Archive for April, 2012


Posted in Uncategorized on April 29, 2012 by sanguinesnow

True story time!

Did you know that if you’re really talented it’s possible to sing a David Bowie song, take off your shirt, smoke a cigarette, drink a beer, and have sex all at the same time?  It is!  The amount of skill and coordination required is pretty high, but with practice it can be done.  It also helps to wear a skirt and make sure the man you went home with likes lying on the couch and being used as your fun new toy.  Oh, and he should have good taste in music.

Once all these activities are well in hand, you might look over at the front door and see that it’s been left wide open.  You might freak out a bit over this, but if you were me, it would only add to the excitement and you’d get at those shirt buttons faster than ever.

Story time is kept short again, because I have other things on my mind again.  I just happened to have a recent story that fits perfectly with my topic of the day.  Which is weird, since the topic of the day is not just this post’s subject, but one I was specifically assigned to meditate on this morning.  I don’t plan these things, but it’s nice when the Dirty Sex Goddess hands you an instructive encounter right when you need one.  Clearly, I’ve gotten myself on this particular Goddess’ good side.

Exhibitionism.  It’s one of the many things I enjoy, but only when balanced very carefully.  And it’s a tough balance to find, and full of potential problems.  Part of my enjoyment might be that I like to poke at things, and the more layers and hidden bits there are to poke at, the better!  Take the wide-open front door, for example:  I was thrilled by the feeling of exposure, and the slight possibility that someone would drop by.  It was only a slight possibility, and the exposure was more mental than anything else.  It was so late at night that it had turned into early morning, and the living room was in an over-the-garage apartment set off the street and facing the backyard of the main house.  Anyone dropping by would be an equally drunk friend of my friend.

Once the likelihood of a random stranger or a cop (not the kind with velcro down the sides of their trousers.  A real one.) showing up or being able to watch is strong enough, all the fun goes out of it for me.  Getting arrested is off the list of fun things to do, and that random stranger that isn’t morally outraged could be someone I don’t want watching – or might even be reaching for the camera.

In certain settings I don’t care about strangers.  At the right type of party, for example, I will happily frolic about naked and have all kinds of loud orgasms even though I don’t personally know everyone in the room.  It’s a great feeling to be able to shed my usual reservations and have the audience I can’t get outside of a safe setting.  I can relax knowing that no one is filming or photographing anything I do, and that everyone there showed up knowing they might get to watch.  They’re not quite random, even if they are strangers.

Poking at this a bit more, though, I have to admit that there will be people around that I wouldn’t be interested in showing myself to sexually if I knew them.  Sometimes I already know they’re there, and who they are.  I still don’t care.

My argument for not caring is something I’ve thought through:

If I’m in the sort of situation where I can have fun with all the exhibitionism I can muster, the people I don’t want watching are the ones who are using it as a way to objectify me.  Objectification is dehumanizing.  It insults me and women in general – BUT!  Those people are already doing it to us all the damn time.  A man (I’m not being anti-male here, I’m using hypothetical man as an example because often it is hetero men objectifying women.) who shows up at a party where there will be sexiness doesn’t start seeing the women there as objects as a reaction to his surroundings.  He walked into the party with that mindset and will take it with him when he leaves.  He is the one you don’t even notice much of the time in your daily life, but when you do it’s creepy and gross.  He’s dehumanizing women in his mind when he sees them anywhere.  Wearing a bikini on the beach, walking down the street in a cute dress, bundled into a parka in the middle of winter, wearing a suit at work – this type of thinking shows up whenever he sees one of us that match his idea of “thing I want”.

I cannot stress this enough: It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing or doing.  The problem is in his mind and is no fault of the women he chooses to see as “things”.

Every time someone says, “if you don’t want men to objectify you don’t wear short skirts/high heels/bikinis/halter tops/whatever”, they are reinforcing the same sexist bullshit that allowed that hypothetical man to develop his way of seeing women.  As long as we accept that the problem is how women present themselves, we are accepting a misogynist society.

