Posts Tagged ‘relationships

03
Apr
21

The Return of “Brad Pitt”

Is it weird to have a crush on someone that you are regularly shagging? Because I did. I had a crush on “1994 Brad Pitt from Legends of the Fall.” I have written about him a few times in the past in Friday Freak-outs, Flirtations, and Friskiness from March, 2013, Embracing the Unexpected (Firmly, With my Thighs,), I Don’t Often Get Nervous, and but…but…I wore Sexy Underwear and Shaved from the following month, and Brad Pitt Got Fat from October, 2013. His “designation” under the “old system” of naming people that I dated was “P29” – but the system was impersonal and flawed. First, it was hard to keep track of folks without a nickname. Secondly, people age. “P29” would be “P37” if I met him now. Nicknames like “Dancing Dr. Who” and “Teddy Bear Pirate” make it easier to follow. I once said that this guy showed up at my door with a leather hair tie looking like Brad Pitt from Legends of the Fall and the name stuck. He’s been “Brad Pitt” ever since – even when he’s looked more like Kevin Smith before he went vegan.

I really liked “Brad Pitt” and he was a regular hook-up for about a year or so. We had most excellent sex and, when he wasn’t aloof or in a “Pitt” of depression and despair from his PTSD, we had fantastic conversations, lots of common interests, and a remarkably similar world view.

I think I was a little bit in love with him.

I mean, just a little.

I recently responded to a question in a poly group about whether you have to be “in love” with each of your poly partners in order for it to “count” as “poly” or whether it would be considered “friends with benefits” if you weren’t. I’ve never really been a fan of labels, but basically, I feel like we have lots of different levels of friendship, affinity, attraction, common interests, etc with lots of different people. We can love them in different ways, and with different degrees of intensity. Different people meet different needs – that’s the whole point.

Anyway, it’s been a while, but I really liked Brad Pitt. I know that I was a low maintenance booty call for him, and that was really okay for me. I would occasionally see him near the beginning of my relationship with “Working Class Whimsy” and they knew about each other. But as things progressed with “Whimsy” “Brad” and I didn’t see much of each other. I assumed he was figuring his shit out, or maybe had gotten involved with someone – as I had. There was no drama or bullshit, we just sort of faded away from each other. I would occasionally think of him fondly and wish him well.

Then, after years of no contact, he popped up again a couple of months ago, on Facebook. I should be clear – we are not, nor were we ever Facebook friends. It was not that sort of relationship. (Plus, I generally don’t friend people that I date.) He and I mainly communicated by text. So, in the midst of a global pandemic, I get a message from someone using a slightly different nickname than the one that I knew him by, (both different from his real name, which I also know.)

So after about five years of no contact, he reached out and said:

                So, are you married or not?

His profile picture didn’t show his face, and the name was different. In the span of about 30 minutes, I did a complete social media creep on the dude and read about a year’s worth of posts. I soon found video and photographic evidence that it was him, but I already knew. Eventually I responded:

                Hey, it took me a few minutes to figure out who this is.

                Yes, I am.

                How are you surviving the apocalypse?

He said he wasn’t good. We briefly chatted about how fucked the world is, how much we miss singing, about TV shows, video games, movies, and how we were managing during isolation. We talked about fears, feelings, despair…we even talked about how he had legally changed his last name – due in part to his no longer wanting to have his father’s last name. After my social media perusal, I wondered if his name change also correlated to a significant change in relationship status. Did he get married too? There did seem to be a woman in some of his social posts. A chubby, older woman – hmmm, I think he has a type. I mentioned that I had planned to keep my exes last name as my middle name, but then decided that I no longer wanted or needed it. That was literally the entire extent of our “relationshippy” talk.

It’s funny that even after so much time and distance, we were able to be extremely forthright about serious, global, emotional, painful, personal stuff, while completely misfiring on general, social, small talk. It’s always been a bit like that with us – deep, intimate connection, but also weird, guarded, aloofness bordering on “ghosting” – then back again. I think it speaks a lot to his damage, and it’s just the way that we’ve always related to one another.

I’m not sure why he reached out. I like to take it as a compliment – he was thinking about me, looked me up, sent a message. But it probably wasn’t like that. I probably showed up in his “people you may know” on Facebook and he was likely curious about my name change. Still, it was really nice to hear from him and know that he’s alive. If we weren’t in COVID isolation, I may have explored the contact with a little more seriousness and interest, but we are, and it was nice to reconnect a little bit. I continue to think of him fondly, and to wish him well.

–RD

A post-script to my own post.

This could probably be an entire post unto itself, but I don’t want to do sound like I’m obsessing over this guy.

