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I love this article.
Hats off to beautiful femmes
LOOSE END / Thank you for looking at me the way you do
Ivan Coyote / Vancouver / Thursday, July 30, 2009
To all the beautiful, kick ass, fierce and full-bodied femmes out there, I would like to extend my thanks to you.
It is for you that I press my shirts and carefully iron my ties. It is for you that I make sure my underwear and socks match. It is to you that I tip my cowboy hat. It is for you that I polish my big black boots.
I know that sometimes you feel like nobody truly sees you. I want you to know that I see you. I see you on the street, on the bus, in the gym, in the park.
I don’t know why I can tell that you are not straight, but I can. Maybe it is the way you look at me. Please don’t stop looking at me the way you do.
All of my life I have been told that I am ugly, I am less than, I am not a man, I am unwanted. Until you came along, I believed them. Please do not ever stop looking at me the way you do.
I would never say that the world is harder on me than it is you. Sometimes you are invisible. I have no idea what this must feel like, to pass right by your people and not be recognized. To not be seen. I cannot hide, unless I am seen as something I am not. This is not more difficult, it is just different.
I know those shoes are fucking killing your feet. I want you to know how much I appreciate that you are still wearing them. You look hot. I love you in them. They look great with that dress.
If it makes you feel any better at all, the boots I have on right now weigh approximately 12 pounds apiece and they make the soles of my feet burn like diaper rash in a heat wave and it feels like I’m wearing ski boots when I have to walk up stairs. But I wear them for you.
Even still, my new boots are velvet slippers compared to your knee-high five-inch heels. I notice, and I salute you.
I promise, I am not just staring at your tits. I am trying to look you directly in the eyes, but you are almost eight inches taller than me, please see above note regarding your five-inch heels. At the same time, I would like to mention that while I was trying to look you in the eyes, I couldn’t help but notice your lovely new pendant. I am sure it really brings out the colour of your eyes, if I could see them.
I want to thank you for coming out of the closet. Again and again, over and over, for the rest of your life. At school, at work, at your kid’s daycare, at your brother’s wedding, at the doctor’s office. Thank you for sideswiping their stereotypes.
I never get the chance to come out of the closet, because my closet was always made of glass. But you do it for me. You fight homophobia in a way that I never could. Some of them think I am queer because I am undesirable. You prove to them that being queer is your desire.
Thank you for loving me because of who I am and what I look like, not in spite of who I am and what I look like.
Thank you for smelling so good.
Thank you for holding my hand on the sidewalk during the hockey playoffs. I know it is probably small-minded of me to smile wicked at all the drunken dudes in jerseys smoking outside the sports bar in between periods because you are so fucking hot, and you are with me and not them, but I can’t help it. That’s right fellas. You want her but she wants me. How do you like them apples?
Thank you for wearing matching bra and panties. I don’t know why this makes my life seem so perfect, but it really does.
Thank you for being the daughter my mother always wanted. You are so smart and successful and you dress so fine that you almost make up for her having me and my sister for her real children.
Thank you for reaching out in the dark at the movie theatre to grab my hand in the scary parts. It makes me feel like I am strong, that I can take care of you. Even if there is no such thing as vampires, and you do so much yoga that you could probably easily kick my ass.
I want you to know I love your crooked tooth, your stretch marks, the missing part of your finger, your short leg, your third nipple, your lazy eye, your cowlick, your birthmark shaped like Texas. I love it all.
I want you to know that I know it is not always easy to love me. That sometimes my chest is a field full of landmines and where you went last night you can’t go tomorrow. There is no manual, no roadmap, no helpline you can call. My body does not come with instructions, and sometimes even I don’t know what to do with it. This cannot be easy, but still, you touch me anyway.
Thank you for escorting me into the women’s washroom because the floor of the men’s was covered in something unmentionable. Thank you for asking me if I had a tampon in my purse really loud so the lady in the turquoise sweatshirt did a double take before gathering up her daughter and hitting me with a pool noodle. I can’t say for sure whether that is what actually would have happened, but thanks to you I didn’t have to find out.
Thank you for wearing that dress just because you knew it would match my shirt. Together, we are unstoppable. When seen through your eyes, I am beautiful. Turns out I was a swan the whole time.
Read more of Ivan Coyote’s writing on Xtra.ca.