The way this relates to my own choices is simple.  I am fully aware that this shit goes on in some minds.  I am aware that my fun sexytimes might be turned into wank fodder.  I am also aware that going about my normal day in my least sexy clothing could turn me into wank fodder for that same mind.  My pleasure is more important to me than my fear of someone else’s issues.  When I have the chance to engage my exhibitionist tendencies in a safe place, I will.  I love my body, and I love my sexuality.  That love is strong, and I deserve it.  I know there are people watching who will see that strength and love and admire it, or feel inspired.  They will see a goddess, and not an object.  Those are the people I want watching me.  The others are not allowed to detract from my enjoyment with their petty objectification simply because I am greater than them.


An observation or two . . .

Posted in Uncategorized on April 24, 2012 by sanguinesnow

Remember how not too long ago TVs were boxy objects that received transmissions through antennae?  If you don’t, you are far too young to be reading this so please go elsewhere.  I’ll wait . . . . Okay, all adults here?  So, sometimes the picture would roll and you try adjusting the antenna and then when that doesn’t quite fix it you just smack the damn thing a couple of times and then it’s fine?

I work the same way!  Well, it sounded clever when it popped into my head this morning.   Because after lots of firm smacking (among other things) I was feeling all clear-headed.  I’ll leave out the analogies next time; may not be my strong suit.

I mentioned recently that I was going out to visit Potential Sir over the weekend.  I’ve been all giddy about this for a while, but always have my doubts and reservations lurking in the back of my mind.  I am a very difficult person to deal with at times, and these things are not easy for me to balance.  Except when they are.  And they are much, much easier when the other party involved is good at negotiation and good at listening to all my rules and warnings and explanations of how I tick.

The smacking part alone is a good example.  I am very particular about who is allowed to spank me and how it’s done.  People who listen and are good at paying attention to reactions can do it the Right Way.  The Right Way is – sometimes literally – orgasmic.  The Wrong Way ends with me suspecting that the other party didn’t listen to anything I said to them and puts them on the ever-growing list of People Not Allowed To Touch Me.  Here’s the part where I analyze things:  The Right Way only seems to happen when I meet someone who actually wants to see how can be handled when I am felling submissive.  The Wrong Way, in my experience, is offered by people who want to see women handled as submissive, full stop.

General social issues (I should really do a full post on those.  They’re interesting and endlessly frustrating.), me getting really excited about fun to the point that I sometimes go running ahead of my good sense, and occasionally people outright lying are the main things that can make me miss hints that someone might have motivations that are going to show themselves in ugly ways later on.  When this happens, it almost always ends with me calling things to a stop and repeating my rules, and the other party either giving up or complaining and then giving up.  Fine – if you assume that because I consented to (or asked for)anything (this does apply more broadly) you get to do said thing exactly how you want without respecting my wants, you’re doing it wrong.

But enough of that.  I was talking about The Right Way.  Potential Sir knows how it works.  Knows so well that he could read my reactions and spank harder and more intensely and move all over my thighs and ass and then finally between my legs and then stop just when the moment came that stopping would make me want more.  Finally, after getting back home only slightly sore, I still do want more.  Which is just one more thing that happens after I’m handled The Right Way.

That’s all I have time for now.  It’s possible I shouldn’t write about people out here where anyone could see it.  It’s possible that Potential Sir will notice I’ve written a brief critique here and that I’ll be in trouble.  Possibly, that means I deserve another spanking.  One can only hope.

Infecting My Brain

Posted in Uncategorized on April 21, 2012 by sanguinesnow

I’ve been kept away from writing by many things.  I’ve already listed many of these in posts past, so no need to list all of them now.  The one that has been stealing my time lately is a long -really long – series of posts in various locations from a new friend of mine.  A Potential Sir, if you will.

* Physics pop quiz!  How does a Potential Sir become a Kinetic Sir?  If I find out, I’ll post the answer here.  If you have the answer already, please let me know.  I clearly have issues with this.