As I mentioned, I’m not Facebook friends with “BP” – never have been. But he did hit me up on Messenger when he reached out, and that’s where we have communicated most recently. When I started to write this post, I went back to our Messenger chat for reference and I noticed something new: we now have one FB friend in common. Wait, what?! That’s new. We did know people in common from the local karaoke scene, but he wasn’t friends with any of them on social media, and told me that he didn’t keep in touch.

Our mutual friend is a slight, attractive, single woman who is much closer to his age than I am. I found myself having a brief flare of…ooooh…is that jealousy? How WEIRD! I’m completely comfortable with the notion of him being married to the chubby gal in his photos, but I had the slightest spurt of “grrrrr” when I saw that these two were recent Facebook friends. Very interesting, and something that I will have to consider more. Not quite what I expected from my open-minded, polyamorous self!

Your thoughts and comments are most welcome.

04
Sep
20

Pandemic Playfulness

I started the day yesterday with a bit of a cry. I didn’t have any specific trigger, but just felt fear, anger, grief and anxiety bubbling up out of my chest. During these times of social seclusion, I find myself desperately missing people, but after looking at the news and social media? I’m also extremely disappointed with many people and feel a lot of rage. It’s possible to crave something and hate it at the same time. (Insert your own metaphor for unhealthy relationships here.)

Feeling weepy and sad, I told my partner that I wanted to escape to some water and let the sound of waves soothe me. He agreed that if I could find an Airbnb that I felt was safe enough, that we could get away for a few days. I forgot that it’s a holiday weekend. I was unsuccessful. But just the act of looking at soothing spaces was a comfort.

We spent another banal day in isolation. Cooking, video games, a little cleaning, social media, an inordinate amount of TV watching. We went to bed far later than we should have. Same ol’, same ol’.

We found each other in the muted light of dawn.

You’d think we were too old for fooling around at 4 am, but apparently not. (It used to be that when the hair tie went on, it was time for some serious action! Now, when that c-pap machine comes off, you know it’s time to get busy!)

Stroking, soothing, sucking, kissing, playing, teasing, comforting, loving. As my body responded and my heart swelled, I giggled. In the middle of a hungry, open-mouthed kiss, he stopped. Looked at me.

“What’s up, babe?”

Smiling, I shook my head, and we returned to each other.

I laughed again.

Concerned, he stopped and said “what’s wrong? Am I tickling you?”

I had to take a moment to think. A couple of heartbeats to consider. Then I responded.

“I’m just happy. I have so much love and joy inside me, that it’s bubbling out of my chest. I am so glad to be here, in this moment, with you, that I have to laugh at how lucky I am.”

“We’re both lucky” he agreed, before returning to taste and plunder.

Just as overwhelming grief had flooded me at the beginning of the day, overwhelming joy had done at the end. Yes, the world is in chaos, people are suffering and dying, many are facing financial devastation, and an unknown future. But in the wee hours of the morning, in the arms of a man that loves, adores, supports, and thrills me, I felt thankful. We have a roof over our heads, food and money enough to sustain us, and health insurance. Our family is safe and reasonably healthy, and we are together.

During these crazy times, sometimes there are tears, sometimes there is laughter, and sometimes they show up at the same time. Through it all, I can honestly say: thank God that dick still works! 🤣

Stay safe, friends!

😘

-RD

16
Oct
14

My taco taco!

I started dating my man nearly a year and a half ago and gave him the name  “Working Class Whimsy” the first time I blogged about him. I had done enough dating and blogging at that point to realize that my old system of first initial/age was confusing and I had recently started giving the guys I date more descriptive monikers. It’s funny to look back over the past 17 months of change, growth and increased depth of our relationship and evaluate the cutesy little blog name I gave him & see if it still fits.

(For the record, I recently saw “Brad Pitt” again and man, his blog name no longer matches him!!)

I called my guy “Working Class Whimsy” because he came from a very poor, blue-collar, working-class background. Though extremely smart and witty, he’s also very “simple” in terms of his needs & expectations. While my ex spouse was always concerned with having the newest technology, car, books, music, software, games, etc and never gave a thought to his “instant gratification” spending habits, “WCW” is happy driving an old car that’s paid for, making a simple meal and hanging out in sweats. My ex seemed to always be trying to overcompensate for his humble beginnings while Whimsy seems comfortable in the old neighborhood, ya know?

The “Whimsy” part comes from the funky artist and funny, goofy, inventive romantic who belies his “quiet” and “simple” side to slay me with a creative or romantic gesture, stun me with the depth of his understanding and leave me speechless with the intensity of the words and actions that he chooses to show his love.

