I had tentative plans with the Blues Man on Sunday for an actual study date. No, that's not a euphemism. We both have a lot of papers to finish before the end of the semester, so we were going to get together to work on them. It feel through, though, and so I found myself sitting in my house Sunday afternoon, growing increasingly horny.
That's how I found myself texting the Diplomat for a booty call. Of course, I actually like spending time with the guy, so it was more like “I want your body. Oh, and let's have dinner, too.” The Diplomat has been over to my house a few times, but only to pick me up. I wanted him to see how I live, as sappy as that may sound. For god's sake, he'd never even seen my bedroom or office!
Well, that was quickly remedied when he came over. I gave him a tour of the house, and somehow it managed to end in the bedroom (imagine that!) It's been so hot here lately that we ended up a sweaty, sticky mess. In other words, it was fantastic.
I'd promised dinner- this was a high-class booty call, after all- so we went downstairs to make it. This was also the first time I'd cooked for him, and he's been doing such fancy meals for me, I was intimidated. I was also almost out of food- I missed the farmer's market on Saturday where I get most of my food for the week, and I hadn't gone to the grocery store to get some other stuff. That meant I had to fall back on one of my “whatever's left in the fridge” staples- homemade flatbread pizzas. Not terribly impressive, but he seemed happy with it, and I thought it tasted good.
By the time we were done eating, it was getting late. We'd gotten horribly sweaty earlier, and the heat from the oven had created a furnace in the kitchen that was cooking us alive. That meant there was only one solution- a cool shower. This wasn't the first time the Diplomat and I have showered together; even so, there's something undeniably sex about seeing a partner naked and glistening with soap and water. That's not to mention how much fun it is to rub against each other when you're all slippery. In other words, I'm a big fan of showering together for reasons other than having someone to wash your back.
Afterwards, we went to my room to get ready for bed. We completely disregarded the fact that we'd just cooled down, and we heated things up again. Then we lay in bed together, touching as much as we could without feeling like we were going to suffocate from the body heat, and started talking.
“Something has changed,” he told me. “Since we went sailing, things have felt different.”
I had to agree. It's not that I think our sailing trip changed things, but that it was about that time that I started looking at him differently. Maybe it had something to do with splitting up from the Dreamer that allowed me to see what else could develop, but it's definitely gone beyond “just hanging out” recently between me and the Diplomat. I told him so (leaving out the part about the Dreamer, of course). Still, I was surprised by his next question.
“So would I be off-base if I referred to you to my friends as my girlfriend?”
If I'm going to be completely honest, I have to admit that I was relieved. I'd considered broaching the topic a couple times in the last week or so, but after the way things went down with the Dreamer, I was afraid to bring it up. I feel like in that case, I had pushed him into more of a relationship than he was wanting, and it all blew up in my face. So this time, it's really exciting that we're on the same page. We talked about what “being serious” meant to us, and what we want out of a relationship. We talked about still dating others, and that both of us are absolutely wanting that. But I was also careful to explain that doing so doesn't mean to me that he and I are any less committed. In other words, I tried to learn from the mistakes I'd made in dating the Dreamer.
The Diplomat had to leave early the next morning, as usual. I had laughed earlier in the week when my roommate remarked upon how rarely my guys stay over past 8am, but it's so true. Still, better that than a guy who never leaves!
Showing posts with label polyamory. Show all posts
Showing posts with label polyamory. Show all posts
Friday, May 7, 2010
Monday, May 3, 2010
Thursday- He Blows My...You Know
When I found out a band I like was playing downtown, I decided I was going to go, whether or not I had someone to go with. Just in case, though, I bought an extra ticket. When I offered it up to my friends and guys I'm dating, Mr. Dimple was the first to respond. That meant he won. A few hours later, though, I got an email from the Anarchist saying (half-jokingly) that he couldn't believe I didn't ask him, since I knew he liked that type of music. I told him he should still get his own ticket and then he could hang out with us.
Was that rude of me to Mr. Dimple? Quite possibly. I know some guys who are okay with polyamory in the abstract don't want to be confronted with it in the form of meeting the Other Significant Others. There was no way I was going to un-invite Mr. Dimple, though, and the Anarchist seemed so bummed that he didn't have anyone to go to the show with.
Mr. Dimple came over to my house a few hours before the show. We'd planned to go out to dinner, but hadn't decided where, when he told me that he was in a sort of foul mood and that a “really good hamburger” would help. I knew just the place- the bar/restaurant down the street from me. The food was good, the beer was cold, the waitress was hot- the perfect combination. It was already a great dinner, when the waitress asked if we wanted dessert. As she rattled off the list of possibilities, she ended with the “salted caramel cupcake, optional with or without bacon.”
She must have seen my eyes light up. I looked to Mr. Dimple for support, but he just laughed. “You want one,” she told me. “Salted caramel cupcake with bacon? Yes? Do it. You know you want to.” Now that is the kind of peer pressure I can get behind!
It was absolutely amazing. Sweet and savory and salty and greasy. The problem is, I now know there is such a delicious creature lurking just a few blocks away from my house.
When we got back to my place from dinner, I pointed out that my roommates were both gone. I seduced Mr. Dimple with the words, “I have condoms this time.” That was all it took.
Mr. Dimple likes to say that he hates the stereotype of Irish men having small penises (I'd never heard that as a stereotype, but okay.) I don't have the heart to tell him, though, that he doesn't exactly prove it wrong. Still, it's all in how you use it. The funnest (not funniest!) part is how long he orgasms. It goes on forever! By the end of it, I was giggling with the near absurdity of it. Most of his skill lies in the oral arts, though- and that's not a complaint. Every girl needs a guy who can blow her mind while he blows her....you know.
The show was great. Mr. Dimple and the Anarchist didn't really say anything to each other, but it didn't seem like either felt terribly awkward. I kept in mind that I was on a date with Mr. Dimple, though, so he was the one I showed affection to. My favorite part was when I (slightly drunkenly) tried to adjust my halter top. When I looked up, both of them did the quick eye-shift towards the ceiling. “You can look,” I told them, “you've both already seen them!”
Just like the last time he stayed the night, Mr. Dimple originally needed to get the car back to his girlfriend pretty early the next morning. In the middle of the show, though, she sent him a text. “I can take the train to work tomorrow,” it told him. “But she better be hot.” Now that is love!
He did spend the night, and since we weren't in a hurry when we got up the next morning, Mr. Dimple offered to make me breakfast. Scrambled eggs and toast- it's what I usually have, but it tastes even better when you have a cute guy making it for you. When he finally left in the late morning, my roommate pointed out that it was the latest a guy had ever stayed in the morning. The Dreamer used to have to get up ridiculously early for work, and last time Mr. Dimple was over he had to leave early, too. It's kind of nice to get an early start on the day, but sleeping in and having a lazy morning together definitely has its perks, too.
Was that rude of me to Mr. Dimple? Quite possibly. I know some guys who are okay with polyamory in the abstract don't want to be confronted with it in the form of meeting the Other Significant Others. There was no way I was going to un-invite Mr. Dimple, though, and the Anarchist seemed so bummed that he didn't have anyone to go to the show with.
Mr. Dimple came over to my house a few hours before the show. We'd planned to go out to dinner, but hadn't decided where, when he told me that he was in a sort of foul mood and that a “really good hamburger” would help. I knew just the place- the bar/restaurant down the street from me. The food was good, the beer was cold, the waitress was hot- the perfect combination. It was already a great dinner, when the waitress asked if we wanted dessert. As she rattled off the list of possibilities, she ended with the “salted caramel cupcake, optional with or without bacon.”
She must have seen my eyes light up. I looked to Mr. Dimple for support, but he just laughed. “You want one,” she told me. “Salted caramel cupcake with bacon? Yes? Do it. You know you want to.” Now that is the kind of peer pressure I can get behind!