These posts are full – absolutely full! – of things that spark my imagination.  Perhaps too much so.  Today, I was sitting at a table fairly early in the morning filling in paperwork.  A group of young fit guys came around the corner I was facing, and as soon as I looked up and saw them heading in my general direction my mind was filled with images of me stripping off my button-down top as fast as I could to offer myself to them.  Of all four of them taking me up on the offer and helping me out of my trousers as they bent me over a nearby desk and had their filthy way with me, all the time saying sweet, dirty things encouraged by my lustful begging for more.

There’s not much detail in my mind, because as soon as I registered this visceral reaction I filed it away for later so I could concentrate on my work.  Just like I flew through my last exam less than an hour after reading a message from Him, telling myself that regardless of how distracted I might be by my needs and how deeply His words provoked them, I had to focus on enzymes and peristalsis and save the anterior parts of my anatomy for later attention.  I made myself focus so well that if I didn’t get an “A” I probably deserve a spanking for being so easily distracted from academics.

Well!  General desire is not at all new to me.  Seeing someone I find appealing and wanting to experience dirty things with them is at least a daily occurrence.  What is a tad unusual is seeing a group of men and before I can even judge their attractiveness being hit with technicolor images of taking them all on when moments before I was filling in forms and organizing papers.  If I thought it all through and wrote out details, maybe it would be exciting.  Maybe it would be similar to the things I’ve been reading if I looked at where these images were coming from.  What gets my attention is that without even knowing it was there, my mind now has a corner devoted to exploring these ideas and it will strike when I least expect it.

I must get some sleep now, since the meeting we’ve been planning over the past week is tomorrow.  I am up much later than I’d expected, due to a date, and then talking with some friends.  So off to bed!  If I have anything more to say about this (and I think I will) I will continue later.  Just wanted to get that written down, as it’s been sneaking into my mind all day.

Things That Annoy Me

Posted in Uncategorized on April 18, 2012 by sanguinesnow

Things!  Sometimes they annoy me.  Maybe this will be a regular feature.  Mild annoyances are that I don’t have nearly enough time to be getting into Serious Things I want to write about here, or Fictional Things that I want to write about because I am busy and tired.  So it’s time for another short bit off the list of things I want to talk about:  Annoying Misconceptions.

Recently, I was talking to Someone.  It doesn’t matter who, and I’m not going to tell you.  I was complaining about wanting sex, when there is none to be had.  Someone pointed out that women get to decide when they have sex, while men have to wait to be chosen by us.

I already covered some of this in my “Standards” entry, but it is worth repeating:  This idea about how shit works is just plain Not True, and it’s bad for all of us.

If the question is, could I go to a bar or party or Wal-Mart parking lot and pick up a guy?  Then, yes, probably.  Quite possibly I could do that, and then I would get sex.  If the question is, can women in general do this just because they’re female?  Then, well, possibly, but not absolutely.  If the question is, could I try out the aforementioned pick-up and actually get sex that remotely resembles the kind of sex I want?  Then, maybe, but it’s not bloody likely.

That gives us three – three! – points, two of which are reasons why the world doesn’t work this way.  I love a good dissection, so let’s do it!

First, the basic premise that it’s up to me, as a woman, to decide when I want sex and then go get it.  This actually worked for me a lot when I was younger.  Fairly often, I would go to a club or party or something (never a Wal-Mart parking lot.  That was just an example.) by myself, and find someone to get it on with (In point 3 I’ll get into why this is not a good tactic for me).  I could still do that, but I am fully aware that the main reason I could is that although I’m not exactly Playboy material, I fit most of society’s standards of “a woman you might want to sleep with”.

That brings us to my first reason this idea is false:  women exist in a vast range.  Let’s say you’re a straight guy and I start hitting on you with the goal of heading back to your place.  Would you react differently if I were over 60?  What if I weighed 300 pounds or more?  What if I didn’t have a vagina, or if I did but hadn’t been born with it?  What if I were in a wheelchair?  I could go on like this for pages, but I think the point is clear: a woman with one or more of those characteristics might want sex just as much as I do, but my hypothetical straight guy may already have assigned them to the “women I will not have sex with” category.  That means that it simply isn’t true that ANY woman who wants sex can just march out into the world and demand that it be delivered to her.  Maybe I can, but that’s just me.  And even if I can, it doesn’t help matters.

