's a desire to not take risks. I agree. I don't want to be abandoned. Who does? I don't want to be disliked. Again, who does? Anyway, sometimes I can lose the core essence of myself in relationships. I like to think or hope that this has gotten better.

In fact, I know it's gotten better. Here's a roundabout way of explaining that: So I promised to say a little more about "boring sex." Now, I'm loathe to talk a lot about exes. I know it can be disrespectful, but I'll include a little disclaimer: I was with this guy for over a year. There were obviously some very wonderful components to this relationship. He is not a bad guy; he was just not a good guy for me. That said, sex with we'll call him Beige On Beige (BOB)* was really boring. At first I thought it was me. I had started some new brain drugs, and a common side effect is decreased libido. So I just figured my lack of interest in sex had to do with me, not him. But the sex was never really good. I distinctly remember from very early on trying to figure out ways to not have sex as I drove over to visit him. I can hear you all asking, "Then why did you keep seeing him?" Why indeed. Well, because I thought that I had found a special person. I convinced myself that this was the guy. I do this, you see. I managed to tell myself that I liked the things he liked like permaculture and noisy post-rock when really I hate getting my hands really dirty and I prefer Rufus Wainwright. For some reason I had told myself that this was The One and I had to Make It Work. Why I thought this at two months into a relationship, I will never know.

This whole experience has convinced me that sex is a really good litmus test. Yes, we all want to believe in romance that extends beyond sex, that is more important than sex, but you know what, sex is really important. Beyond the fact that it is the single action that has succeeded in perpetuating our species, it's also really fun. If you want to say that fun is not important, then I think you need to seriously examine how much you like yourself.

Anyway, eventually my inhibited sexual frustration made me really grumpy and moody, and BOB broke up with me because I was "mean." Two days later, though, I was okay. Angry, yes, but okay. This isn't the response of a person whose self-worth is tied up in another. Then I realized, that my self worth wasn't and that I was actually a pretty okay individual. I still catch myself in the mindset of "Well, who will I find if VSF up and leaves." I have a new mantra for this:

1. Hell no he won't leave me. I'll leave first. (Okay, not really, but kind of a little.)
2. If he does leave, I don't need to find someone else. I can enjoy singledom and masturbation. Never underestimate the power of masturbation.

So I leave you with that moral, friends. Never underestimate the power of masturbation (or self-fulfillment and all those other things that go along with it.)

* No, his name was not Bob or Robert or any derivation thereof.

Sex and literature (or sexy literature?)

2010-09-01T07:38:00.000-07:00

When I was in middle school and high school, fan fiction was a really big deal. Maybe it's still a big deal, and I'm just not as good at the internet as I used to be. Anyway, my friends and I would spend ridiculous amounts of time hunting down, consuming, writing, and discussing fan fiction. Generally we were into Harry Potter and Gundam Wing fics. Occasionally Sailor Moon would prop her pretty little head in. Yes, I am a nerd. I never made any claims to the contrary.

Anyway, as I got older I decided that maybe I'd better start reading real books rather than stories written by teenagers on the internet. Before that happened, however, I did discover the joy of erotic fan fiction. I mean, come on, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were totally meant to be together forever and have lots of hot gay sex. Don't judge me. These stories were, looking back, rather formative in my own sexual development. They bridged the gap between childhood literature and adult sexual existence. I did write some fan fiction as a kid. I don't remember if I ever wrote anything erotic, but I certainly did write erotic original stories that followed the same basic formula of a short fan fiction.