It was absolutely amazing. Sweet and savory and salty and greasy. The problem is, I now know there is such a delicious creature lurking just a few blocks away from my house.
When we got back to my place from dinner, I pointed out that my roommates were both gone. I seduced Mr. Dimple with the words, “I have condoms this time.” That was all it took.
Mr. Dimple likes to say that he hates the stereotype of Irish men having small penises (I'd never heard that as a stereotype, but okay.) I don't have the heart to tell him, though, that he doesn't exactly prove it wrong. Still, it's all in how you use it. The funnest (not funniest!) part is how long he orgasms. It goes on forever! By the end of it, I was giggling with the near absurdity of it. Most of his skill lies in the oral arts, though- and that's not a complaint. Every girl needs a guy who can blow her mind while he blows her....you know.
The show was great. Mr. Dimple and the Anarchist didn't really say anything to each other, but it didn't seem like either felt terribly awkward. I kept in mind that I was on a date with Mr. Dimple, though, so he was the one I showed affection to. My favorite part was when I (slightly drunkenly) tried to adjust my halter top. When I looked up, both of them did the quick eye-shift towards the ceiling. “You can look,” I told them, “you've both already seen them!”
Just like the last time he stayed the night, Mr. Dimple originally needed to get the car back to his girlfriend pretty early the next morning. In the middle of the show, though, she sent him a text. “I can take the train to work tomorrow,” it told him. “But she better be hot.” Now that is love!
He did spend the night, and since we weren't in a hurry when we got up the next morning, Mr. Dimple offered to make me breakfast. Scrambled eggs and toast- it's what I usually have, but it tastes even better when you have a cute guy making it for you. When he finally left in the late morning, my roommate pointed out that it was the latest a guy had ever stayed in the morning. The Dreamer used to have to get up ridiculously early for work, and last time Mr. Dimple was over he had to leave early, too. It's kind of nice to get an early start on the day, but sleeping in and having a lazy morning together definitely has its perks, too.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Saturday- Knock on Wood
Saturday night was the third date with Mr. Dimple. When he discovered I had a Saturday night free, he asked, “can I have it?” with no specific plans in mind. A few days before our date, though, we were discussing our mutual love for bad scary movies, and that's when it hit me. A bad horror movie marathon!
He was supposed to come over at 4, but he texted me that he was running a little late. Me being Ms. Practical, I asked him how late, and would I have enough time for a quick shower? He said yes, so I got in. Right as I turned the water off and stepped out of the shower to dry myself off, though, my phone buzzed with a new text. He was outside.
“Ahhh!!” I yelled to my roommates. “He's here and I'm not ready!” One was already planning to take the dog outside, so she went out to meet him while I got threw on clothes as quickly as I could.
The first order of business was to go to the liquor store to pick up refreshments for our marathon. (It doesn't hurt that I love any excuse to go perusing through the microbrew section.) We ended up with a bottle of red wine- the color of blood, after all!- and a bottle of a Flemish red ale called Duchesse de Bourgogne. Incredible beer, by the way; I absolutely recommend it. When we got back, I threw together a curry for dinner and we flirted while I got more and more tipsy. Then we decided it was time to watch some movies.
The first one we put in was the original House on Haunted Hill. It was terrible, but that was kind of the point. We spent most of the time making MST3K-type comments and laughing. I also spent a good amount of my brain cycles admiring how comfortable he felt to sit next to.
Next was The Brain that Wouldn't Die. Now that is a classic piece of American cinema, let me tell you! I was laughing so hard by the end that I thought I was going to trigger an asthma attack. My roommates came home from dinner at the end of it and were cracking up just watching us crack up. It was fantastic.
As the movie came to an end, I turned towards Mr. Dimple; almost as if he read my mind, he pulled me onto his lap and we began making out furiously. He has this way of applying just the right amount of pressure when he puts his arms around me- it feels strong and secure without being uncomfortable or squeezing too much.
When we finally came up for air, I reminded him that I had dessert in the kitchen. “I'd rather have you,” he replied. That was exactly the right thing to say. We picked up our wine glasses and empty bowl of popcorn, I turned out the lights, and we headed upstairs.
Things progressed from there. When it got to the point we were in our underwear with him on top of me, I remembered- I was out of condoms.
It was bound to happen. With all my bragging on here about how prepared I am, I'd forgotten to go to the store after using the last one.
“It's okay,” he told me, as he stripped off my thong and worked his way down my body. It was more than okay, that's for sure.
When we were starting to fall asleep, he pulled me close to the heat of his body. It was perfect.
He had to leave early the next morning to get his car back because his live-in girlfriend needed it. I offered to make him breakfast before he went, though, and we chatted over eggs and toast and tea. When he left, he wrapped me up again in his strong embrace. That, I can never get enough of.
He was supposed to come over at 4, but he texted me that he was running a little late. Me being Ms. Practical, I asked him how late, and would I have enough time for a quick shower? He said yes, so I got in. Right as I turned the water off and stepped out of the shower to dry myself off, though, my phone buzzed with a new text. He was outside.
“Ahhh!!” I yelled to my roommates. “He's here and I'm not ready!” One was already planning to take the dog outside, so she went out to meet him while I got threw on clothes as quickly as I could.
The first order of business was to go to the liquor store to pick up refreshments for our marathon. (It doesn't hurt that I love any excuse to go perusing through the microbrew section.) We ended up with a bottle of red wine- the color of blood, after all!- and a bottle of a Flemish red ale called Duchesse de Bourgogne. Incredible beer, by the way; I absolutely recommend it. When we got back, I threw together a curry for dinner and we flirted while I got more and more tipsy. Then we decided it was time to watch some movies.
The first one we put in was the original House on Haunted Hill. It was terrible, but that was kind of the point. We spent most of the time making MST3K-type comments and laughing. I also spent a good amount of my brain cycles admiring how comfortable he felt to sit next to.
Next was The Brain that Wouldn't Die. Now that is a classic piece of American cinema, let me tell you! I was laughing so hard by the end that I thought I was going to trigger an asthma attack. My roommates came home from dinner at the end of it and were cracking up just watching us crack up. It was fantastic.
As the movie came to an end, I turned towards Mr. Dimple; almost as if he read my mind, he pulled me onto his lap and we began making out furiously. He has this way of applying just the right amount of pressure when he puts his arms around me- it feels strong and secure without being uncomfortable or squeezing too much.
When we finally came up for air, I reminded him that I had dessert in the kitchen. “I'd rather have you,” he replied. That was exactly the right thing to say. We picked up our wine glasses and empty bowl of popcorn, I turned out the lights, and we headed upstairs.
Things progressed from there. When it got to the point we were in our underwear with him on top of me, I remembered- I was out of condoms.
It was bound to happen. With all my bragging on here about how prepared I am, I'd forgotten to go to the store after using the last one.
“It's okay,” he told me, as he stripped off my thong and worked his way down my body. It was more than okay, that's for sure.
When we were starting to fall asleep, he pulled me close to the heat of his body. It was perfect.
He had to leave early the next morning to get his car back because his live-in girlfriend needed it. I offered to make him breakfast before he went, though, and we chatted over eggs and toast and tea. When he left, he wrapped me up again in his strong embrace. That, I can never get enough of.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Sunday- To be, or not to be a Girlfriend
Sunday afternoon, the Dreamer came back over to help me assemble all the furniture we'd bought at Ikea the day before. It was amazing how well we worked together! I'm not used to working with competent people when it comes to assembly directions, that much was clear. After getting past my initial desire to bark orders at him, we worked pretty well as a team.
