Note To Self: New Rules From Failed Relationships

1. Don’t get involved with people who can’t ethically be in a relationship with you. This is including but not limited to people above or below you in management rank or people already in relationships that are not consensualy non-monogamous relationships. And republicans/conservative Christians because ethically they’re opposed to your beliefs and rights. (Damn republicans.)

2. Never co-sign for shit, regardless of how long you’ve been together.

3. Have separate bedrooms always. Personal space is a must. Take it when you need it.

4. Never hire your significant others on at your job. (Especially when you hire both of them on at the same job.)

5. Never get married again. The symbolism is touching, but really it’s just a throw back to an archaic transfer of ownership under the guise of religious ceremony. You don’t need to blow several grand to celebrate loving people. (Plus you’re an atheist.)

6. Communication.

7. When friends tell you they’re tired of watching you get treated poorly by significant others and this conversation happens repeatedly, take it as a wake up call to leave. No more fighting the good fight to salvage for salvaging’s sake.

8. Love freely. Don’t walk on eggshells for anyone. Be honest with your intentions and feelings. But never feel like you have to stifle them.

Poly Talk

Having to explain the difference between open relationships and polyamory. No, I don’t just get strange outside of my co-primaries. Yes, I do have that option but I can also have emotions for and develop relationships with people. Same goes for my partners. No, that’s not cheating as long as all partners are either single or in consensualy non-monogamous relationships.

A rectangle isn’t necessarily a square, but a square is most certainly a rectangle.

What are you interested in? Scratching, biting? Can I dig my nails into you? Would you like a smack in the face? If so, open handed, back of the hand, or both? What about a punch? I’ve got a lot of unresolved anger issues I can take out on you if you’d like. You can be rougher with me, too. I promise I won’t break.
—  Me to #21 or How I probably intimidate men.
Done, Or A Short Story About Everyone Fucking Off

I am finished pretending to be concerned about my abusive, neglectful, absentee father for the sake of the rest of his family. I don’t want updates. I don’t want calls, texts, emails, Facebook messages, or voicemails. If this hadn’t happened, he would not have entered back into my life at all. He didn’t give a fuck about my sister or me. Let’s quit pretending he suddenly does.

I’m tired of thinking I should have, could have, would have done something different to salvage my previous relationships. I’m over feeling guilty. Instead, I’ve learned to pick up on warning signs earlier and be proactive. People are temporary, relationships are temporary. If they make you feel guilty or shitty, move on.

I am also done feeling like a traitor to feminism or queers because I fuck men as well as women. Shove it.

I’m over being told to get my anger in check because I’m not responding how other people would like. I’m allowed to have whatever feelings I have.

I’m going to work as much as I want to pay my debt off. Quit telling me I work too much when you have little to no debt eating away at you. You don’t know how much that weighs on a person.

And I am done pretending that I’m not entirely in love with the idea of having a baby in the next 2 years, finances permitting. And yes, if CJ wants to father it, I’d be delighted. But regardless, my body, my future baby. Quit talking down about the idea.

Now fuck off and let me go back to living my life.

I find it comical that a grown man had to cover up the fact we had been sleeping together before he got into an “open” relationship with his girlfriend who knew he wanted to sleep with me. What difference does knowing we slept together before they got together have to do with anything? Then she asked him to make the first month of their relationship monogamous before sleeping with me. What? Is there some confusion here? Needless to say, they broke up 5 weeks later.

People are weird.


Today, I had my rotors replaced for just material costs and went by myself to a laundromat for the first time. I read 50 pages of Ishmael by Daniel Quinn while I waited. I’m enjoying my tastes of being alone in fending for myself and finding my own resources. Hopefully I grow more comfortable being alone more often.

Penciled In: Year Of 89ers

#21 came by to pick up Nicky’s girlfriend and her kid to fix her car. I was getting in the shower and he asked if he could come in to pee. After a brief amount of small talk from opposite sides of a shower curtain, he asked if we were still good for a weekly tryst. Guess I didn’t scare him off after all.

Today, I keep getting lost in day dreams about my future house. Saturated color palettes, eccentric patterns, and eclectic tastes. Natural light, the scent spices and old books, and records playing blues in the background.

I’ll build a home for us. All you have to do is stay.

Queering Up My Mind

Many internal dialogues filter in and out of my mind in less than appropriate times. Most recently, mid-coitus, I experienced a dissociative episode (happens from time to time during sex) where I was suddenly watching myself fuck a man. Hand placement and technique, thought patterns and goals, all were intently focused towards fucking women. I realized I play/touch men in the same style that I do women, with the exception that I tend to be far more physically aggressive with men. 

I began running this through my mind, analyzing previous relationships. Since adolescence I’ve identified as bisexual, then pansexual, and settled on queer a few years back. I’ve staunchly held the position that I’m equally attracted to all genders. A perfect 3 on the Kinsey Scale if you will. But I have come to the conclusion that I am not. While the anticipation and initial attraction happens with most cis het males, I quickly loose interest or sex leaves me questioning why I even bother. I dislike male-centric sex, grunting, male body hair, the way men sweat during sex. Luckily, it isn’t something I’ve had to deal with recently. 

I believe I lean much further towards a primarily female only interest. Recognizing this has created a paradigm shift within myself that I will be spending the next few weeks exploring.


When I originally moved from Springfield, Charlie and I were split down the middle between Tulsa and Kansas City. 3 years ago, Tulsa seemed easier. I moved and never felt at home since. It’s hard to imagine being in a permanent state of drift. Nothing feels right here, no matter how hard I pretend or accept my fate. I’ve learned a lot about myself these past 3 years. The appreciation I feel for my experiences will live with me forever. But I’ll always be an Oklahoma transplant.

Now I’m very much ready to go home.