This man has never bought me flowers but he eats my pussy like he’s being graded on it and has done so about 300 of the past 365 days. I mean, come ON! I can buy my own flowers!

So I wanted to share with you a moment of silly sweetness displayed by my whimsical guy last night during sexy time.

The chill & rain of fall is upon us here in the Pacific Northwest. I’ve just broken down and turned on the furnace. Still, last night our room was cool when we went to bed. Our loving turned to his giving me some intense and delightful oral ministrations and despite the way that he warmed my core, I was cold and made mention of it. Immediately he sprung into action using two heavy blankets to swathe my legs, feet, breasts, shoulders & arms on either side of my body – leaving an exposed strip of bare flesh down my middle. I was laughing at the absurdity and cleverness of this – I was snuggly warm and nothing was exposed anymore except my crotch which was covered with his face and warm from the delightful friction caused by teeth, tongue, beard, mustache and fingers.

Giggling, I said that he made me a taco and then laughing, I said it was my “taco taco” because he left only my lady bits exposed and the rest was wrapped in a warm “shell” of blankets.

Well, between enjoying the “all-you-can-eat taco buffet” and silly remarks about “hot sauce” and “extra sour cream” we both rather enjoyed ourselves!

13
Oct
14

Have you ever dreamed of blogging?

I know. The title makes it sound like an ad in the back of a travel magazine! “Have you ever dreamed of living in Alaska?! There has never been a better time!”  Yeah. Not that. I dreamed about my blog for the first time.

I dreamed about my blog? “Gee, Risqué Rivorcée, you used to write about fun stuff like dating and sex and boys. Now you’re just so lame!”

Hold up, hold up! I dreamed that I was having naked-time with an ex and discovered that he had tattooed my name on his body. I was so shocked and conflicted by this that in my dream I was already imagining and organizing how I would formulate the tale into a blog post. I even had determined how I would change my name in the blog to make the story still work and protect my privacy. My plan was so real that when I woke it actually took me a few minutes to change the “writing plan” that I’d developed in my sleep. At first I was literally going to write the story like it had actually happened – not like a dream. As the haze of subconsciousness faded into consciousness, however, I realized that I always tell you guys the truth. Duh.

The dream was just so real that the plan to blog about it seemed like the truth until I fully woke.

The guy in the dream doesn’t exist. To say that he isn’t my type would be an understatement. He was young (early 20s?) very fit and extremely active. I know that women joke about fantasizing about hot, young hard-bodies but I swear that I don’t. I have actually written a number of posts about my general discomfort concerning men that are “too young” or “too hot” being interested in me. In several cases I have thought “what’s the catch?” It’s an interesting reflection on society, fat-shaming and my own insecurity that I have a general distrust of sexy young men that find me attractive. Admittedly, it’s the “young” part that I struggle with as much as the “hot” part. Generally, I tend to be attracted to men who are closer to my own age and who have a little bit of meat on their bones.

No that I haven’t had some one-time experiences with varying degrees of young, hot & skinny fellas, but for a long-term relationship I have to feel comfortable in sweats, no make-up & no bra, you know? Interestingly, the “dream guy” was an ex that I had lived with. In the dream, he had been traveling around the world having adventures (mountain climbing, hang-gliding, exploring the Outback,) and was back in town.  He had let himself in to my apartment with his key in order to shower/rest and had crawled into my bohemian hippy futon bed with me, naked. He was spooning me and exploring my body a bit when I woke (in the dream) and realized it was him and had a sort of friendly “what the hell are you doing here” exchange. He was clearly someone that I cared for and felt affection for, but who was an ex and it was long over between us. There was no sex, but there was definitely nudity. We seemed to be quite comfortable walking around naked.

Interestingly, not only was I nude in my dream, I was also fat. I mean, I am fat, but the images of myself that my subconscious provides in dreams are often either hazy or of me with a thinner body. In this dream, I was my very full-figured, saggy self with all the lumps, bumps and stretch marks. I was comfortable with it. So was the guy. We had clearly known each others bodies at some time in the past.

In his nudity, I noticed that he had added to a developing tattoo sleeve of colorful countries and continents that he had visited. The various map representations also had different bits of memories, pictures, quotes, images or city names marking his experiences. In the dream, I was shocked to see my name standing out in relief on Australia. He explained that there was a region there that was called the same as my first name and that he spent several weeks there and thought of me often which is why he had “HI VICTORIA” (that’s a place, right? Not my real name – duh,) tattooed across the region in big block letters. He said that every time he heard the name of the region he was in that he thought about me and smiled and would look up at the sky and say hi.