Watching a man get sweaty working with his hands threw my libido into overdrive, and I was barely able to wait until we were done with the assembly before dragging the Dreamer back to my bedroom. Strangely, it was almost a repeat of the day before- all oral, no actual sex. I'll tell you what, though, I am a lucky girl to have that problem. I've known too many men in my life that refused to go down on a woman- I'm making up for lost time. He finished on my chest (that's right, I went there!) and I was SHOCKED. I had to ask him, “is it this much every time??” Now I understand why he comes for so long.
When we were lying in bed afterwards, I brought back up the topic of not calling me his girlfriend. I apologized for getting so upset the day before that he hadn't told the new girl about me, and said I'd try to keep in mind that this is a totally new situation for him. I think my understanding in that situation was what allowed him to open up about what was really bothering him- having me be his girlfriend.
The way he explained it, while he is on board with polyamory in theory, it is hard for him to move past his preconceived notions of what a girlfriend should be. “If I have a girlfriend, I shouldn't be out with this other girl. Or if I am out with this other girl, than I don't really have a girlfriend. Or I have one, but I'm cheating on her. No matter what, it isn't good,” he told me.
“But you're happy in our relationship otherwise?” I asked.
“Very,” he said.
“Well then, I just won't be your girlfriend.”
He made me assure him that I was really okay with that, and I think I was. The more I thought about it afterwards, though, the more I had to wonder how much was about him being uncomfortable seeing other women while he has a girlfriend, and how much was just him being uncomfortable telling other women that he's seeing that he has a girlfriend. I still don't know the answer to that question, and I don't know how much it really matters at the core.
Regardless, the situation has me re-evaluating what being “boyfriend/girlfriend” really means to me. Is it about moving towards an eventual marriage? Wanting to move in together? Progress toward some end goal?
I don't know the answer to that, to be completely frank. I do know that the label holds some importance to me, but not necessarily in that I want to marry everybody who I want to be bf/gf with. For me, I think it's more that it is a place of honor- you aren't just one of the rabble that I'm dating, you're my boyfriend. It denotes a seriousness of the relationship, even if not in the monogamy/future marriage type of way. I think that to me it does signify a desire for intimacy and partnership, and even for a long-term relationship. I just don't subscribe to the notion that such a partnership has to end in marriage for it to have been worthwhile.
I'm a planner, and I always have been. It's just another of my conflicting gemini personality traits- I like to have very planned outlines, but fill in the middle spontaneously. Was it too early to think long-term with the Dreamer? Of course. But that didn't stop me from doing it.
He even addressed this when we were talking, when he told me that he knows I have certain big goals that I would potentially like him to be involved in, namely having kids. He said that he wants to know if it gets to the point where he needs to put up on those or move aside so someone else can fill that need for me, which I think was honorable, though a bit selfish. Basically it came across as “let me know at the very last minute so I can decide if it's something I'm willing to do.” Still, it's better than nothing. I'm happy with our relationship right now, no matter if it has a label or not.
Watching a man get sweaty working with his hands threw my libido into overdrive, and I was barely able to wait until we were done with the assembly before dragging the Dreamer back to my bedroom. Strangely, it was almost a repeat of the day before- all oral, no actual sex. I'll tell you what, though, I am a lucky girl to have that problem. I've known too many men in my life that refused to go down on a woman- I'm making up for lost time. He finished on my chest (that's right, I went there!) and I was SHOCKED. I had to ask him, “is it this much every time??” Now I understand why he comes for so long.
When we were lying in bed afterwards, I brought back up the topic of not calling me his girlfriend. I apologized for getting so upset the day before that he hadn't told the new girl about me, and said I'd try to keep in mind that this is a totally new situation for him. I think my understanding in that situation was what allowed him to open up about what was really bothering him- having me be his girlfriend.
The way he explained it, while he is on board with polyamory in theory, it is hard for him to move past his preconceived notions of what a girlfriend should be. “If I have a girlfriend, I shouldn't be out with this other girl. Or if I am out with this other girl, than I don't really have a girlfriend. Or I have one, but I'm cheating on her. No matter what, it isn't good,” he told me.
“But you're happy in our relationship otherwise?” I asked.
“Very,” he said.
“Well then, I just won't be your girlfriend.”
He made me assure him that I was really okay with that, and I think I was. The more I thought about it afterwards, though, the more I had to wonder how much was about him being uncomfortable seeing other women while he has a girlfriend, and how much was just him being uncomfortable telling other women that he's seeing that he has a girlfriend. I still don't know the answer to that question, and I don't know how much it really matters at the core.
Regardless, the situation has me re-evaluating what being “boyfriend/girlfriend” really means to me. Is it about moving towards an eventual marriage? Wanting to move in together? Progress toward some end goal?
I don't know the answer to that, to be completely frank. I do know that the label holds some importance to me, but not necessarily in that I want to marry everybody who I want to be bf/gf with. For me, I think it's more that it is a place of honor- you aren't just one of the rabble that I'm dating, you're my boyfriend. It denotes a seriousness of the relationship, even if not in the monogamy/future marriage type of way. I think that to me it does signify a desire for intimacy and partnership, and even for a long-term relationship. I just don't subscribe to the notion that such a partnership has to end in marriage for it to have been worthwhile.
I'm a planner, and I always have been. It's just another of my conflicting gemini personality traits- I like to have very planned outlines, but fill in the middle spontaneously. Was it too early to think long-term with the Dreamer? Of course. But that didn't stop me from doing it.
He even addressed this when we were talking, when he told me that he knows I have certain big goals that I would potentially like him to be involved in, namely having kids. He said that he wants to know if it gets to the point where he needs to put up on those or move aside so someone else can fill that need for me, which I think was honorable, though a bit selfish. Basically it came across as “let me know at the very last minute so I can decide if it's something I'm willing to do.” Still, it's better than nothing. I'm happy with our relationship right now, no matter if it has a label or not.
Saturday pt 1- I'm "The Hot Chick He's Seeing"
Saturday afternoon, one of my roommates was having a party to celebrate a big event in her life- her conversion to Judaism (Mazel Tov!!) She made sure to invite the Dreamer, since he's “her favorite.” He came over for the party and chatted with people for a while- I was very impressed with him, especially since he's usually shy around people he doesn't know. As things started to wind down, I asked if he would go to Ikea with me to buy furniture for my new office. He has a truck and big muscles- two vital ingredients in furniture shopping.
While on the way there, I brought up the topic of his first date with a new girl. This was also the first date he's gone on since we got together, so I was most interested in how he handled telling her about our dating situation. Much to my chagrin, he hadn't.
“Did you tell her you had a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Did you at least tell her you are seeing someone?”
“No.”
I sat in a rather stony silence for a few minutes, before pointing out the obvious- “you have to tell her.”
“I will,” he assured me, “I just have to figure out how to do it.”
I tried not to freak out. After all, this is a new situation for him. In general, non-poly people try to hide the fact that they're in another relationship when they're dating someone, not be open and upfront about it. But as I ranted about in my post when I was the other woman with the Blues Man, it is absolutely vital to me that everyone know what is going on; a poly relationship (or any relationship, really) can't survive without open communication and honesty.
When I simmered down a bit from the initial shock, I asked him, “do you generally refer to me as your girlfriend when you're talking to people?”
“No,” he admitted.
“So what do you say?”
“Usually just the hot chick I'm seeing.”
Now, as far as titles go, I suppose that is one I can live with. But what's the point of being boyfriend and girlfriend if you don't want to tell people about it? I went through a long relationship where the guy was very hesitant to tell anyone about it- even his family- not because he was afraid of how they'd react, but just because he didn't like the feeling of them being “in his business.” I couldn't stand it; it made me feel hidden, which led to worries of his unhappiness in the relationship and my inadequacy.