I’m meeting with EJ on Saturday, bright and early at 8am. First we’re meeting at my mom’s house where our camper is stored so we can clean everything out, then we’re headed back to our house to go through and clean up joint things in the basement and front closet. I’m hoping everything can be finished by noon-ish. I’m not really sure how I feel about this overall. I know there is some relief there – the more things of hers that get out the better I feel, the more it feels like “my” house, and the less I’m reminded of us and the life we had together. There’s also probably a bit of anxiety there – I haven’t spent this amount of time with her since she left me, let alone in the space that was once ours, let alone doing something like cleaning up and throwing away part of a life we spent together. Intellectually I feel like that might cause some anxiety or distress within me, but right now my heart tells me I won’t feel any of those negative things because she doesn’t have that kind of effect on me anymore. I hope my heart is right and it ends up not being a big deal at all.
Another interesting element is that B is going to be with me at my house this weekend. B doesn’t care at all about being there at the same time as EJ – it doesn’t make her uncomfortable or awkward – in fact, she actually wants to meet her. I on the other hand am a bit uncomfortable about them being in the house together and I definitely don’t want them to meet. The main reason for this is that I don’t want EJ to know my business, at all. I want my new life to be mine. I want the people that are close to me and that love me the only ones privy to those details. She does not fall into this category. I want to keep my business and private life separate, so to speak. I asked B if she would mind hanging out in my bedroom while we are working on things, and she said she didn’t mind but then asked, “Does that mean I can’t come out at all?” I cracked up. Poor thing. No, that wasn’t what I meant – of course she can come out, she can do whatever she wants – she can go to the bathroom, come to the kitchen for something to eat or drink, go outside to play with the dog – whatever it is that we would normally do. I just don’t want her in the living room where she’d be right there with us, almost having to interact and talk with EJ. EJ knows I’m dating someone, having sex with them, that they stay over the house and leave their toothbrush and body wash and she knows that I’m moving on – and that’s enough. She doesn’t need to know the details. I don’t care if that seems stupid. I want my privacy, as much as I can from her damnit.
(I have thought about if they are on the first floor at the same time, and I am there also. Do I introduce them? It would probably be rude if I didn’t, right?)
Work for B is light right now (good for us spending extra time together, bad for her wallet) so she’s not working tomorrow, but instead headed to my house tonight for a long weekend. I think we may stop by Barnes & Noble tonight (Woohoo!) and maybe to the AT&T store to get her a new phone since she’s had her current one for like 3 or 4 years and it’s about to die on her. (Can you imagine, a 4 year old cell phone? Just seems unheard of nowadays. Haha). I’m making homemade tacos for dinner. Yum. Should be a great night.
We decided to try to not leave the cabin this weekend, to just hang out with little agenda, except sleeping, eating, reading, and sex. Amazingly, we managed to do it. Amazingly for me because I often like to be on the go and doing things and to sit around and virtually do “nothing” for two days is unheard of for me.
We arrived on Friday at an extremely decent time since I took a half day from work. B surprised me by pulling out a red sexy lingerie thing, along with black knee highs and a garter belt. She asked me to put it on and suggested it be my “uniform” for the weekend. Well, I’m sure as hell glad I can laugh at myself because I didn’t know what the garter belt was or how to put it on – I had never worn one before! So B helped me put it on (grinning) and she was commenting about how surprised she was that I wasn’t all over this garter belt wearing thing, that it seems so like me and something I’d be a pro at wearing (which I agree, it does seem that way, knowing myself) but what can I say? First time for everything. I have to admit that even I think I looked good in this lingerie getup. I wore it through dinner and the rest of the night and it was pretty sweet. B took tons of pictures of me in this outfit. I can’t believe I let her. I haven’t gone through them yet, maybe I’ll post one or two if they are PG enough
Saturday morning B brought me downstairs to the deck to overlook the valley, which looked like an ocean. Seriously. All you could see was three or four tops of the mountains, which looked like little islands, and the rest of the world was covered by this misty fog that looked like water. I took some pictures that I’ll have to share. B cooked breakfast (she loves to cook, loves it, which is wonderful) while I finished reading one of my books on my summer reading list, The Horse Boy. It was so good, and so nice to just sit and read and not have to get anything done. After I finished the book we went upstairs for a nap and to my horror / delight, we took a three hour nap. Three hours! I hardly ever take naps let alone one that long.