I told him that he was crazy to have put some woman’s name on his body. I teased that he must not have heard the rule that you aren’t ever supposed to get a tattoo of someone’s name and he said “well, I didn’t get your name in a heart or anything stupid, I put your name in here with all my other beautiful memories that I want to celebrate and remember.” In the dream, I was gobsmacked by this revelation and couldn’t wait to blog about this sweet gesture and even sweeter turn of a phrase. It was so real that I had a really hard time coming fully aware of the fact that it was a dream.

Of course, it may have felt particularly real because I really did have a sexy man wrapped around me & holding me during the dream. My guy also shared some pretty deep and heart-squishing words about me last night, so perhaps that’s where the inspiration came from!

09
Oct
14

Happy Non-iversary

I’ve been blogging so irregularly that I never told you guys…I’m divorced. I mean, okay, I call myself the “Risqué Divorcée” but this started with tales of my separation. I guess the “Saucy Separated Gal” didn’t have the same ring to it. But my divorce has been final for quite awhile now. It came & went without any fanfare or even a mention in this blog. Goodbye 20 + years of marriage. Goodbye joint tax return. Goodbye 25-year relationship. Done.

I don’t like to write about my ex because even before our divorce was final, our marriage was long over. I think it was over for years before either of us realized, actually. I wanted the focus of my writing to be about me and my moving forward. I didn’t want to be the “Bitter Divorcée” blathering about past hurts, what was, what might have been. No, this blog was intentionally meant to be funny, saucy, empowering – a tribute to fat, middle-aged chicks starting over and having fun! While I have definitely had my share of hilarity and adventure, I also have struggles, adjustments, fear, changes, anxiety. Sometimes I wonder how I got here – it’s surreal on occasion to realize that my entire previous identity no longer exists – my house, husband, kids – everything that used to define me is no longer a part of my life. It’s sometimes overwhelming & terrifying. It’s a lot to un-learn.

For example, this week I would have marked my 26th wedding anniversary. Last year I sent my ex a text saying “Happy Non-iversary” and he replied “heh – thanks! You too!” This year I thought about the significance of the date a few times but that was it. I know two other couples with the same anniversary & both were posting photos and best wishes on Facebook and celebrating their respective 20-something-year-old marriages. It’s hard to avoid thinking about the fact that it was also our anniversary.

What am I feeling? Not regret. I’m happy. Much, much happier, in fact. But there’s some weird part of me that feels like I should get credit for having been married longer than most people are today. For making it 20 years longer than the predictions of the detractors who scoffed at me as a teen bride and said we wouldn’t make it. I feel like I should get some credit. Maybe flowers? No. Instead it just came and went without any fanfare. No Throwback Thursday photo. It simply no longer exists. I wonder if my ex thought about it at all.

There’s just so much to un-learn and stop being. Even my boyfriend sometimes refers to my ex as “your husband” – which drives me nuts, by the way. He’s not. We’re not. He was. It’s over. It’s just not possible to un-remember those non-iversaries.

16
Jul
14

Do you ever wonder if they are all the same people?

During the past several months I haven’t been doing much blogging. It’s funny, really. Life is generally good and I’ve been busy with work, my boyfriend, travel, games, reading, hobbies and housework. Blogging is like a live, interactive journal for me – a place to really work on my thoughts and feelings. Because I’m writing for an audience, however, I find myself needing to be a bit more disciplined than I would be in a regular diary. I feel like I need to be a bit structured and to come to some sort of conclusion or denouement in order to wrap things up nicely. Which means I don’t blog as often as I ought.

For awhile, I was following a “power blogger” who wrote several blog entries each day. Many of them were quite short or reposts of news or other items that interested him. His discipline was in posting every day and, seemingly, every thought. I tend to be more studied and I also try to keep on a theme – dating, sex and general survival after a divorce. Granted, the dating stuff was most entertaining and took the forefront, but I suppose I could share a bit more about the ex, the kids, money, insurance…the struggles…but I find that to be pretty boring, mostly. I suppose I should consider sharing a bit more of that side though.

Meanwhile, while not writing as much, I have been reading a whole lot more blogs. As I consider my current relationship, I have been considering dating again and how that might work. I’m intrigued by other poly people and swingers. How do they make it work? And do they, actually? Do they manage to find balance, contentment, love, trust, family? Is it all just temporary, fleeting moments of excitement and newness until someone else becomes the new, interesting person? Are they admirable in their ability to be self-reliant or are they sad in their constant state of flux and turnover? Are people in dedicated families (quads, triads, etc) too busy with household management and great sex to blog? I wonder.