I know that these are my issues, not the Dreamer's, but if you're going to date someone, you also have to in some part date their baggage. I explained this to him, and he said he understood and wasn't trying to hide me. It still put a damper on the trip, though.
While on the way there, I brought up the topic of his first date with a new girl. This was also the first date he's gone on since we got together, so I was most interested in how he handled telling her about our dating situation. Much to my chagrin, he hadn't.
“Did you tell her you had a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Did you at least tell her you are seeing someone?”
“No.”
I sat in a rather stony silence for a few minutes, before pointing out the obvious- “you have to tell her.”
“I will,” he assured me, “I just have to figure out how to do it.”
I tried not to freak out. After all, this is a new situation for him. In general, non-poly people try to hide the fact that they're in another relationship when they're dating someone, not be open and upfront about it. But as I ranted about in my post when I was the other woman with the Blues Man, it is absolutely vital to me that everyone know what is going on; a poly relationship (or any relationship, really) can't survive without open communication and honesty.
When I simmered down a bit from the initial shock, I asked him, “do you generally refer to me as your girlfriend when you're talking to people?”
“No,” he admitted.
“So what do you say?”
“Usually just the hot chick I'm seeing.”
Now, as far as titles go, I suppose that is one I can live with. But what's the point of being boyfriend and girlfriend if you don't want to tell people about it? I went through a long relationship where the guy was very hesitant to tell anyone about it- even his family- not because he was afraid of how they'd react, but just because he didn't like the feeling of them being “in his business.” I couldn't stand it; it made me feel hidden, which led to worries of his unhappiness in the relationship and my inadequacy.
I know that these are my issues, not the Dreamer's, but if you're going to date someone, you also have to in some part date their baggage. I explained this to him, and he said he understood and wasn't trying to hide me. It still put a damper on the trip, though.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Weekend of Canceled Plans
I was supposed to have a party Saturday night, but it was canceled at the last minute. Instead, the Dreamer came over to hang out for a while. We didn't feel like going out anywhere and I wasn't up for cooking, so we ordered a pizza. Then we sat on the couch and watched a House marathon. I ended up falling asleep on him before he finally decided to go to bed. At least this time he actually stayed through the night.
The next day, the Diplomat and I had plans to go sailing. The thing about sailing, though, is that it requires the cooperation of the weather. When it was realized that there was going to be no way that we could sail (no wind = no sailing, who knew?), we decided to go run some errands and pick up things that he needed for his new house.
There was only one problem with that plan- we'd forgotten that it was Easter Sunday. Nothing was open. We were finally faced with the choice of finding something to do or giving up and going home when I suggested a Vietnamese restaurant near my house. I figured Chinese places are always opened on Christmas Eve, so maybe Vietnamese would be open on Easter. I was right!
Over dinner, I brought up a topic that had been bothering me since the night of the Diplomat's birthday party. The guy who had uncomfortably cornered me earlier in the night had said something interesting later at the second bar. He had asked about polyamory, and what that meant. After I explained it, he looked me straight in the eyes and said, “you know the Diplomat isn't okay with this, right?”
Now, I don't think anybody else could speak for the Diplomat, but it was completely possible that his friend knew him better than I did. So I asked him about it.
“I consider this the experimental phase in my life,” he told me. I'm still not quite sure how to take that- is he saying that he is okay with polyamory now, but won't be later? That it's only a “phase” for him? It's okay if that's the case, I suppose- it's not that I have plans to marry him and have babies- but it's just the first true example I've seen of someone using polyamory as an experiment, rather than a choice that was carefully come to after lots of deliberation and self-searching.
The Diplomat took me home after dinner, with the promise that next time, we'd make sure it wasn't Easter Sunday when we went out.
The next day, the Diplomat and I had plans to go sailing. The thing about sailing, though, is that it requires the cooperation of the weather. When it was realized that there was going to be no way that we could sail (no wind = no sailing, who knew?), we decided to go run some errands and pick up things that he needed for his new house.
There was only one problem with that plan- we'd forgotten that it was Easter Sunday. Nothing was open. We were finally faced with the choice of finding something to do or giving up and going home when I suggested a Vietnamese restaurant near my house. I figured Chinese places are always opened on Christmas Eve, so maybe Vietnamese would be open on Easter. I was right!
Over dinner, I brought up a topic that had been bothering me since the night of the Diplomat's birthday party. The guy who had uncomfortably cornered me earlier in the night had said something interesting later at the second bar. He had asked about polyamory, and what that meant. After I explained it, he looked me straight in the eyes and said, “you know the Diplomat isn't okay with this, right?”
Now, I don't think anybody else could speak for the Diplomat, but it was completely possible that his friend knew him better than I did. So I asked him about it.
“I consider this the experimental phase in my life,” he told me. I'm still not quite sure how to take that- is he saying that he is okay with polyamory now, but won't be later? That it's only a “phase” for him? It's okay if that's the case, I suppose- it's not that I have plans to marry him and have babies- but it's just the first true example I've seen of someone using polyamory as an experiment, rather than a choice that was carefully come to after lots of deliberation and self-searching.
The Diplomat took me home after dinner, with the promise that next time, we'd make sure it wasn't Easter Sunday when we went out.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Friday pt 1.5- Relationship Negotiations
Normally I try to keep events in this blog in chronological order, but I think it's important to resolve the ones left at the end of my last post.
The Blues Man and I kept texting throughout the weekend, mostly back to flirting and discussing random topics. He had promised to tell his girlfriend about what had happened between us, though, and I wasn't going to let him forget it. He texted me Tuesday afternoon saying that he'd done it.
From what I could piece together from his texts, she was understandably not very happy about it. I got the impression that she was feeling betrayed, even though they'd ostensibly agreed before that they were allowed to date other people. But being given theoretical permission and acting upon it are two very different creatures.
In the end she told him that we could date, but not have sex.
A few minutes after that text, I got another one from him asking if he could call. I was in an office full of our classmates, so I had to step out to talk. He said he was still discussing things with his girlfriend, and she wanted to know what “dating” meant. I very eloquently explained that to me, dating is “hanging out and having fun and stuff.” “You know to her that's going to mean sex,” he pointed out.
“If she says we can't have sex, we won't have sex,” I assured him. “But that doesn't mean I'm happy about it.” That's when I got on my polyamory soapbox.
I am all for guidelines of safety (e.g. no sex without a condom, no sex until you've both been tested, etc.). I even understand guidelines of comfort (e.g. I want to meet the other person, if you think things are getting serious between you and your Other Significant Other you have to tell me, if I have serious concerns about your OSO you have to give them honest consideration, etc.). What I don't understand are artificial limitations on what kinds of things can develop between two people. Those things can't be controlled.
So, let's look at examples.
Guy A, who you may recognize as the Linguist, is married and has 2 kids. He and his wife have an agreement that they can both date whoever they like. The only rule is that they are not allowed to date people who wish to break up their original relationship. If I started talking about him leaving his wife, for example, it is his responsibility to end things with me. That is totally fair, if you ask me.
Guy B, obviously the Blues Man, is in a long-term relationship with a woman. She agreed to allow him to date other people, but on the provision that he is not allowed to sleep with them. The reason she doesn't want him to sleep with anyone else is because she feels it would make that relationship as important to Guy B as his relationship with her is.
Now, Guy B's parameters are completely artificial. No rules can control what feelings develop between two people, and the decision to have sex should be made between the two of them as to its appropriateness and timing. I'm not saying the original partner shouldn't have some influence, but to have the complete decision-making power on this is absurd.
If you were an outside partner entering into a relationship with these men, which would you rather be in? The one where you're allowed to have an actual relationship that develops as it will, or the one where you have to constantly worry that you're breaking the rules set by his other partner? Or even worse, that the rules will change without you being able to have any input in them?
