avon speed dry strawberry S50

tucking into a nice set of drum and bass music as my nails dry. i'm on a mission to not chew my nails which means polish... but the understanding that the polish is probably worse than me nibbling on the ends. dah well. i just took yellow & cheetah spots off to replace with a muted strawberry. i was hoping for something about 2 shades more gaudy but no matter, good enough for a $3 bottle from Avon.
life is good uptown. i'm glad that i'm so close to walk where i need to be and maintain a decent ratio of staying out vs. staying in.
at the risk of sounding unpatriotic, i could not give a shitdick about the olympics. not even a little. that has thus far been grounds for being lambasted by peers and i will say that yes, i'm generally awful for not liking super popular things. at least i recognize that i can be an insufferable old crank and try to balance that out with my legit feelings.
never being one for sporting events, well, yeah, i'm not going to like the olympics. i do like hockey and have been keeping up with it, but still not enough to really constitute following it. so yeahhhhh i'm kinda glad it's all wrapping up so i can stop trying to change the topic when people at work ask me how excited i am about all our medals. sooooo yeaaaaaaaah sorry to give in and not be overtly patriotic.
anywho, my nails are clearly dry since i don't have to chicken peck the keys to avoid pink getting splashed on them so i'm audi 5000.

baby went to am-sterrrr-dam.....

"it's hardly a wake and bake at 2 in the fucking afternoon!"
her eyes stared mutely with blond lashes fluttering in front of me.
"oh well, like once i did it. people were all, "let's wake and bake!" but i was kinda like, ehhhh that's iffy."
"wait... what... what does that have to do with me getting stoned?"
"uh... nothing i guess?"
"no seriously, show me on the clock when it's socially acceptable to get high."
she was painted into a logic corner and her eyes wash over with wet tears that were in the mail.
i'm sensitive... i can't take a joke nor can i cope with someone bullying me in an argument. but i do feel it's my civic duty to call out the overly sensitive to try and instill a sense of backbone. stand up a little! life is tough!! rahrahrah etc...
my mind immediately changed tack.
oh.
right.
when you're attractive, you don't really need much of a coping strategy. in fact, her shimmering blond lashes were often dabbed in precursor tears. like, a lot a lot as she'd succinctly describe something.
so tears form, people are horrified that they've made this morsel of a girl get upset. it's brilliant. all bend and none are realizing what precedence has been set! whereas i've been introduced to Tough Fucking Shit, Ugly Fag enough to have moved past that persona.
i was nodding and staring, lost and enamoured in my diagnosis. she clearly was struggling to maintain the puppy eyes between natural evaporation and the sinking confusion she must have felt.
"uh?"
"oh.... yes wake and bake. you know what? never mind. i'm just going to drink this coffee and ya know, mosey on to the living room.
she trailed after me and framed up her thin outline in the doorway.
"well, leah is making lunch still so i guess i could have some with you?"
"knock yourself out... i'll hit it first."

really? [head tilting to side] REALLY??