As I was reading these numerous different stories I became intrigued by a sort of odd fantasy that perhaps they were all just sort of the same people. I know that some poly communities are quite small – even with my own very limited experience I have found that there are several people that I know of who are “mutual friends” with other friends of mine. I’ve had an incredible number of people who know other people in common. I’ve also come to know some of my current love’s past lovers socially and one gal he’s been dating lately is quite intent on meeting me. All of this supports this weird fancy that I created imagining that I was reading about the same people from different first-person perspectives.

Imagine – “Artsy Chick” goes on a trip with “The Woodsman” and is gone for a week. Meanwhile, “Suburban Poly Mom” is writing about how “Nature Boy” isn’t going to be around for awhile because he’s vacationing with “Sophisticated Sara” so she’s spending more of her time with “The Stud” who is also seeing “Hippie Chick” (aka: “Festival Freak” aka: “Tye-dye Tina” aka: “Patchouli Princess” – depending who is blogging about her!) Hippie Chick calls him “Mr. Big” and he’s also seeing “The Librarian” who is also seeing “Artsy Chick” – are you feeling me?

Maybe it’s the fact that I like to read lots of fiction and look for overlaps and common threads to solve mysteries and move a story forward, but I found that reading about ten different poly/dating blogs caused me to start fusing people into each other’s stories. Maybe “The Woodsman” is also “The Lumberjack” who hasn’t been returning texts from Portland Poly Blogger but while she can’t figure out why he didn’t respond to her impromptu dinner invite the other night, only you and I know it’s because he’s out in the woods camping with “Artsy Chick” and won’t be back until tomorrow.

Sometimes I wonder if we’re all just living in the same soap opera.

15
Jul
14

But would you really date Peter Dinklage?

sexy peter Okay, just shut the fuck up. Of course you would really date Peter Dinklage. He’s insanely popular, rich, famous, sexy, funny and presumably quite wealthy. Of course we’re just casting aside his lovely wife and daughter, but I’m actually using him as an archetype rather than as a real person. I freely admit to getting a little ego boost from having a sexy young thing want me, but usually it’s not as comfortable as someone a bit more quirky – interesting – seasoned – weird. I had a mad crush on chubby Ricky Gervais. Fit Ricky Gervais is still a panty-dropper, but mostly because of his wit, sense of irony, causes, close association with Muppets, self-deprecating humor, charm and completely unattractive bathtub selfies!

RickyBath_02_1652145a

 

Don’t get me started on Seth Rogen (epitomizing the chubby, hot, sexy nerd,) or Eddie Izzard (deliciously sexy in any language whether wearing a dress and lipstick or a full beard!) Of course Bill Murray is in his very own class of weirdly sexy and has been rocking that shit for nearly five decades! I like people. I find individuals of all kinds to be interesting but I tend to be most attracted to people who are weird and who aren’t afraid to be different. This is true of women as well. I find Margaret Cho, Kathy Najimy & Queen Latifah to be delicious. While I love men and consider myself to be at least 73% straight, I don’t think I would kick any of those ladies out of my bed! All this imaginary star banging brings me back to my point about attraction.

When I was dating regularly I wasn’t focused on a body type and at first I wasn’t even focused on a personality type. But…attraction needs to be there. I talked to a number of men that I just wasn’t attracted to. In fact, I met some of them and probably even slept with a few as well. (I think I had a bit of a learning curve to master and a lot of rejection to overcome! Overall, it was a satisfying slut phase!)

Yesterday while I was driving, someone walking on the other side of the street caught my eye. I’m not sure why exactly, but I think it was because I thought it was a kid and it was an unusual place to see a kid walking alone. I soon realized it was a man about my age – maybe a bit younger. Late 30s, early 40s. Very attractive, well dressed and with a pleasant outward appearance – the kind of person who would normally catch my attention because of his looks and the way he carried himself – but who had caught my attention because he looked like he had been shrunk to 2/3 size. I would guess he was about 4′ 8″ tall and looked like someone who has the type of dwarfism that makes your body proportionate. If he was a dwarf at all that is. He was a bit tall for a dwarf, but my point still remains.

Would I date someone 10-12 inches shorter than I? What about someone who is Trans*?

When I last had an OK Cupid profile, I had someone rate me highly and add me to their favorites who was clearly someone who was transitioning from female to male. This challenged me. I consider myself to be a huge LGBTQ ally & outspoken advocate. But…I didn’t find this person attractive. To be fair, I didn’t meet this person or engage in any communication other than peeping each others’ dating profiles but if I’m attracted to people and can even include women in that attraction, why not a Trans* person? It might surprise you to know that it has little to do with penises. I like penises but the smallest one I ever had was connected to a really fun guy who made up for his shortcomings with fingers, mouth and enthusiasm. Trans* men get to pick their own size anyway, right?