Now in this case, I'm really interested in dating the Blues Man. If I wasn't, I'd just say screw it, it's not worth it. I don't want to pretend that I'm fully okay with this, though, and I let him know it. If I have to operate within her rules to date him, I will. But this is definitely the exception for me, not the rule.
The Blues Man and I kept texting throughout the weekend, mostly back to flirting and discussing random topics. He had promised to tell his girlfriend about what had happened between us, though, and I wasn't going to let him forget it. He texted me Tuesday afternoon saying that he'd done it.
From what I could piece together from his texts, she was understandably not very happy about it. I got the impression that she was feeling betrayed, even though they'd ostensibly agreed before that they were allowed to date other people. But being given theoretical permission and acting upon it are two very different creatures.
In the end she told him that we could date, but not have sex.
A few minutes after that text, I got another one from him asking if he could call. I was in an office full of our classmates, so I had to step out to talk. He said he was still discussing things with his girlfriend, and she wanted to know what “dating” meant. I very eloquently explained that to me, dating is “hanging out and having fun and stuff.” “You know to her that's going to mean sex,” he pointed out.
“If she says we can't have sex, we won't have sex,” I assured him. “But that doesn't mean I'm happy about it.” That's when I got on my polyamory soapbox.
I am all for guidelines of safety (e.g. no sex without a condom, no sex until you've both been tested, etc.). I even understand guidelines of comfort (e.g. I want to meet the other person, if you think things are getting serious between you and your Other Significant Other you have to tell me, if I have serious concerns about your OSO you have to give them honest consideration, etc.). What I don't understand are artificial limitations on what kinds of things can develop between two people. Those things can't be controlled.
So, let's look at examples.
Guy A, who you may recognize as the Linguist, is married and has 2 kids. He and his wife have an agreement that they can both date whoever they like. The only rule is that they are not allowed to date people who wish to break up their original relationship. If I started talking about him leaving his wife, for example, it is his responsibility to end things with me. That is totally fair, if you ask me.
Guy B, obviously the Blues Man, is in a long-term relationship with a woman. She agreed to allow him to date other people, but on the provision that he is not allowed to sleep with them. The reason she doesn't want him to sleep with anyone else is because she feels it would make that relationship as important to Guy B as his relationship with her is.
Now, Guy B's parameters are completely artificial. No rules can control what feelings develop between two people, and the decision to have sex should be made between the two of them as to its appropriateness and timing. I'm not saying the original partner shouldn't have some influence, but to have the complete decision-making power on this is absurd.
If you were an outside partner entering into a relationship with these men, which would you rather be in? The one where you're allowed to have an actual relationship that develops as it will, or the one where you have to constantly worry that you're breaking the rules set by his other partner? Or even worse, that the rules will change without you being able to have any input in them?
Now in this case, I'm really interested in dating the Blues Man. If I wasn't, I'd just say screw it, it's not worth it. I don't want to pretend that I'm fully okay with this, though, and I let him know it. If I have to operate within her rules to date him, I will. But this is definitely the exception for me, not the rule.
Friday pt 1- The Blues Man Falls from Grace
After staying up all night texting with the Blues Man, we decided to go out to breakfast. We live on opposite sites of town, so we met at a diner in the middle. That would have been a great idea, except that somehow we'd both forgotten it was Good Friday. Well actually, it's not surprising we'd forgotten, since neither of us is Catholic. But that's besides the point. The place was busy, but we still got a booth, sat down, and started talking.
Now, the Blues Man is Jewish, and it was during Passover. That meant no leavened bread for him. For those of you who don't know, leavened bread encompasses almost every type of bread there is- anything that's risen instead of being hard and flat like a cracker. So of course, I had to torture him by ordering banana pancakes. Mmm! When the waiter asked for the Blues Man's order, it was almost like a poorly written comedy sketch. “Cheese?” “No cheese.” “What kind of toast?” “No toast.”
Poor guy. Going to a diner during Passover must be like dying of thirst in the middle of the ocean.
We sat at that booth for three hours, talking about nothing and everything. We discussed religion, politics, gossip about our classmates- all those “taboo” topics that you're not supposed to touch. And surprisingly, we got along on almost all of them! It even turns out that we're studying different aspects of the same event!
Breakfast went so amazingly well that I jumped at the chance to continue it by going to his apartment to hang out. We ended up (no surprise) laying on his bed and making out while listening to music. It was a total throwback to high school, except for the part where you had to worry about your parents catching you. Ah, the joys of being an adult- ice cream for breakfast, pizza three times a week, and making out on your bed without fear of being in trouble. We're both huge flirts, though, so conversation quickly moved into doing something more than just making out.
After another couple hours of teasing, touching, and kissing, things started to progress. The Blues Man has a big, bushy, 1970s-style beard, which he had been telling me the night before is great for increasing certain, shall we say, pleasurable activities. I'm not going to insist that every man I date grow one, but I will admit, it added a nice dimension to things. You know how a bit of facial hair makes kissing more fun? Well apparently a lot of facial hair makes other types of kissing more fun, too.
I'm not ashamed to say that by this point, I was practically begging to get to the next step, but the Blues Man kept laughing and saying there was no rush. “True, but I still want it!” I told him. “I can't just give it all up without a fight,” he replied. A master at the teasing, this one.
I did finally get my way. It was great, except for the pillow talk afterwards. You see, he had failed to mention that he has a girlfriend.
I was pissed. Not only did he fail to tell me this before we hooked up, or even before we kissed, or even before he agreed to go on a date with me, when it would have been MOST important, he tried to play it off like it was no big deal. If she was on board with this kind of thing and I wasn't interested in actually dating him, just hooking up, I might not have minded so much. But I'd made it pretty clear from the start that I wasn't looking for just a friend with benefits.
The situation was made even worse by the fact that apparently his “lady-friend” didn't know that he was going to be dating anybody else. He said they'd recently had a conversation about them both being allowed to, but that he hadn't actually done it yet. And they hadn't broached the topic at all of sleeping with other people.
Understandably, the mood was shattered. I didn't stick around too much longer after that, and I started texting him on my way home. First and foremost, I said, he had to tell her what had happened. If she was okay with it, I'd love to keep seeing him, but I couldn't do it in secrecy. I truly believe that the only way to have a good relationship is to be completely upfront with everyone involved. That goes double when there are multiple partners in the picture. He agreed that he would, but I'll be honest, I wasn't sure.
I finally resorted to calling my best girl friend and asking what she thought. She told me that if he wasn't willing to tell his girlfriend what happened and to not do something like that again, he wasn't the kind of guy I want to date. She's absolutely right, of course. There's a fine line between polyamory and cheating, and it's crossed as soon as you enter into secrecy.
Now, the Blues Man is Jewish, and it was during Passover. That meant no leavened bread for him. For those of you who don't know, leavened bread encompasses almost every type of bread there is- anything that's risen instead of being hard and flat like a cracker. So of course, I had to torture him by ordering banana pancakes. Mmm! When the waiter asked for the Blues Man's order, it was almost like a poorly written comedy sketch. “Cheese?” “No cheese.” “What kind of toast?” “No toast.”
Poor guy. Going to a diner during Passover must be like dying of thirst in the middle of the ocean.
We sat at that booth for three hours, talking about nothing and everything. We discussed religion, politics, gossip about our classmates- all those “taboo” topics that you're not supposed to touch. And surprisingly, we got along on almost all of them! It even turns out that we're studying different aspects of the same event!
Breakfast went so amazingly well that I jumped at the chance to continue it by going to his apartment to hang out. We ended up (no surprise) laying on his bed and making out while listening to music. It was a total throwback to high school, except for the part where you had to worry about your parents catching you. Ah, the joys of being an adult- ice cream for breakfast, pizza three times a week, and making out on your bed without fear of being in trouble. We're both huge flirts, though, so conversation quickly moved into doing something more than just making out.