While B cooked dinner I put my “uniform” back on and finalized my plans for how I was going to reveal my outfit that I brought along. We had a bottle of wine with dinner, then chatted for quite a while on the couch, finishing the wine and starting another bottle. B knew she had a surprise waiting for her and was anxious to see what it was. We already had a sort of “play” going on, she was wearing her cock and me this sexy lingerie getup and I was already in the “little girl” mode and she in the more dominant role … all this before dinner. I did forewarn her that I was going to give her instructions while I was revealing her surprise and she had to play along (when I’m in a submissive role, obviously, I never give her orders so I wanted her to know some were coming). I told her that I was going to throw the blindfold down and when I told her to put it on she had to.
While I was getting ready she started a fire. It took me a while to get dressed and be happy with the results. I swooped my hair up in a clip, two pieces framing the sides of my face, and made sure I had my glasses on – very librarian / studious look going on. I wore the new garter belt and knee highs which went perfect with the outfit, hiked up my skirt so that when I bent over there was a nice view, and unbuttoned the first two or three buttons on my blouse (no bra) so that my tie hung loose in-between my breasts. Edited because I forgot to add that I did end up wearing a thong underneath – the combination of the red garter and black lacy thong was too hot to pass up! I added some deep brownish red lipstick to emphasize my already full lips, a touch of my perfume which drives her nuts, and slipped my heels on before yelling downstairs that it was time to put the blindfold on.
My movements were slow, calculated. When I reached her on the couch I stood in front of her, making her aware of my presence before slowly leaning into her ear and telling her that there’s only one rule once I take the blindfold off – she cannot touch me until I say. I made sure she understood, made her promise to follow the rule before I slowly slipped off her mask and she opened her eyes to me bending near her, a clear shot of my chest, me grinning. The look on her face was priceless – shock, pleasure, surprise, desire – all at once, all for me. She verbalized how pleased she was, how much she was never expecting this, how perfect this was and how perfect I looked. I spent the next hour teasing her – bending over to pick something up, sipping my wine while walking in front of her, talking to her, playing the game with words, kissing her, straddling her lap, taking off my tie and putting it around her – anything I could think of to drive her nuts. I ended with the ultimate, hottest thing I could do in front of her and not let her touch me (I’ll let you figure that one out) before I finally gave her permission, which was just as much for my benefit as hers.
What a hot night.
Sundays at the cabin are always said because it’s leaving day. We had a late breakfast and did some reading and cleaned up and put things away. B wanted another nap, so I obliged even though it was really too late and we had to get going (it’s a 2 and a half hour ride to B’s house, plus we usually stop for dinner, plus it’s an hour and a half ride to my house with no traffic). We stopped at a crazy hick place to eat with deer heads on the walls (I’m not a fan) and I mentioned how there should be warning signs on the outside that stuffed dead animals would be watching you eat. She laughed and told me that probably almost every eatery in these counties around here have deer heads on the walls – it’s as common as shit on flies, apparently. Then she got serious and asked me if it did really seriously bother me, because if so we could go somewhere else. The offer was sweet but I told her I’d manage, which I did : ) It’s just interesting and eye opening to be exposed to a culture and people that I’m just not used to.
It was a late night but it was worth it. I hope to have the chance to do nothing again really soon.
And B is still talking about that outfit, making it very clear that I can put it on anytime I want : )
For whatever reason, I cannot upload this video to my blog It tells me “an error has occurred” but it doesn’t tell me what the bloody error is! Rocket, any ideas?
Anyway, I posted a little jeeping video on youtube last night from the July 4th weekend. Nothing exciting … I’m just happy to finally get around to downloading it
Edited per instruction from Rocket, let’s try this again
So last night I went shopping for my corset – unfortunately, the only one they had in my size was that black and red leather one, the $400 one – so no corsets were purchased (and how crazy is it that the other two were gone since Saturday?).
I did find a really nice schoolgirl outfit, plus I got an amazing deal on these hot black heels ($20!) that I couldn’t pass up. (See pics below). I’m excited about my purchases, and also a little nervous! B and I have dipped into s&m, learning each other, pushing limits, figuring out what each other likes and doesn’t like … we’ve just touched the surface. She requested I bring the shortest skirt I have to the cabin this weekend, and when I saw this outfit in the store last night, I knew I had to have it. I went to catholic school for most of my life, which fascinates most people (it took moving to a different state and growing up to realize that most people don’t go to catholic school – hahah), and B was no exception. A few weeks ago, we had this exchange:
B: “So, since you went to Catholic school, you had a uniform, right?”
B: “You wore skirts then?”