I think that my lack of interest came from the fact that this person was clearly still transitioning and at the time, I felt like I was too. Not in terms of gender, but in terms of self-discovery. I was in a bit of a selfish phase and not willing to take on major challenges with a romantic interest. But I like checking my bias too. I’d never had a Trans* friend until a few years ago when suddenly I had two friends reveal that they were transitioning. One of them, a local friend, shared a lot of his community and friends with me and I learned a lot. I also went to several Trans* events, had my first FtM crush and met several very sexy men who used to be women.

So yeah, if I were dating again, I think I might consider the Trans* man, the short guy, the guy with a lisp & certainly a fat guy. Are they funny? Willing to be an idiot? Are they into me?

Seriously though – attraction plays a huge part. I have had men get livid with me for “misrepresenting myself” when I said “no thank you.” Just because I say I’m open to dating you doesn’t make me obligated to sleep with you or date you after we have talked or met. Similarly, if you are someone of a different race, culture, ability, height, etc – you may very well still be an asshole. This was a bit of a struggle for me for awhile. I want to support this gay friend but oh, hey – they’re a dick. I’m not a bigot because I don’t want to take their bullshit. In fact, I’m less of a bigot for treating them the same way I would anyone else.

This is a weird blog entry. So I guess that suits.

 

14
Jul
14

Hometown letdown

A brief summary to catch you up: I am primary in a poly relationship that teeters on the brink of being monogamous. My guy has an active dating profile. I do not. We came to our relationship as poly people and it got serious and we really like spending time together so we do. I am fine being an ethical slut and have no objection to a poly lifestyle other than it can be time-consuming hard work and also I hate drama and bullshit. If there’s drama I’ll just pass, thanks. My fella and I have an active, frequent & satisfying sex life. Right now he dates and I don’t. But mostly he just talks to others. I’m certain that he hasn’t had sex with anyone else in the past seven months.

Every time I write about this I feel like I’m making excuses or justification. I guess it just feels a little weird and pseudo-patriarchal because he dates and I don’t. That’s not how it is.

He likes the variety, the conversation, the discovery, interest & admiration. I like intimacy, sex, sense of family, security & trustworthiness. I don’t like the games & bullshit so I don’t put myself out there to seek out new men & new adventures. However, I’ve been thinking about it. Also, I’m not opposed to it happening organically if it does. I like flirting and wouldn’t mind letting it go further if the opportunity was there. But realistically, unless the circumstances are really specific or unusual, there aren’t that many opportunities to say “oh hey, just so you know, my live-in boyfriend and I are poly and see other people so if you were interested in maybe going out sometime…”

Which brings me to a situation where I ALMOST had that exact discussion. Almost. We didn’t get that far.

There’s a guy that I dated back in high school. We’re Facebook friends. We keep in touch. He knows about this blog, my dating and we’ve shared a lot of naughty discussion over the years despite never having hooked up beyond heavy make-out sessions in the late 80s. He lives 2000 miles away or it might have happened by now, but he has a brother who lives about 35 miles from me who graduated with one of my siblings. Over the years, we had both commented on so many mutual Facebook posts that we finally became Facebook friends despite not having been friends previously. He’s attractive and while not local, he’s not far away either.

A few weeks ago during some generally Facebook chatter I said we should get together sometime this summer – it’s a shame that we don’t socialize since we live so close. He simply said he would love to. Okay, cool. I’m glad to socialize with someone from my hometown. Someone who is a friend of my brother. Someone who is the brother of a friend of mine. Yes. It would be fun to get together. Though I notice he used a lot of winky smiley faces. And I find him very attractive. And he’s a little flirty. And…should I ask him if he wants to get together with my man & I or just me? I mean, would that be presumptuous? Because honestly, I’m good either way. If we just hang out in a friendly way that’s cool. If we hang out and discover a deeper interest, that’s cool too.

We had a few brief texts about getting together, “I’ll check my schedule” type messages here & there, then I sent him a message saying that I would be attending a festival in his town over the weekend and he quickly & enthusiastically responded “sounds like I may be going down as well! :)” I then explained that I would be helping out at my guy’s sister’s booth and said I would help for a few hours during the high-traffic time of the afternoon but that I would be free to grab a drink and hang out. He gave me a “LOL – very generous! ;)” then dropped all contact.