Which is my second reason for hating this misconception: when I say I’m all pent up and want sex RIGHT NOW, I mean sex that is satisfying to me with someone I want in equal measure.  I just got through talking about guys rejecting (or not even considering) women as potential partners for whatever reason.  I have reasons for rejecting men, too.  In my recent “Unpacking” entry, I mentioned two people who I will not sleep with.  My reasons are entirely valid to me, and horniness will not change that.  I have gotten more selective, and said I’d get into why.  For one thing, it’s because in the past I’ve ended up with people I didn’t know at all, and then found out they had qualities that, had I talked to them or spent a little more time around them, would have made me reject them.  Oh!  The memories!  For the record, if you pick up a dude in a goth club, don’t assume the giant cross he’s wearing is just a fashion statement.

And the other thing I learned from my youthful misadventures: someone might seem enthusiastic about you, but not have any idea what to do with you.  You might end up just being thrust into for a short time, and then that’s it, your fun night is over.  If you ask for certain things, you might not get them anyway.  If I just want a bit of penetration, I don’t need a male of any sort.  Not only do I own all sorts of things that work great, I can also improvise!  I am always guaranteed to be safe and happy at the end, which I would not necessarily be with random people I only just met.

That’s it!  Off to do housework!

Erotica. Yes, it’s a good album, but that’s not what this post is about.

Posted in Uncategorized on April 15, 2012 by sanguinesnow

I have been working on what I hope will eventually be a series of posts about Serious Business.  Specifically, a series of posts about trauma, what it means to me, and how I deal with it.  I may finish up a draft or two, strap some shoes on it, and send it out into the world soon, but no promises.  Serious Business is hard to write about.  Hell, even less serious posts get lost in draft limbo all the damn time.

I meant to come home this evening and get down to the serious writing, but I got sidetracked by answering messages, chatting with the flatmate, feeding the cats, reading other people’s sexy/intelligent writing, and just generally doing the things I do on weekends.

In addition to all my usual weekend activities, I was a bit wobbly from the lunch date I’d had earlier.  I had arranged to meet someone I had first met at The Sexy Weekend.  Yeah, the one I unpacked recently.  I already knew that he fit the Tall, Dark, and Handsome criteria (which reminds me – I should really write a post about Why Girls Should Not Read Wuthering Heights At An Impressionable Age.  Seriously, it’s like Twilight for anglophile girls with high IQ scores.  Remind me to go into my feelings on this book later)  This man caught my attention in the first place by being hot.  He was at the event with a woman who I  . . . um . . . got to know a bit but want to get to know better.  The dynamic between them seemed interesting, but I was too busy to ask any questions.  He found me on facebook, so I had the opportunity to check out his posts.  It seemed that his political and social beliefs matched mine pretty well.  Hot and intelligent, AND with more in common than I’d realised?  Yes, sign me up, I am there.

The hours we spent together were more than enjoyable to me.  I suspect that this is one of the men I will be talking about in the future.  Toward the end of our time together, we ended up in a tea room he suggested. Good choice.  We settled into a dimly-lit corner furnished with cushions and low tables.  We had been having the kind of meandering conversation I love so much all afternoon, flowing from personal revelations to media and culture to silliness to flirtation and back again in no particular order.  He also kissed me.  Because of the place we met, he had already done more than that, but a kiss that comes in the middle of a private conversation can be much more intense than one that happens at a sexy party.  In our corner of the tea room, more kisses were offered to me, and I took them and wanted more so badly.  He slipped his hand under my ass, and stroked my back, and still the conversation went on.  I knew I was wet under the pretty underwear I’d put on before leaving the house.  I hope he knew as well – I’m sure he did.

I tried to stay within the bounds of “not getting arrested for indecent exposure”, but my mind is not under any kind of legal censure so I was thinking of how perfect a place this would be for him to find out how much I needed him and what it would be like if he did.