J: “From 1st to 4th grade we had to wear a jumper, then 5th grade we were allow skirts – which all the girls opted to wear.”
B: “That’s hot.”
J: “I guess lol.”
B: “No, it is. I wish I could have seen you in that skirt.”
J: “I’m sure I have a picture somewhere.”
B: “Do you still have the skirt?”
J: “Actually, I do. I kept my skirt from 8th grade, but that shit won’t fit anymore!”
B: (laughing) “Yummy.”
So I’m bringing the outfit and the heels this weekend, although I’m not entirely sure how to present myself, if you will? I don’t want to just walk out of the bathroom or the bedroom in the outfit. I’ll have to think on that. I haven’t had a scene like this since EJ, so I’m just a tad nervous – hoping I won’t make an ass out of myself, hoping I’ll look as sexy as I want to look, just hoping I can keep my composure… I should also mention that ultimately, I will be submitting / bottoming during this play (as is the case most times, although not always). I’ll probably do a lot of the teasing / not listening properly schoolgirl routine, which will make B “angry” because I’m won’t be listening to him on purpose (B’s always a he during this play), and therefore have to spank me / tie me up / teach me a lesson – which is, of course, what I want… which is most of the reason I bought the outfit to begin with …
Anyway, I want your feedback on perhaps the most important part of the outfit – underneath the clothes Do I wear thongs or go commando? What would you do, or what would you want your woman to wear / not wear?
Let’s just get it out of the way now – the big elephant in my head : today is the year anniversary of my engagement. An engagement that has been cancelled, terminated for reasons I myself still do not understand and probably never will. I’ve tried not to let my thoughts wander to that day, that morning, as the sun rose over Cadillac Mountain, it’s first rays of light hitting the east coast, and I, taking pictures unaware, turned around to find my ex-love standing there with the ring box open, tears in her eyes, asking me to be her wife. I’ve tried not to let my thoughts wander to the butterflies in my belly, to the kiss and embrace as I said yes, the feeling of the ring slipping on my finger, the astonishing happiness of the moment. I’ve tried not to let my thoughts wander to the rest of the day, to the hike we took with Gracie or the quaint place we had breakfast or the shopping we did, hand-in-hand, my ring glistening as my hand fit perfectly in hers, the lunch we had overlooking the pond, my mom’s happiness as I told her and showed her the ring, the way it felt, knowing I would soon officially be her wife.
I’ve tried not to think too much about these things today, and mostly, I have been successful. This day hurts less than I imagined it would but more than I wish it would. It seems like a dream, some fairytale that I made up. The perfection of the proposal, the happiness of the couple, the seemingly perfect life that was happening – was it really my life? It chokes me up, a ball of unknowingness that sits at the base of my throat, this life I sometimes miss so much I can barely breathe.
Tears run down my face as I type this. Sometimes the sadness wins.
I think the event I have tonight is helping me keep my mind off things, which is definitely a positive. I’m co-hosting a GLBTQ faculty and staff summer bbq here at the well known university I work for, which my co-worker and I completely put together ourselves. We had about 80 people RSVP, which doesn’t include the people they will be bringing with them (family, kids, friends, etc), so it should be a good turnout. I’m just excited to meet other gay faculty and staff – getting to know my community here at work should be nothing but awesome.
After the event tonight, which my bestest is coming to, we’re going to stop by an awesome sex toy and clothing shop here in Philly because I think I’m going to finally purchase a real, true-blue, genuine corset. I tried some on this weekend (can’t wait to write about that) and I have seldom felt sexier than when wearing this fine piece of clothing. So, I think I’m going to treat myself (and surprise B) and indulge.
One day at a time.
This journal entry is going to be about bleeding and pain, and it will probably have a lot of curses in it. You’ve been forewarned.
Officially, I have an annovulatory period cycle. This basically means that I don’t ovulate regularly, which causes me to basically have a fucked up period. I go months without bleeding (that’s not so bad) but then once I do start bleeding, it goes on and on and on. I’ve been dealing with this for probably 6 or 7 years. In the beginning, I was put on birth control to try to regulate it. I tried three different kinds of birth control, all of which made me ill. I’d throw up daily. It was ridiculous. So I took myself off the birth control and was like fuck this, I’ll let it comes as it comes.