Here I am, though, 22 years old, and I'm back to it. Here's the story: my Very Special Friend (VSF) read Atlas Shrugged and then encouraged me to read it so that he could discuss it with someone. So I read it. In case you are unfamiliar with the story it follows this Railroad Executive, Dagny Taggart, as she discovers the incompetence of men in our society. It also has a lot of sex because Ayn Rand wrote Dagny to be a surrogate for herself. Anyway, there's this great scene that involves Dagny, Francisco (Dagny's childhood lover), and John Galt. I don't want to give away too much, but VSF and I both came to the conclusion that, although a threesome never did happen, it totally should have. I figured such a fan fiction must exist on the interwebs. Lo and behold, it does not. So I said I'd write it. Yes, I am currently in the process of writing a fan fiction based upon Atlas Shrugged. I am discovering in the process that I have a bit of a block about writing about sex. Some of it is vocabulary: Do I write come? cum? ejaculate? And what on earth do you call a penis? A penis? Cock? Dick? Man-sausage? I'm also having trouble describing sex. Which is weird, right? Because I have a lot of sex, and I spent a bit of time having a lot of boring sex (more on that later) during which I definitely daydreamed/narrated to myself. Yet I still have trouble with it.

I think a lot of the problem might have to do with the disconnect in my head between sex and literature. I know that there's tons of sex in literature. I've read Romeo and Juliet. I've read Lady Chatterley's Lover. Literature is engorged with sex, but I still see it as something pure. I see sex in literature as a tool to make a point. To write in gratuitous sex in the form of a fan fiction seems a bit...sacrilegious? I know that's stupid. I mean if literature is engorged with sex, the authors of said literature were swimming in it. So I have hang-ups. I'm getting over them. I also need to just finish this damn fan fiction before VSF gets back. Until then, anyone want to give me some vocabulary tips?

How I spend money

2010-08-31T06:55:00.000-07:00

I'm Jewish. This says a lot about me, and it says even more about my mother. You know those stereotypes of the Jewish mother? The nervous woman encouraging her children to eat, do well in school, and marry a nice Jewish boy? Yeah, that's my mom. Except that she's really skinny instead of squishy and soft. It makes it scarier.

In addition to a deep-seated unconscious feeling that Jewish boys are nicer, sexier, and just all around better, my mom also instilled in me an extreme fear of money. Well, it's a fear of losing money. I am terrified to spend money beyond basic survival -- food, rent, electricity. I do it, but every time I do it's a little heart-racing experience. "What if I go broke? What if I can't pay the rent? What if I have to move back in with my mother who deletes phone messages from boys who don't sound Jewish enough? Maybe I don't really need to spend that buck fifty on a cup of coffee..."

There's one exception to this: Sex Toys. I love my vibrators, and I NEVER feel guilty buying them. I mean, I've never sprung the $160 for the Lelo Mona that I so desperately desire, or for the Fun Factory Share that I keep telling myself will be a good investment. I mean, if I get it, I'm basically assuring that the people I date will have to enjoy me having the penis in the relationship at least some of the time. Right? Right?

It seems ridiculous to friends and family that I fret about going out to dinner but will drop money almost thoughtlessly on a nice sex toy, and I will admit that it's a little odd. I love food almost as much as I love sex. A nice dinner would probably give me about as much enjoyment as that vibrator will, but here's the thing. That nice dinner will only give it once. My favorite vibrator (for those who are interested, the Layaspot) has given me enjoyment time after time after time, and every single orgasm is different and beautiful in its own way. So that's why I spend money the way I spend money. Oh yeah, that and I'm generally a nervous wreck who needs to not worry so much about her finances. It's another thing that goes along with being Jewish.

Well, this is new...

2010-08-29T23:02:00.000-07:00

So, I'm not going to lie: a large incentive for starting a blog is to get free books to review. I mean, who doesn't love free books? Especially free books about sex.

That said, I've wanted to start a blog about sex for a long time. I mean, who doesn't want to hear EVERYTHING that I think about sex, and I think a lot about sex. I mean a lot. I mean enough that it maybe should be criminal.

On a side note: I really hope that I have successfully divorced this blog from my work email enough that I do not get fired. It would really suck to be fired.

Back to business: Some other wonderful things to expect from this are the occasional non-sexy book book review, maybe some discourse on mental health rights, and, of course, the obligatory occasional "Look what I did today that's super cool" narcissistic blog post by which the internet is defined. We'll try to keep those to a minimum, okay?