Real-life interruption:  Yeah, in real life, as much as it sucks, I would never do any such thing.  However, I do enjoy the fantasies that these encounters bring about.

As I said, when I got home today I was not in the mood to delve into the hard stuff – the nightmare things that keep me awake at night for years on end.  My mind was full of what would have happened that afternoon if I were a fictional woman living in a fictional world.

I have been meaning to, wanting to, trying to write erotica (or porn, if you’re Alan Moore) for a while now.  I burned all my early attempts, saved some later ones but saw the flaws in them, and now am ready to give it another go.  I want to write about my fantasy tea room, but haven’t gotten to it tonight.

The person responsible is . . . Joe.  I’ve mentioned him before, and now that things are pretty well worked out I can admit that he is the one who inspired the broken heart post recently.  Yeah, big misunderstanding, and it was at least half my fault (as it always is with him.  We go back about a decade and have run into this before.  I should have known.).  Part of the trouble with him is that I have been in love with him for a long time, but only recently admitted it.  To him.  I’ve known for most of my adult life.  Well, he visited me recently and I was dead set on telling him how I felt while he was here.  I didn’t, wires got crossed (again!), and I cried myself to sleep for a couple of weeks. But we’ve discussed it since then!

Since Joe and I had the Very Important Talk, I’ve felt much better.  There is still a part of me that is afraid of love, but most of me is ready for it.  I have been imagining what his visit would have been like if I had gone ahead and abandoned my fear and told him (as I intended to but was still too afraid to do so) how I felt.  Tonight I’ve been working on writing about what that might have been like.  I want to write this for him, and also for myself.  I’m mid-draft, so it may take some time to get it done.  After that, I want to write about what might have happened in that tea room if we didn’t live in this bullshit patriarchal “Christian” society.  It’s all fantasies of mine, and I have enjoyed exploring them in my mind since I was a little girl.  I’m ready to write about them, but what do I do with them once I’m done?  Literotica?

Back to the Good Stuff . . . .

Posted in Uncategorized on April 12, 2012 by sanguinesnow

Last Sunday, I had my tarot cards read.  I’m pretty thoroughly a skeptical science-loving athiest sort of person, but also not one to turn down a sincere offer.  Although I’ll make fun of astrology and such, I don’t mind tarot because on the rare occasion someone wants to do a reading for me I look at is as a way of using free association to start digging into personal issues I may not have gotten around to otherwise.  It’s kind of like a psychological version of those writing prompts that sound silly but can get you over a block when you need to.

I had one from a friend of a friend about this time last year while I was at a bar, and the main things that kept coming up were closeness to family and gaining power and control through money.  Over the past year, I’ve been recovering from a rough marriage and some of the things that have been best for me in that time have been getting closer to my family and finally having control of my finances again.  It probably would have worked out that way anyway, but getting a nudge in that direction helped, particularly with the finances since one of the things that made me decide to leave was finding out that my ex had been stealing from my savings.  Having a secure cache of money again has helped me feel free of that part of my past much faster.

So, I was hanging around Sunday afternoon, when an older druidic-looking fellow offered me a reading.  The main things that came up were that I was finally going to embark on some great creative project, but that it wouldn’t really take off until a negative male influence that was already waning was entirely gone.  A new person would enter my life (either someone I’d just met or someone I was soon to meet), and could help as long as I didn’t allow their personality to overwhelm me.  Finally, a big decision would need to be made – one that has been in the works for a while, but that once it happened would change everything so completely that it would be like an entirely new start.

At this point, people more logical than me are laughing, because a) Who doesn’t have some negative male influence in her past?  b) Kinky geeky people almost always have some creative thing going on or about to begin, and c) Everyone met new people that weekend.  Interesting ones.

Still, I’m taking the “can’t hurt to think about it” approach.  I am about to get to the point where I’ll never have to have any contact with the ex again, or even see him in my town.  I DID meet lots of new people, who I’d like to get to know better, I could use a creative kick to the brain, and I have an idea about that earth-shattering decision, but it’s a secret for now.


