Today OKCupid began enacting their “Real Name Policy”, as detailed in this awful and condescending blog post.
The response has been overwhelmingly negative. Comments on the blog and on Twitter are correctly filled with apprehension and concerns of user safety.
I’ve deleted my account. I’m “out” enough here and on Twitter. I don’t need OKC forcing my hand to choose a name — even if they will accept “Fuckyou” as a valid name (for now!) — just to wait for them to become the new Facebook and build in “valid” name recognition.
It’s really a pity, because Mrs. AP and I met through OKC, and we met Our Well Hung Lover through OKC, but the place no longer holds to the high standards it once had.
When we’re back into looking for a new playmate or partner again, we’ll just have to go hunting for a service that works well for such things. So long OKC. It was good for awhile, but we have to break up.
It’s not me. It’s you.
Stay SINful, friends.
As a follow-up to the conversation Mrs. AP and I had the other night, Mrs. AP asked me what kind of action / relationship / friendship … thing … for which I’m looking. Evidently my stare of confusion was quite audible even in the dark of our bedroom at night, because she rephrased the question, asking “Are you just looking for some boy bits to play with or are you looking for somebody more long term and permanent for a relationship.” I still needed clarification, however, so in response I asked “do you mean as just a playful swinger kind of thing or as a more poly boyfriend situation kind of distinction?”
“Yes, exactly; play for fun or long-term play?”
I mulled this over in my head some before answering slowly and deliberately “What I want right now is just playful fun with boy parts, for us to suck and fuck and get fucked. That’s what I’m craving. Sexy fun time with another guy or two.”
Truth be told — and that’s why I’m here, right? — that’s not the entirety of what I want. I don’t think it ever has been one or the other for me; it’s always been both.
Hello again, SINful Friends. It’s been some time since I’ve posted anything of substance, hasn’t it? My dearest apologies. Many happenings have intruded upon my writing schedule (what schedule? Hah!), so today shall be a combination of recounting all we’ve missed over the last year and some musings over the future of things. So grab a snack, pour a glass, and get comfy. Potential exists for this to take some time.
Mrs. AP and I had a night out Friday night with SCS and her boyfriend. Well, I should rephrase: half the night was SCS and several of her other friends, the other half of the night SCS’ boyfriend joined us. He was busy for the first half of the night with an income-producing venture, yet he’s currently without clearance to drive, so SCS provides him transportation whenever such opportunities present themselves.
Mrs. AP and I were both feeling better than we had previously in the month, mostly thanks to rest over the previous few days and a healthy dose of drugs designed to let us behave as normal human beings again. While we’re both rather traditionalist and wary of what substances we ingest, thank goodness for modern medicine!
Over the course of the many discussions held over the evening, one theme became apparent; SCS and her boyfriend quite often live very separate lives. Granted, they’ve only been living together a short while, but it struck Mrs. AP and I as being a bit odd that a committed couple would be relatively heavily involved in having social lives that often do not involve one’s partner. Mrs. AP and I simply do not operate that way.
The past few weeks have been the most interesting — and by interesting I mean alternating between frustrating and exhilarating — time for Mrs. AP and I. When last we spoke, Mrs. AP and I were both feeling rather rejuvenated following a wonderful time out at a live electronic dance music show. This warm uplifting afterglow continued only a few more days before we both started coming down sick. First Mrs. AP, followed by myself a few days later, fell brutal victim to something that resulted in sinuses wanting to erupt like Krakatoa before the whole attacking system move south into the chest. As a former asthmatic, I have not felt pressure like that in my chest, nor coughed that long as hard, since my pre-teen days. This felt like every sports team in New York had decided to permanently squat upon my lungs for days. Whatever it is that assaulted me, I do not recommend it.
In the midst of this descending corruption of our immune systems, Mrs. AP and I managed to get in another Friday night with our friends from the dance floor. SCS has some business plan in mind and wanted Mrs. AP, who has a keen financial acumen, to review her plans. The venue of the meeting wasn’t the most conducive to discussing business plans, and all of us where in some portion of not feeling our best, so the discussion was more generalized than specific. It may end up being a worthwhile endeavor with which Mrs. AP and I may be involved, but right now a great many of the details still have to be flushed out. We’ll have to see how well further discussions along that vein run. Besides, one of the fastest ways to kill a friendship is to mix it with business ventures, and we’d rather keep friends than lose them if we can.
