Sex, relationships and geometry
There’s a lot going on with this hussy lately. First, there is the tiny matter of my approaching graduation. For the past two years, the plan has been to retreat to rural Pennsylvania and avoid academia until I couldn’t take idiocy and mediocrity anymore and then figure something else out. But, now, with less than seven weeks remaining, I’m experiencing a change of heart. I’ve always wanted bigger things out of my life than a little house in the suburbs. And I think we all know that I’m not exactly the homemaker type. I used to think that I hated living in D.C., but really, I just don’t like being an undergraduate with three part time jobs and internships and all that other bs. Living and working in D.C. is not only pretty comfortable, it’s actual rather enjoyable. Beyond the simple pleasures of life here, I really love my internship, and as cheesy as it sounds, I really don’t want to leave. To make a long story short, even though there is a perfectly decent job waiting for me in Pennsylvania, I’m looking for something else here in the hopes that I could stay. And I’m even considering graduate studies for the not so distant future. Imagine me, with a masters. Creepy, huh?
Lola is visiting this week, and while we spend most of our time drinking beer like it’s going out of style and making ridiculously immature jokes about chili, we squeeze in the occasional serious conversation. Since she knows me better than most, I value her opinion. And she never blows sunshine up my ass. She always gives me her honest opinion, even when it’s not what I want to hear. Today over sushi, we ended up talking about my recent sexual dilemmas and relationship failures. In her words, I fell off the wagon, and then got ran over by the wagon four times since Valentine’s Day. For those who don’t know, I’ve been trying to change my hussy ways since about October. I’m sure it sounds easy, just like stopping sex work or drug use, but changing any behavioral pattern is more difficult than one would think. Not only is hard to give up the behavior, but it’s hard to give up the positive reinforcement you get for that behavior. Confused? Think of it this way: my friends and perhaps even my blog readers enjoy my stories because they’re funny and they represent something lacking in their own lives. Simply put, I have a lot more sex than most women my age with many more partners and I rarely attach any meaning to the sex. I’m a rarity, and that can be validating.
At the same time, I am fucking someone who I feel absolutely nothing for. And much like Sean Bateman, I cannot remember the last time I had sex slowly, or the last time that it meant anything to either party. I used to derive something positive from my sexual exploits, but with the exception of bragging rights, I haven’t in months.
Almost exactly a year ago, I became a hussy. Contrary to common belief, I was not always this way, nor was I “made” this way. I chose to be this way. My sex philosophy evolved out of a desire to be different than I was. And I succeeded. I don’t believe that our identities are stagnant. Our personas are fluid. Each of us is a combination of personalities and theories and styles, and each of those faces is always developing. I’ve been resisting change for awhile now, but maybe not so much anymore.
The only consistent thing in life is change, “or is it change at all? All straight lines circle sometimes.”
Lola is visiting this week, and while we spend most of our time drinking beer like it’s going out of style and making ridiculously immature jokes about chili, we squeeze in the occasional serious conversation. Since she knows me better than most, I value her opinion. And she never blows sunshine up my ass. She always gives me her honest opinion, even when it’s not what I want to hear. Today over sushi, we ended up talking about my recent sexual dilemmas and relationship failures. In her words, I fell off the wagon, and then got ran over by the wagon four times since Valentine’s Day. For those who don’t know, I’ve been trying to change my hussy ways since about October. I’m sure it sounds easy, just like stopping sex work or drug use, but changing any behavioral pattern is more difficult than one would think. Not only is hard to give up the behavior, but it’s hard to give up the positive reinforcement you get for that behavior. Confused? Think of it this way: my friends and perhaps even my blog readers enjoy my stories because they’re funny and they represent something lacking in their own lives. Simply put, I have a lot more sex than most women my age with many more partners and I rarely attach any meaning to the sex. I’m a rarity, and that can be validating.
At the same time, I am fucking someone who I feel absolutely nothing for. And much like Sean Bateman, I cannot remember the last time I had sex slowly, or the last time that it meant anything to either party. I used to derive something positive from my sexual exploits, but with the exception of bragging rights, I haven’t in months.
Almost exactly a year ago, I became a hussy. Contrary to common belief, I was not always this way, nor was I “made” this way. I chose to be this way. My sex philosophy evolved out of a desire to be different than I was. And I succeeded. I don’t believe that our identities are stagnant. Our personas are fluid. Each of us is a combination of personalities and theories and styles, and each of those faces is always developing. I’ve been resisting change for awhile now, but maybe not so much anymore.
The only consistent thing in life is change, “or is it change at all? All straight lines circle sometimes.”
posted by The Husskateer at 3:36 PM
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