Posted in Uncategorized on April 9, 2012 by sanguinesnow

I just got home from a much-needed vacation.  I’m not referring to a literal suitcase with that title, though.  I read lots of blogs dealing with racism and sexism (sometimes both at once! Good thing I’m clever!), and if you weren’t aware, unpacking is what we people who like to discuss these issues do.  You take your issue, or specific event, and just like it was a suitcase you take everything out and check it over.  It’s easier to do in writing, since no one can butt in or yell at you while you’re working shit out on paper.  It can be done in a discussion, but it gets harder when the discussion is happening during drinking time or if people involved in the discussion are horribly ignorant and need to go back to Not Being An Asshole 101 at their local community college or if they’re just plain bad at listening (good listening skills are covered in Not Being An Asshole 101, actually).

The last leg of my vacation was spending a few days at a fetish event.  It’s been years since I’ve been to one, and I’d never been to this particular one before.  I got my sea legs (sex legs?  what do you call them in this case?) back pretty quickly; it was just like riding a bicycle, if not easier!  I got some ideas of things to write about, but before I move on to any of that, I’ve got to unpack.  One thing I love about this sort of party is there are clearly defined rules, unlike the party going on at a bar or frat house (disclaimer: I’ve never actually been to a frat party).  Yes, you can walk around with as little clothing as you’d like and people have to ask before they do anything but look.  If you say no, that’s it.  End of story.  Occasionally, someone will try some sketchy shit, but then they get kicked out and everyone else makes fun of them.

The thing I don’t love is that, humans being what they are, everyone has their own baggage and they don’t always come prepared to handle it.  The following is a true story of What I Did Not Do Because Some People Can’t Unpack Their Damn Baggage.

First off, the trip to the event:

I rode up with a couple I had met not too long ago.  I don’t know either of them very well, but it was a convenient rideshare for me.  At one point during the drive, a billboard featuring a fit shirtless man sparked a brief conversation about male strippers.  The male half of the couple said something about the women who go see male strip shows being mean and too forward with the men, and added that he “didn’t want to hear anything from the feminists about female strippers being objectified when that shit was happening”.  The first thing I said was, “Female strippers ARE objectified. It’s a valid point, and the one does not negate the other.”*  Among my friends (who are all intelligent and reasonably well-informed folks) the conversation would have gotten interesting from there.  This boy had nothing further to say, so I didn’t go on because I was sure if I did I’d have to start with Why Our Society Sucks For Both Sexes, But In Different Ways, and then Actually, Some Feminists Like Sex And Even Men, and neither of those tutorials are appropriate when 1) The person who needs them does not want to hear them, 2) Said person was just trying to assert his poor self and all the xy folk over The Feminists, and 3) You are stuck in the car with said person for a couple more hours and relying on him for a ride back home as well.  It’s taken a while, but I’ve learned to back off in these situations unless the other party wants to get into a real conversation.

On to the bonus round!  Guess who propositioned me during the weekend and got turned down!  (For an extra point, guess who I’m not going to take a road trip with in the future!)

Second example:

There was a man at this event that I’d slept with before.  I was all set to sleep with him again.  The first night was all well and good, and I met plenty of new people and flirted with plenty of people, and looked at plenty of people.  One of the many people I met the first night was a black man.  Well, at some point the next night, Man I’d Slept With Before (MISWB, from now on) said he’d like to watch me with “the colored man”.  He was on his way into some sexy talk that I’d normally listen to, but I interrupted with, “EXCUSE ME?  Did you just call that man COLORED?”

I may not have used this term in the blog before, but I’m a sapiosexual.  I find intelligence sexy.  I also find it sexy when people can recognise intelligence.  Recognition in this case would have meant saying, “I’m sorry, I heard that a lot growing up and it sometimes slips out when I’m drunk.  You’re right, I can’t believe I just said that!  I’m so embarrassed!”  Did that happen?  No.  Attempts at sexy talk plowed on.  Again, I decided not to press the issue.  I’m feeling a bit conflicted about this now.  That first example was, for me, clear-cut.  Everyone was sober and I had personal reasons not to start a discussion that might turn ugly while on the road.  This one, though, is a bit muddy for me.  At the time, the better angels of my nature would have pushed the issue and demanded to know why that word was being used by a white man in this century.  Instead, I took his lack of response as a sign of sheer ignorance and decided to just walk away.