After another couple hours of teasing, touching, and kissing, things started to progress. The Blues Man has a big, bushy, 1970s-style beard, which he had been telling me the night before is great for increasing certain, shall we say, pleasurable activities. I'm not going to insist that every man I date grow one, but I will admit, it added a nice dimension to things. You know how a bit of facial hair makes kissing more fun? Well apparently a lot of facial hair makes other types of kissing more fun, too.
I'm not ashamed to say that by this point, I was practically begging to get to the next step, but the Blues Man kept laughing and saying there was no rush. “True, but I still want it!” I told him. “I can't just give it all up without a fight,” he replied. A master at the teasing, this one.
I did finally get my way. It was great, except for the pillow talk afterwards. You see, he had failed to mention that he has a girlfriend.
I was pissed. Not only did he fail to tell me this before we hooked up, or even before we kissed, or even before he agreed to go on a date with me, when it would have been MOST important, he tried to play it off like it was no big deal. If she was on board with this kind of thing and I wasn't interested in actually dating him, just hooking up, I might not have minded so much. But I'd made it pretty clear from the start that I wasn't looking for just a friend with benefits.
The situation was made even worse by the fact that apparently his “lady-friend” didn't know that he was going to be dating anybody else. He said they'd recently had a conversation about them both being allowed to, but that he hadn't actually done it yet. And they hadn't broached the topic at all of sleeping with other people.
Understandably, the mood was shattered. I didn't stick around too much longer after that, and I started texting him on my way home. First and foremost, I said, he had to tell her what had happened. If she was okay with it, I'd love to keep seeing him, but I couldn't do it in secrecy. I truly believe that the only way to have a good relationship is to be completely upfront with everyone involved. That goes double when there are multiple partners in the picture. He agreed that he would, but I'll be honest, I wasn't sure.
I finally resorted to calling my best girl friend and asking what she thought. She told me that if he wasn't willing to tell his girlfriend what happened and to not do something like that again, he wasn't the kind of guy I want to date. She's absolutely right, of course. There's a fine line between polyamory and cheating, and it's crossed as soon as you enter into secrecy.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Thursday- My Date with a Married Man
Thursday night was my first date with the Linguist. No, he's not a Cunning Linguist...or maybe he is, and I just don't know it yet. He was a translator with the Army, though, and he “speaks” an astounding number of computer programming languages, so it's a fitting title.
Now, the Linguist is a happily married father of two. No, he's not cheating on his wife. They have a polyamorous relationship, even though they're married. Before agreeing to go out with him, I asked what kind of rules or arrangement they have regarding their relationship. He told me that they don't really put rules on other relationships, which I like, but the main thing is that he doesn't date women who want him to leave his wife, and she doesn't date men who do the same. They are committed to each other, even though they have other relationships.
When the Linguist first messaged me on the dating site, I initially turned him down. He had sent such a well thought-out letter, though, that I didn't want to leave him hanging. Instead, I sent him a quick note thanking him for messaging me but saying that at almost 40, he's outside of my comfort zone. A few days later, though, I reconsidered. It's not so much that I thought he would be too old, but that the last couple relationships I've had with older guys didn't end well. Still, he seemed nice and funny, so I emailed him again saying I'd like to meet.
The Linguist lives south of the city, while I live in the northern part. It was very sweet when he offered to come up to my neighborhood to go out instead of acting put out that he would have to travel so far. He professed a love for Indian food in his profile, so we decided on a place that I'd gone a couple times before. It was really cute when he walked in and I was already seated at a table. He waved and grinned. When he got to the table I had to ask him, “what if you were just waving at some random person?” That's totally something that would happen to me.
Dinner went great. We had a few pauses in conversation, as can be expected on a first date, but they were never awkward or uncomfortable. He let me try a bite of his food, but I teased him that I wasn't going to let him have any of mine. He kept inching closer to me throughout the night, and by the time we were ready for the check, we were holding hands across the table.
After he paid the bill, he asked if I'd be interested in walking around the neighborhood. It's a great place to do that- lots of little shops and restaurants. We stopped by his car first to put his leftovers up, and when he turned around from putting them on the seat, he wrapped his arms around me, pulled me close, and took my breath away with a passionate kiss.
Based on that, he probably is a cunning linguist.
We walked over to the bookstore holding hands. We are both book fiends, so it was fun walking around, giving each other recommendations and making fun of others. Apparently his tween-aged daughter is obsessed with Twilight (of course), and he read the books for her. How sweet is that? We both ended up buying a couple books, which is surprisingly restrained for me, including him getting one for his wife. That spawned a conversation about being married while polyamorous.
“Most of our friends don't get it,” he said. “They ask, 'you go on dates with other people? And you sometimes talk about your wife with them?' Of course I talk about my wife- she's a major part of my life!”
He also told me that his daughter is aware of their polyamory. “It's not a big deal to her. We didn't make a big thing of it, so she doesn't either.” I think that's a really cool way to go about it.
After the bookstore, he walked me back to my car. A goodbye kiss turned into a goodbye makeout session next to my car, and after several tries we finally stopped long enough for me to get in my car and go. We already have plans for another date in a couple weeks, after he gets back from a business trip. I'm definitely glad I took the chance and went out with him.
Now, the Linguist is a happily married father of two. No, he's not cheating on his wife. They have a polyamorous relationship, even though they're married. Before agreeing to go out with him, I asked what kind of rules or arrangement they have regarding their relationship. He told me that they don't really put rules on other relationships, which I like, but the main thing is that he doesn't date women who want him to leave his wife, and she doesn't date men who do the same. They are committed to each other, even though they have other relationships.
When the Linguist first messaged me on the dating site, I initially turned him down. He had sent such a well thought-out letter, though, that I didn't want to leave him hanging. Instead, I sent him a quick note thanking him for messaging me but saying that at almost 40, he's outside of my comfort zone. A few days later, though, I reconsidered. It's not so much that I thought he would be too old, but that the last couple relationships I've had with older guys didn't end well. Still, he seemed nice and funny, so I emailed him again saying I'd like to meet.
The Linguist lives south of the city, while I live in the northern part. It was very sweet when he offered to come up to my neighborhood to go out instead of acting put out that he would have to travel so far. He professed a love for Indian food in his profile, so we decided on a place that I'd gone a couple times before. It was really cute when he walked in and I was already seated at a table. He waved and grinned. When he got to the table I had to ask him, “what if you were just waving at some random person?” That's totally something that would happen to me.
Dinner went great. We had a few pauses in conversation, as can be expected on a first date, but they were never awkward or uncomfortable. He let me try a bite of his food, but I teased him that I wasn't going to let him have any of mine. He kept inching closer to me throughout the night, and by the time we were ready for the check, we were holding hands across the table.
After he paid the bill, he asked if I'd be interested in walking around the neighborhood. It's a great place to do that- lots of little shops and restaurants. We stopped by his car first to put his leftovers up, and when he turned around from putting them on the seat, he wrapped his arms around me, pulled me close, and took my breath away with a passionate kiss.
Based on that, he probably is a cunning linguist.
We walked over to the bookstore holding hands. We are both book fiends, so it was fun walking around, giving each other recommendations and making fun of others. Apparently his tween-aged daughter is obsessed with Twilight (of course), and he read the books for her. How sweet is that? We both ended up buying a couple books, which is surprisingly restrained for me, including him getting one for his wife. That spawned a conversation about being married while polyamorous.
“Most of our friends don't get it,” he said. “They ask, 'you go on dates with other people? And you sometimes talk about your wife with them?' Of course I talk about my wife- she's a major part of my life!”