recently i've had the luxury of mixing up the gay men in my life. i love the boys in waterloo, but as always i enjoy a solid infusion of something just a little different.
since i'm incapable of actually being happy with what i have, i often harken to the what ifs when things remain the same for too long.
as well, i feel like i can sound off more because the bulk of waterloo boys [daddy jr. not included] couldn't give a shitass about what i enjoy writing let alone reading it. that insulation presents a wonderful forum for being somewhat rude and also kill some time while my friend bounces his boyfriend off his cock on a bunk bed. [listening as it gets more frenetic]
a new homo in my life is the quintessential twinky. lithe, hairless, and honestly? an exceptionally natty dresser. bonding over libra qualities is always helpful but i can't help but think about how yes, he's hot and just perfect, but not something i hold up as hot in my personal tastes. isn't that fucking lame? i piss myself off sometimes. enough quid pro quos, let's continue.
deep down, i'm a bear at heart. if i had been a dude, i would be unshaven [more because i'm fucking lazy] and also just a bit of a werewolf. as a gay broad who watches more gay guy porn than any other genre it's just what floats my messed up little boat.
in hanging out with my dear friend from highschool in toronto, i've had the good fortune to meet a lot of gay men who are anything but a custard cup of twinky. twinky body types such as skinny and slight, but hairy with scratchy facial hair and unrepentant chest hair accumulations. talk of men never seems to be in the vein of boring [to ME] and my ah-ha moment was over the summer at a birthday party where i was a tag along. one guy was musing about looking for mr-right-now-to-bend-my-ankles-over-my-ears. he said, "god, i just want some werewolf to split his ass apart." wow. no, not about the ass splitting, more the idea of "hey remember when you weren't embarrassed to bring up liking older/hairier guys to your gay guy friends? implicitly, i just dropped mentioning it to avoid the awkward conversation of trying to explain that i like sucking on tits yet jerk off to meaty gang bang scenes.
i find some of these toronto lads [no, not just because they're fro the big cit-ay] aren't so... eeeerrrrrrrrrr clueless. they're aware that dykes exist, general working knowledge that they have sex and that there's some kind of motherfucking DYNAMIC at play.
keeping audience with two beautiful waterloo twinkies a couple of months ago, the topic was brought up about sex. there was a sympathetic glance to me when they were talking about anal sex. "well, not like you'd know anything about THAT stuff!"
[awkward swizzling of wine glass]
"uh, yeah i do."
"oh no honey, we're talking about actually DOING it, not hearing about it from gay men."
[elongated sip of wine]
"ahh... that's nice wine. no chump, i've had butt sex before."
[metaphorical feathers being ruffled and flying all over the place]
"WHY?! Why would you even bother!!?"
"You know the idea of you've tried the rest, now try the best?"
[blank look and me realizing i only make sense to myself sometimes]
"look, in a nutshell, i've done it a bunch of times."
"i just don't get why two women would do that."
"don't get it or don't know how we'd do it?"
[in unison] "both."
i will talk to you about fucking and sucking and rutting all day long, but i have an interesting quality of never really getting into details unless i know the person. because i can be so open and trusting, i've learned that i often tell too much and wither if i find out that i'm mocked about it after. how does one talk about getting reamed to an audience who recently discovered that two women can have dominate/submissive roles? [see below] you just don't. you skip it and soak up the attention of side glances for the rest of the evening.
which dovetails nicely into another tale of two twinkies. the same duo were talking about trying to find a boyfriend who was in sync with their tastes of being a top or bottom. again, the sad little "aw"gaze that indicated that i couldn't understand.
"wait, WHAT? do you think two women can't find that type of dichotomy?"
they seemed kinda stunned. usually i can be calm, but rage and humour often cut into my tact receptor. "what the FUCK do you think we do? sit in bed and argue about who gets to be the little spoon when cuddling that night?!?"
"oh... no, just... it's not like you can have a top or a bottom with two women."
you know that part in Fantasia where the devil rises up into a fury? that's kinda a LITTLE bit of my reaction.
"WHAT. THE. FUCK!!! are you RETARDED?! do i need to go through the ways women fuck and suck?"
"Ew, god no."
"NO! I think maybe i do!"
"But *really*, you've actually been in a dominate/submissive set up?"
"Are we talking about a whip and 'call me sir or i'll whip your pussy' kind of dom/sub or are we talking about who's in charge vs. who's taking it?"
[one dry heaves after "pussy" and"spanking" come up at the same time]
"The LATTER option."
I'm just beyond stunned at that point. when i think of how i've grown in relationships, developed into knowing what i want and like... how fun it is to not be restricted and just go with the flow.... i simply went blind with anger. for someone like me who rarely if ever relates to traditional lesbians, i got surprisingly dyke-centric at a moments notice when i felt like i wasn't a person that these guys could actually see as a human. ok that's harsh, but more the idea of you can imagine, gay men, straight people but i'm some enigma that you've relegated to some notion that i just frotage and mewl after kissing like lost kittens in the night. i often find myself muting what i'm actually thinking in these conversations to just avoid causing a q&a session when i really feel that in terms of what's out there i'm still kinda vanilla, but according to some folks i know, come across as some kink-o fanatic-o.
i composed myself, stood up and walked to the fridge to get a glass of wine. they were still waiting for me to respond.
"you want to know what i am with roles? I'm a loving top and an arrogant bottom."
there was some thinking and the topic was changed.
the best part is, when i mention this tale to jr. bears/otters they burst out laughing. can i get a what what to those boys out there?! at least i get a lot of milage out of my indignant trauma?

february wtf did you come from?

so i'm all moved in uptown... it feels really good. i mean, it's still all so fucking new and different but i'm glad i made the change. definately have a lot less space to live in, but i had too much shit anyway. speaking of which, i had an embarassing ammount of stuff built up from taking on pretty much 3 moves and never really sorting anything just moving boxes with me. yipes, there was a lot of shit. like, i'm banned from clothing beyond cool sweaters. i had duplicates of duplicates. oy gott! guess it's part and parcel of my lunacy. so yeah, no more clothes that's for damn sure because i just don't have the f'ing space for it!
the new roommate is going on vaccation in a mere few weeks. at this point i'm getting a friend to move in and cover some of the rent. of course i'm on tentative watch right now expecting it to fall through. but that's the nature of the game, i just rarely think that things will work out.
even now, two paragraphs up i talked about being hopeful and just assume the bottom'll fall out and i'll be in a bitch. in talking about this with someone i really can't recall being super happy/content. it's like i've always been an eeyore dragging my ass around with a perpetual rain cloud. while i experience things that are happy, it's never really like UP UP UP happy and certainly not something that lasts... not mania cycles tho. i'm either bleh or occasionally receede into super meh. is that medically sound?
anyway, just pounding out a few thoughts since i'm woefully negligent with this blog.
wish list:
- to eat more salads
- to really get into the groove of being uptown and embrace the change
- start up a hardcore gay porno company & write hardcore scenes at coffee shops with my headphones on "...and that's when the orgy started" would be on a notepad all the time to copy & paste into scripts

tight.