Speaking of keeping and losing friends, things appear to have gone rather sideways with Our Crush. We had a lovely time with him later in the night after our night out at the live show, and thought we’d made progress toward establishing a good on between us all. Mrs. AP and I may have been mistaken in that regard; in the two weeks since our last time together, Our Crush has initiated a conversation with one of us fewer than 5 combined times. As a result, Mrs. AP and I are feeling rather disheartened.
This past Friday was good for Mrs. AP and I in ways neither of us foresaw! We both feel alive in ways we’d forgotten. I’ve re-fallen in love with her, awakened anew to how amazing and beautiful a woman she is. Music I once adored and then let drift away from my consciousness has slammed back into me with the force of a lightning strike. Even work, which I had grown to dread, is now just a slight annoyance. My step has bounce. For that matter, so does my sit; I have danced in my chair nearly endlessly the past few nights.
Furthermore, our social calendar has metamorphosed from dusty and barren to teaming with life! Old friendships are being rekindled, new friendships are budding, and our relationship with Our Crush is steadily blossoming. For the first time that I can recall we are coordinating schedules with multiple people outside the home. Events, gatherings, and perhaps even potential dates are being discussed more than one week in advance. These changes are wholeheartedly welcome and embraced! We surely have needed them!
I wish just such happiness on all of you as well.
Stay SINful, friends.
Dating is a confusing enough subject between only 2 people these days. If it wasn’t, there wouldn’t be things like college lectures on how hook-up culture is killing dating. Run a Google Search for Modern Dating, and the top results include multiple posts via the Huffington Post and a (self serving?) post on Match.com. Nearly every magazine available in the checkout line at the larger grocery stores include articles on how to date, how to look best for the first date, how to behave on the first date, how to hold attention after the first date, etc. Constantly there is this bombardment on how and why and when and who to date. The endless barrage of information is maddening.
This is made even more difficult trying to be a Poly couple in search of the elusive Single Bi Male. Mrs. AP and I have been looking, either actively or passively, for the better part of 18 months now. We’ve been more dedicated at some times than others, of course. Our search is, however, hindered by the fact that we can’t simply follow the traditional in-person routine that two single people can. Bars are, essentially, out, which is fine as we don’t really frequent them anyway. We could theoretically meet somebody out at the club, or even at a restaurant or diner or store, but having to explain Poly to somebody who’s never heard of it — in person — leads to more ludicrous looks than is often worth them time. Thus, relying on various online social and dating sites is the fallback on which we need rely.
We’ve had some luck through them. We met Our Crush online first, and have since arranged all three of our dates that way. So far it seems to be working. It is also mildly exhausting. Mrs. AP put it best the other night when she asked if we can just move beyond the dating stage to the relationship stage. She’s right, of course, in that knowing how to act and react inside an established relationship is easier when one (or two) has been out of The Dating Game for as long as we have. Traditional timing and molds don’t seem to carry over in a one to one ratio. Pace, expectation, and the timeline of the relationship all seem to get thrown into a state of turmoil. Lily Lloyd of theblackletherbelt.com calls it The Relationship Escalator. To quote her:
The escalator looks something like this:
> Dating > Sex > Moving In Together > Getting Married > Getting a Mortgage > Having Kids
This progression doesn’t work — may not even be possible to work — when it comes to Mrs. AP and I looking for a potential long-term member of what may very well become a Poly Triad. Restrictions are in place in many ways. Legally, at least within the United States, we may never be able to progress as a Triad from the “Moving in Together” stage to the “Getting Married” stage. The legal standings for such a Marriage are, at best, tenuous. That doesn’t necessarily prevent skipping that stage to the “Getting a Mortgage” part, but in this economy that’s more a pipe dream than anything else. As for kids, Mrs. AP and I already have several children between us in addition to our devastating miscarriage together just a few months ago. We’re not getting any younger, either; the likelihood of complications arising are a notable, worrisome prospect. What, then, is a Poly couple who’s met a wonderfully compatible third person to do?