He also told me that his daughter is aware of their polyamory. “It's not a big deal to her. We didn't make a big thing of it, so she doesn't either.” I think that's a really cool way to go about it.
After the bookstore, he walked me back to my car. A goodbye kiss turned into a goodbye makeout session next to my car, and after several tries we finally stopped long enough for me to get in my car and go. We already have plans for another date in a couple weeks, after he gets back from a business trip. I'm definitely glad I took the chance and went out with him.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Friday- Stripper Heels
Friday night the Dreamer came over for dinner. After our conversation on Wednesday when he told me that pizza was the healthiest thing he'd eaten all week, I'd offered up a standing invitation to come over whenever I make dinner. He'd originally had a date planned with another girl for Friday night, but when that fell through I got a text from him, “When's dinner?”
I love to cook. I love all different kinds of foods, especially those with “exotic” spices, so I am constantly experimenting with new recipes. This time it was a peanut sauce for stir fry over noodles. Both the Dreamer and I are peanut butter fiends, so it was the perfect choice. Unfortunately for the Dreamer, though, I cook mostly vegetarian, so my response to “when's dinner?” was “how do you feel about tofu?” Unsurprisingly, he wasn't enthused about that idea. To compromise, I made tofu for mine and gave him a chicken breast to cook for his. Relationships are all about give and take, you know!
After dinner we started watching a movie, but abandoned it about halfway through in favor of going up to my bedroom. While making out, he asked what kinds of toys I had to play with.
Music to my ears.
I'd recently invested in some stripper clothes and 6-inch heels. Now, I don't know any man who would object to his girlfriend, or any woman really, putting on stripper clothes and dancing for him. Amirite? They're not really a toy, per se, but still something fun to spice things up. So I got dressed up, wiggled around a bit, and practically purred when he looked me in the eye and said “I'm going to take you.”
Sex is hotter in stripper heels.
While we were cuddling afterwards, we started talking. I've been telling him recently how much I like him (spoiler: it's a LOT), but he hasn't really been saying that same. Being a woman, that makes me nervous. Being a rational woman, I asked him about it instead of jumping to conclusions.
“Of course I like you,” he said. “If I didn't, I wouldn't be with you.”
Good point. I'm learning that the Dreamer is just not comfortable verbalizing his feelings. Instead of hearing him say things like “I like you,” I feel it, like when he pulls me close while spooning. I'm still getting used to it, but I think it's important to remind myself that I don't have to hear him say the words for him to “really” mean it. I've encountered that problem with boyfriends in the past- it wasn't enough for them to show me, I had to hear them say it. Of course I'm not going to let him off the hook of ever saying it, but it doesn't have to be as constant as my emotions tell me it should be.
We also had another discussion about polyamory that night. I'm pretty open in talking to him about the guys I'm dating and the things we do, but I wanted to make sure that's okay with him. He said he doesn't mind hearing about it. Next I asked him if he was still okay with me dating other people.
“Yeah. I mean, as long as I'm your main one, you know.”
“You are. You're my 'primary,' my main squeeze. That's why I asked you to be my boyfriend. It doesn't mean I like you more or better than the other guys I'm dating, just that I like you different. I can imagine a future with you; it's more than just dating for 'fun'.”
“Mmm. I like that,” he told me.
It was a good way to end the night.
I love to cook. I love all different kinds of foods, especially those with “exotic” spices, so I am constantly experimenting with new recipes. This time it was a peanut sauce for stir fry over noodles. Both the Dreamer and I are peanut butter fiends, so it was the perfect choice. Unfortunately for the Dreamer, though, I cook mostly vegetarian, so my response to “when's dinner?” was “how do you feel about tofu?” Unsurprisingly, he wasn't enthused about that idea. To compromise, I made tofu for mine and gave him a chicken breast to cook for his. Relationships are all about give and take, you know!
After dinner we started watching a movie, but abandoned it about halfway through in favor of going up to my bedroom. While making out, he asked what kinds of toys I had to play with.
Music to my ears.
I'd recently invested in some stripper clothes and 6-inch heels. Now, I don't know any man who would object to his girlfriend, or any woman really, putting on stripper clothes and dancing for him. Amirite? They're not really a toy, per se, but still something fun to spice things up. So I got dressed up, wiggled around a bit, and practically purred when he looked me in the eye and said “I'm going to take you.”
Sex is hotter in stripper heels.
While we were cuddling afterwards, we started talking. I've been telling him recently how much I like him (spoiler: it's a LOT), but he hasn't really been saying that same. Being a woman, that makes me nervous. Being a rational woman, I asked him about it instead of jumping to conclusions.
“Of course I like you,” he said. “If I didn't, I wouldn't be with you.”
Good point. I'm learning that the Dreamer is just not comfortable verbalizing his feelings. Instead of hearing him say things like “I like you,” I feel it, like when he pulls me close while spooning. I'm still getting used to it, but I think it's important to remind myself that I don't have to hear him say the words for him to “really” mean it. I've encountered that problem with boyfriends in the past- it wasn't enough for them to show me, I had to hear them say it. Of course I'm not going to let him off the hook of ever saying it, but it doesn't have to be as constant as my emotions tell me it should be.
We also had another discussion about polyamory that night. I'm pretty open in talking to him about the guys I'm dating and the things we do, but I wanted to make sure that's okay with him. He said he doesn't mind hearing about it. Next I asked him if he was still okay with me dating other people.
“Yeah. I mean, as long as I'm your main one, you know.”
“You are. You're my 'primary,' my main squeeze. That's why I asked you to be my boyfriend. It doesn't mean I like you more or better than the other guys I'm dating, just that I like you different. I can imagine a future with you; it's more than just dating for 'fun'.”
“Mmm. I like that,” he told me.
It was a good way to end the night.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Monday- My Turn to Buy Dinner
Last week, I finally got a paycheck that I had been waiting on for far too long. It was to the point of eating those random things left in the fridge and pantry rather than going to the grocery store. As you can probably guess, that meant I didn't have a lot of money to be spending on dates.
When I'm dating someone who has a steady job, it's always nice of them to offer to pay, and I almost always accept. Every once in a while, though, I feel the need to flex my feminist muscle and do the paying myself. So yesterday, when my check cleared and I had a comfortable cushion in my bank account again, the first thing I did was call up the Dreamer and ask him out to dinner.
We went out to dinner at a casual bar/restaurant just down the street from me. People keep recommending it to me when they find out where I live, so I had pretty high expectations. The food was good, the beer was great, but the service...well, it was rather lackluster. It was my first chance to see how the Dreamer reacted to a bad waiter- some people get really rude and catty about it, others are pushovers. He's right in between; he made a comment that he was glad I was in charge of tipping, reminded the waiter about my drink that I was waiting for, and that was all.
We were at a table in the corner, which made it easier for us to talk. As easy as it can be in a bar restaurant, at least. In other words, we were able to hear each other without shouting. That was good, since I'm sure if people heard our conversation, they'd be really confused. The Dreamer had something important to tell me, and he was really nervous about it.
His news? That he has a date with another girl this week. His nervousness was palpable; fidgeting, not looking me in the eye. It was clear he was unsure how I'd react.
I think my response really surprised him. I said, “great!”
“Really?”
“Of course! Why would that bother me?”
“Well, this is just not at all what I'm used to.”
Of course, that's perfectly understandable. Our society teaches us to be jealous and reproachful of others as they interact with our significant others. To me, though, my boyfriend dating another person doesn't mean he likes me any less. I date other people, but I don't like him any less. My only request was that he let me know if he's dating someone, but he's welcome to give me as much or as little detail beyond that as he is comfortable with.