I should be clear – my Facebook clearly states that I am in a relationship and I regularly post check-ins and photos of myself and my guy. So I hadn’t been misleading in case you think that saying “my guy’s sister” threw him for a loop. Nope. I figured we would meet someplace neutral and convenient, chat, have a drink and see if there was maybe potential for more and if so…I would explain my situation casually and without pressure. Given the new information he could then run with it by saying “oh wow – then we should DEFINITELY get together again!” Or say something like “oh man, I don’t know how you do that. I never could” or he could suggest that we should all go out sometime. Whatever. Something, right?

I sent him a text message on Wednesday to make sure he had my number. No response. I sent a FB message. No response. I sent a text the morning of the festival saying that the weather was nicer than expected & encouraging him to come down. No response. Later I sent a text asking if he was watching soccer & saying that I was enjoying a match and my first adult beverage of the day. I said he should come down & I would buy him a beer. Finally, I sent one last message on FB – just in case his phone number had changed since January when we last exchanged text. Meanwhile, he was posting & commenting on Facebook. Just…not responding at all to my messages.

I find this annoying. Hometown guy or not, romantic potential or not, if you’re going to blow me off could you maybe just communicate? How about “oh hey – wound up watching World Cup with some friends so today won’t work after all.” You can even leave off any “but let’s try again soon” if you don’t actually want to get together. I can handle it. But don’t act super friendly, enthusiastic & excited then just stop responding. It’s super weird. And quite unfriendly.

I’m debating whether I want to make the effort to say “hey, what happened?”

24
Oct
13

‘Brad Pitt’ got fat

I caught you up on the return of Pirate Bear, so it’s only fair to catch you up on the “return” of “Brad Pitt” after I ran into him Tuesday night. Saying that we “dated” would be an overstatement, but we had fun hanging out for awhile and I really liked him, so it was good to see him alive – even if I failed to recognize him at first. He’s packed on about 20 pounds since I last saw him in May, the golden highlights he’d picked up in Afghanistan are gone from his hair – now several inches longer – which puts it well past his shoulders, and instead of a tidy goatee, he’s now wearing a full beard.

When we met in February, he caught my eye because he was my type – cute, scruffy and casually sexy. That first day, he was wearing jeans & a hockey jersey and though we flirted a bit, I figured he was too young and pretty for me. When he gave me his number and expressed clear interest with his subsequent texts, I responded positively and we started a brief affair.

The “Young Brad Pitt” nickname came from conversation with my girlfriends. He was 29 when we hooked up and other than the fact that he has brown eyes, the first time he showed up at my door he looked like a 1994 version of Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall. By the time I last saw him five months ago, he was looking like the scruffier Brad at the end of the movie – which is still pretty yummy. At that time, we were discussing the notion of moving our “relationship” from “occasional FWB/fuck buddy” to “dating” but he was really inconsistent. Sometimes we would text all night. When we were together he was attentive, complimentary, sweet and thoughtful. When we were apart, he sometimes would just drop out of the middle of a conversation and disappear. We had planned our first public outing with friends – a real date – and he essentially stood me up. He later told me that he’d been experiencing really bad panic attacks and PTSD as well as depression. I appreciated what seemed like honesty, but it didn’t change the fact that soon after he went full hermit and disappeared for nearly five months – until a few weeks ago.

The text progression on my phone shows my last text from him on May 11th, followed by a 2am text on October 9th asking how I’ve been and asking if I was at his neighborhood bar. I assumed that this was merely a closing time booty call query and was somewhat bemused. I considered not responding at all, but eventually did the following afternoon, saying that I’d been sleeping like a baby at 2am and that my formerly regular Tuesday hang-out had become pretty busy on those nights and I don’t go as often. He didn’t respond.

Interestingly, I had received a report from a girlfriend that he had been there a few weeks prior on a Tuesday night when I was off at a different place with my boyfriend. At the time I wondered if “Brad Pitt” had been looking for me. I also joked with her: “Did he get fat?! Tell me he got fat!” Well, he did. To the extent that this week, when I was out on the patio at said bar, talking to my same friend and she stopped, stared behind me and said “I thought that was D” I said “no, that’s T’s friend, B.” The person walking in the door looked familiar, but I didn’t recognize him as the guy that I’d been fucking for three months this past spring.

He was decked out like the Kevin Smith character, Silent Bob – complete with trench coat, beard, long hair and backwards Mooby hat from Dogma. I heard a couple of guys shout “hey, Silent Bob! What’s up!” A few minutes later, my friend had gone home and he walked out onto the patio, greeted some people, looked straight at me and said “hey, how you doing?” Even then, I still thought he was the other guy…for a minute. That’s how different he looked! I even went back into the bar for a second drink without speaking further to him – but as I passed and heard his voice I felt like an idiot! I came back out a few minutes later and sought him out – I mean, I didn’t want it to seem like I was pretending to ignore him or playing games. He said “hey, you never texted me back the other day!” I said that I had, then showed him my phone with the text. He then apologized, saying that his phone had been acting weird and texts were really slow – he said he hadn’t sent the text at 2am, but that he had sent a bunch of texts to his “karaoke buddies” earlier in the evening to see if anyone was going out.