In the beginning of March I got my period, and I didn’t think much of it after I had it for a month (that can be normal for me). After I had it for two months I thought, ok, this is getting a little crazy. At two and a half months, I decided to call the doctor because I was so sick of bleeding. I had the appointment around the three month mark of having my period (so far, that’s the longest I’ve ever bled), and I told the doctor I’d be willing to try birth control again, because this is just entirely out of control. So she put me on progesterone which causes the bleeding to stop, and then 5-15 days after that your period should start up, and then it’s time to start the birth control. Long story short, I started bleeding very soon after the progesterone was finished, so I started taking the birth control, but to my surprise, three weeks later, my REAL period showed up. The bleeding previously was apparently just spotting. Fuck. I called my doctor and they wanted to see me but I refused, told them to give me the progesterone so I could try this again and start taking the pill on the REAL first day of my cycle. So they did.
Well, I got my period yesterday … and holy shit. My periods should probably documented in some medical book, they are so fucking painful and heavy and clotty. I have a super plus tampon in, and I’m wearing two pads. Yes, that is how fucking heavy I am in the beginning. The pain has me doubled over, running to the bathroom because I’m so nauseous and I’m not sure if I’m going to throw up that time or not, and just attacking my body. I’ve had severe cramps since my second period of my life, so I’ve been dealing with this for a long time and I’ve built up a pretty high pain tolerance for it. Unfortunately, just take 4 ibuprofen or 3 Aleve just doesn’t cut it anymore, and I’ve tried other things but nothing works, and I’msofuckingfrustrated that nothing is taking the pain away, because this shit is ridiculous. And bleeding like a pig and having this kind of pain might not even be so horrendous if I could do it at HOME, in my bed! But no. At work I am, because this is life and you just have to fucking deal and that sucks.
I just hope this new birth control works. I hope it regulates it and I hope it doesn’t make me sick and I hope I can have a normal period so I can stop spending $1,230,344.45 a month on tampons and pads and so that I can have sex for the majority of the month and so that my pain is limited to 3 days instead of 35. I hope I feel better soon and I hope I’m in a better mood soon and I hope my period goes away after the standard 5-7 days.
It feels good, although not good enough to stop the pain, to vent about this and get it out. Maybe now I’ll focus and write about some happy things to counteract this wretched mood I’m in.
There is no better song that I’m listening to right now than Jason Mraz’s I’m Yours. I love it. Beautiful lyrics. Beautiful sound, both the original version and the radio version.
So I won’t hesitate no more, no more
It cannot wait I’m sure
There’s no need to complicate
Our time is short
This is our fate, I’m yours
My boss isn’t here today. At least not yet. That has allowed us all a nice sigh of relief, and certainly a more relaxed day. As seen by me blogging right now during work hours.
I can’t believe it’s July 17th already.
About a year ago a Super Walmart opened up about 7 minutes from my house. I went there last night to grocery shop. It’s not my favorite place to be, and I’d certainly rather get my food from a normal grocery store, but I also needed cat food and cat litter and deodorant, and a few other essentials, and the fact is, they are cheaper there. Being single with no help, struggling to pay everything on my own – you budget and penny pinch like never before! So Walmart and I are starting to become good friends. I still spent way too much money than I wanted to, but I haven’t food shopped in weeks, so that’s what happens.
B came to my house last night, and is staying until Tuesday morning. Do you know how exciting it is to know that when I come home from work tonight, she’ll be there? How happy it makes me to have her at my house all weekend long? For an extended weekend, in fact? I’ve come home to her before, a few times when she’s been able to get off of work early and come for a night, or sometimes work a short day on Friday … it makes the work day 100 % better. Today, she’s running to the produce place for me, washing her jeep, and I think she might give Gracie a bath. She offered, which is so. freakin. nice. Seriously. It’s so nice having a little bit of help sometimes, even though I don’t ask for it.
Speaking of help, B helped me carry the groceries in last night and helped me fold those two sets of king sheets that are still sitting in my dryer from three weeks ago. Although I’m able to do it on my own, as evidenced by this post, I’m still grateful for the assistance.
There isn’t a set agenda for this weekend, but things we have in the projections which I’m hoping can all happen! :
• Cook meals together. Preferably naked.
• Watch a movie, or three, while cuddling.
• Go into Philly for some sightseeing since B hasn’t seem much of the city.
• Have sex. A lot.
• Take pictures.
• Hopefully eat a delicious, cheesy, mouth-watering cheesesteak with greg and her gf!
• Take the diggity dog out somewhere and wear her out.
• Pick blueberries
It can’t get much better than that.