We also discussed PDA. I'm a big fan of mild PDA- hugging, kissing, handholding; not so much making out and grinding on each other. As such, I'm a very touchy-feely person. If I'm talking to you, chances are I'll reach out and touch your arm. If I'm dating you, I'll almost certainly kiss your cheek or take your hand fairly often. The Dreamer, as he explained, is used to women doing that as a way to mark their territory. I'd never thought of it that way, but it makes sense- it's a nonverbal way of saying “back off ladies, he's mine.” That isn't at all my intent, though. I just do it because I like the person I'm with.
We also had a talk about sex toys. I LOVE toys. Not every time, of course, but I think they're a lot of fun. Too many guys are intimidated by the idea of women using a toy in bed; they internalize it as a critique on their sexual ability. That isn't the case, though! When used by partners, they're a great way to enhance the experience for both people. I think the key is to talk about them openly, and find something that both people are comfortable with and enjoy. By getting rid of the taboo and addressing any fears of inadequacy, I think a lot more guys would be open to them.
So, last night was fun. I slept hard, though- I didn't even wake up when the Dreamer got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. That tells me that I'm getting comfortable sleeping with him, which is a really good feeling. Of course it sucked when I had to get up at 5 this morning to get some work done before class while he slept in for another hour. He's so cute when he's sleeping, though, I can't complain too much.
I'm going to the west coast this weekend to present at a conference, so it's going to be a sparse weekend for dating.
When I'm dating someone who has a steady job, it's always nice of them to offer to pay, and I almost always accept. Every once in a while, though, I feel the need to flex my feminist muscle and do the paying myself. So yesterday, when my check cleared and I had a comfortable cushion in my bank account again, the first thing I did was call up the Dreamer and ask him out to dinner.
We went out to dinner at a casual bar/restaurant just down the street from me. People keep recommending it to me when they find out where I live, so I had pretty high expectations. The food was good, the beer was great, but the service...well, it was rather lackluster. It was my first chance to see how the Dreamer reacted to a bad waiter- some people get really rude and catty about it, others are pushovers. He's right in between; he made a comment that he was glad I was in charge of tipping, reminded the waiter about my drink that I was waiting for, and that was all.
We were at a table in the corner, which made it easier for us to talk. As easy as it can be in a bar restaurant, at least. In other words, we were able to hear each other without shouting. That was good, since I'm sure if people heard our conversation, they'd be really confused. The Dreamer had something important to tell me, and he was really nervous about it.
His news? That he has a date with another girl this week. His nervousness was palpable; fidgeting, not looking me in the eye. It was clear he was unsure how I'd react.
I think my response really surprised him. I said, “great!”
“Really?”
“Of course! Why would that bother me?”
“Well, this is just not at all what I'm used to.”
Of course, that's perfectly understandable. Our society teaches us to be jealous and reproachful of others as they interact with our significant others. To me, though, my boyfriend dating another person doesn't mean he likes me any less. I date other people, but I don't like him any less. My only request was that he let me know if he's dating someone, but he's welcome to give me as much or as little detail beyond that as he is comfortable with.
We also discussed PDA. I'm a big fan of mild PDA- hugging, kissing, handholding; not so much making out and grinding on each other. As such, I'm a very touchy-feely person. If I'm talking to you, chances are I'll reach out and touch your arm. If I'm dating you, I'll almost certainly kiss your cheek or take your hand fairly often. The Dreamer, as he explained, is used to women doing that as a way to mark their territory. I'd never thought of it that way, but it makes sense- it's a nonverbal way of saying “back off ladies, he's mine.” That isn't at all my intent, though. I just do it because I like the person I'm with.
We also had a talk about sex toys. I LOVE toys. Not every time, of course, but I think they're a lot of fun. Too many guys are intimidated by the idea of women using a toy in bed; they internalize it as a critique on their sexual ability. That isn't the case, though! When used by partners, they're a great way to enhance the experience for both people. I think the key is to talk about them openly, and find something that both people are comfortable with and enjoy. By getting rid of the taboo and addressing any fears of inadequacy, I think a lot more guys would be open to them.
So, last night was fun. I slept hard, though- I didn't even wake up when the Dreamer got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. That tells me that I'm getting comfortable sleeping with him, which is a really good feeling. Of course it sucked when I had to get up at 5 this morning to get some work done before class while he slept in for another hour. He's so cute when he's sleeping, though, I can't complain too much.
I'm going to the west coast this weekend to present at a conference, so it's going to be a sparse weekend for dating.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
What is polyamory?
Let's have a quick note on polyamory.
For starters, being poly is not all about sex. I don't like to go out and have sex with random people, nor do I have sex with everyone I date. When I say I'm poly, what I'm saying is that I like to be in a relationship with more than one person at a time. No, it's not the same as cheating. Everyone knows about it, I'm completely open with everyone I date that they're not the only person I'm seeing, and I of course have no problem with them also dating other people.
Polyamory isn't one size fits all. Some people like to form triads, where three people are all dating each other (Person A is dating B and C, while B and C are also dating). Other people like to set up primary and secondary relationships- your “main” person, maybe a spouse, and other people on the side. Some like to do a combination of these. I've found that I like to have one or two primary relationships and several secondary relationships. I see my primary people as being those I'm interested in having a future with, something more than just casual dating. Then I date other people, too; these are more for just having fun, getting to try new things, and they have the benefit of not feeling bogged down by the strong emotional connections that come from a serious relationship.
For starters, being poly is not all about sex. I don't like to go out and have sex with random people, nor do I have sex with everyone I date. When I say I'm poly, what I'm saying is that I like to be in a relationship with more than one person at a time. No, it's not the same as cheating. Everyone knows about it, I'm completely open with everyone I date that they're not the only person I'm seeing, and I of course have no problem with them also dating other people.
Polyamory isn't one size fits all. Some people like to form triads, where three people are all dating each other (Person A is dating B and C, while B and C are also dating). Other people like to set up primary and secondary relationships- your “main” person, maybe a spouse, and other people on the side. Some like to do a combination of these. I've found that I like to have one or two primary relationships and several secondary relationships. I see my primary people as being those I'm interested in having a future with, something more than just casual dating. Then I date other people, too; these are more for just having fun, getting to try new things, and they have the benefit of not feeling bogged down by the strong emotional connections that come from a serious relationship.
Friday, March 5, 2010
About me
First things first.
Bisexual polyamorous 20-something seeks fun people in a new city.
I just moved to a new city on the East coast two months ago. Since then, I've been a dating fiend. Ah, internet dating- you are the bread and butter of my social life. I love everything about internet dating- creating my profile, deciding which pictures to include, agonizing over whether my interests come off as witty or conceited. Then the fun part can really begin. I'm not one of those girls who waits around for a guy to message me; I actively search for and pursue men and women that I am interested in. Banter back and forth for a bit, maybe a quick phone call to weed out the Erkel-types, and away we go!
Since moving here, I've gone out with at least a dozen people. Some of them only lasted one date, others have hung in there for a while. Either way, each date becomes a story to tell. And this is where I'm going to tell it.
Bisexual polyamorous 20-something seeks fun people in a new city.
I just moved to a new city on the East coast two months ago. Since then, I've been a dating fiend. Ah, internet dating- you are the bread and butter of my social life. I love everything about internet dating- creating my profile, deciding which pictures to include, agonizing over whether my interests come off as witty or conceited. Then the fun part can really begin. I'm not one of those girls who waits around for a guy to message me; I actively search for and pursue men and women that I am interested in. Banter back and forth for a bit, maybe a quick phone call to weed out the Erkel-types, and away we go!
Since moving here, I've gone out with at least a dozen people. Some of them only lasted one date, others have hung in there for a while. Either way, each date becomes a story to tell. And this is where I'm going to tell it.
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