We chatted for quite awhile and he acknowledged that his PTSD and panic attacks had been really bad and he was trying to force himself to go out. Several times he mentioned trying to be healthier, wanting to lose 30 pounds and how he’d been riding his bike and working out. Okay, duly noted. We talked about his 30th birthday last month, how that really sucked for him and we casually chatted about movies, music and such neutral topics. When he asked what I’ve been up to I talked about work, my summer and the fact that I’m seeing someone pretty seriously – but that it’s a poly relationship. We briefly talked about that and it was interesting to gauge his reaction. Part of me wanted to know if he would still be interested in seeing me if I was seeing someone else. The fact that he made some noises about getting together again and that we exchanged some more texts yesterday seems to indicate a strong…maybe…

The rest of the maybe is with me. I’m so over the moon with my current guy that I’m struggling with the notion of being poly at all. I haven’t been dating for awhile and I took my OKCupid profile down – at least for now. I haven’t really been sexually aroused by another man since Whimsy & I got serious. I did make out with a new guy but then I called it off before it went further. It hadn’t felt hot or sexy – it felt awkward.

“Silent Brad” could be a different matter. I like him, we’re very compatible in bed, he has his own place and he’s not looking for a relationship. I know he can curl my toes and I’m attracted to him – because let’s face it, Kevin Smith is pretty hot too, right?

There’s a big part of me that just wants to be monogamous with Whimsy to see if we could be successful at that. I think we could be, but there’s another part of me that rebels at the thought of being one of his “harem” and waiting to see if he’s willing to take a risk with me. We’re really good where we are, but it feels somewhat weird that he is seeing other people while I am not. I’m not sure that this inequity is reason enough for me to date, but it’s something that feels out of alignment.

Meanwhile, my options are open as long as my relationship is.

22
Oct
13

Once I had a blog

Jesus. I used to have a blog.

Now I have…

  • A Facebook addiction. Hey, I’m level 31 on Game of Thrones & always in the top two on Bejeweled Blitz! 😉
  • Football season. It happens every fall – the NFL takes over my life.
  • A messy house, unfolded laundry & a constantly neglected “to do” list.
  • Friends that need me. These amazing people were there for me when my marriage was falling apart, my life was in the toilet and I was terrified. I worked hard at making sure that they were not neglected while I was in the intense early stages of this new relationship. Now, as I’ve settled into a more domestic stage of what has become a passionate love affair, I continue to work at maintaining, nurturing & protecting friendships. I’ve made the mistake of being too insular in the past and have blown off friends, family and other interests because I was focusing on my new love and ignoring everything else. I’m trying to be balanced and not lose the rest of the life that I value so much just because I’m in love with a man that I’m kinda giddy crazy about.

And oh yeah, I have…

A relationship. I mean, it’ really great. Really. But it’s moved fast and in unexpected directions. It’s tough to maintain what has primarily been a dating blog when I’m really only seeing one man right now. But there are still interesting stories that haven’t been told – bits & pieces that I have been experiencing and saving but not sharing because most nights I spend time continuing the discovery of this amazing man. And having mind-blowing sex. God DAMN the sex is great. I thank all the powers that be for a smart, funny, generous, big-cocked man with a decent sex drive who is really into ME! Thank you! Thank you! I like to think that karma brought him to me because I deserve it! Lord knows that I do!

Gushing aside, nothing is perfect. I have my frustrations, insecurities and areas for growth that I need to work on. This blog has been a great tool for working out my stuff and I’ve been neglecting it – which is just dumb. Writing for the blog is much like writing for a personal diary, but since there actually is an audience (however small you may be,) I find that I really make an effort to condense my thoughts and find a denouement or at least some sort of summary/life lesson to wrap things up. Even a bit of humor can really tie the room together and give me perspective. Having not written here in over a month, I find that without a sounding board, I get a little too introspective and tend to over-think things. This is my first new primary relationship in…26 years. I’m trying to learn from past mistakes and am forging a new path into this love. I’m discovering myself as much as I am my man.

Also, I am rather fond of my Risqué Divorcée persona. That bitch is fun, frisky & fearless! I need to tap into that bold, confident part of myself more often!




Categories

Quickies with the Risqué Divorcée!