Second Bonus Round!  Guess who just took himself off the “People I Might Have Sex With In The Future” list!

This second one, I do want to talk about a bit more.  I feel like any decent person would look at that comment from MISWB and say “Oh, Hell No!”, as I do, but I have a few specific things to add:

1) But Sanguine, aren’t racial fetishes a valid part of the vast ocean of fetishy goodness?

Probably, yes.  Pretty much anything that exists has people who have explored it as deeply as is possible.  Racial fetishes are not on that list for me for three reasons.  Firstly, I don’t have any.  An attractive person is attractive to me regardless of race.  The end.  Secondly, I am entirely aware that people who do have racial fetishes sometimes impose them on members of that race in unwelcome and sometimes disgusting ways.  I am not cool with that, and it leads us to . . . . Third, the main fetishes that come to mind for me are the virile black man and submissive Asian woman.  Both of these owe a lot (if not their entire existence) to larger stereotypes about race that are just plain fucked up and I will have nothing to do with them.  If someone belonging to a non-white race wants to play around with any of that it is their own business and thus outside of the scope of my opinion.  All of that is why I am not qualified to tell you anything more about it.

2) Sanguine, you’re overreacting!  People used to use that language all the time!  And also, why do you use the term black and not African-American?

Well, that just about exposes an interesting double-standard I might have.  Oh, wait, no it doesn’t.  I use the term black because that’s what I was taught growing up (Gen X if you need a time frame).  Yes, other people grew up before “black” was in use and still use seriously outdated terms.   MISWB is not old enough for this to be a good excuse.  His parents are, but you know what?  My otherwise very enlightened father still refers to people as “Oriental”.  He has not been able to shake the term he grew up with, but every time he uses it in front of his kids (for example, at Christmas when we usually all make it home at the same time) we all chorus, “Dad!  It’s Asian!  You don’t call people that now!”  So parents can hold onto outdated language while their offspring move on.  Maybe my kids will yell at me one day, but for now the important thing for me is that IF anyone I’m speaking to objects I will apologise and seriously look at what I just said.  I have not yet been called out on it, and I am pretty sure it’s because black is an acceptable term.**

3) You’re getting away from the point.  Weren’t you talking about sex?

          Okay, right.  I’d like to assume anyone reading this did not need point #2, but clearly that’s not the case.  I’d also like to assume that the incident that started me writing about this would NEVER happen but I’d be wrong there, wouldn’t I?  Anyway, sex.  I have had sex with black people.  As stated above, not for fetish purposes.  Because of my non-fetish, I am not okay with someone who carelessly uses racist terms watching me do so.  Yeah, that exists, and no, I am not interested.

4)  Wow!  That’s some good unpacking!  I guess this entry is about done!

          Yeah, it is.  The way my mind works, one topic always leads to another so I could go on forever just hopping around but I do need to break this thing up into entries with labels I remember so I can go back and find stuff.  You know how the manuscript of On The Road was typed?  On a big long continuous roll of paper?  Let’s not do that.  I mean, when it was published it had to be broken into pages that would fit into a book so if I have anything else to say about this I’ll just have to wait for a future post where I can get more in-depth.



*I’m putting this note down here so I don’t interrupt the story.  It’s another disclaimer: Yes, some women enjoy stripping.  Yes, I myself have done things (for pay!) that can be counted as objectification, or potential objectification.  Yes, some of us find some activities personally freeing or empowering.  That whole discussion is one that needs to happen, and one that people have strong views on.  Point is, I’m not hating on strippers, just making an observation on the typical dynamic in our dominant culture.


** I wanted to look into the origin of “black” as a racial term at this point, but need to read up on it a bit first.  Luckily, one of the many things I want to write about is language.  If anyone can point me to a good resource that goes into when and how words came into popular usage and the sociological implications and permutations of such words, I would be grateful.