It’s been six years since this place opened for business. Don’t believe me? Check out the first post! Look at that date! That’s 6 years and 1 day ago! (Look, work was busy yesterday, so I missed the actual anniversary date. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.)
It’s been a long journey, one that’s been pretty quiet (sexually speaking) the past few years. There have been several moves, one that even crossed 4 state boundaries. There have been massive health issues and traumas, and work has gone from something mundane to something practically all encompassing.
But I’m not done yet. I’ll update still, and work harder on getting that writing spark back more often. I did well at the beginning of the year. With hard work and perseverance I bet I can get that going again.
Thanks for coming along for the ride. And if we’ve been naked together, thanks for cumming on that ride, too.
Stay SINful, friends.
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.
Pardon the alliteration, friends, but I’m feeling whimsical. You’ll forgive me, yes?
I stumbled this morning on an excellent piece hosted on the Huffington Post titled “For Bi Guys Thinking of Coming Out” by author Patrick RichardsFink. If you have not already, please go read the piece. Regardless of your gender or sexual identity there are some incredible insights found within the piece, particularly in dealing with the preconceptions most people still carry about sexuality and gender identity being based within the binary normative structure of gay/straight, male/female.
As I have mentioned repeatedly in my writings, I knew comparatively early in my life that I am Bi Male. Additionally, I came to realize later in life that I am also a Queer Male. In my further explorations into the roles of gender and sexual identity as parcel to development and establishing meaningful interpersonal relationships, I have had to undo the same kind of binary thinking still prevalent in modern Western society. Sexuality and Gender are not necessarily static, but may instead exist on a dynamic continuum. It is with this greater understanding, both externally and internally of the fluidity of self-expression, that led me to the belief that Bi-Curiosity is a misnomer, a stumbling block upon the path to actualization. The conversation is not as simple as there being two sides to a coin, but is instead as multifaceted as a Princess-cut diamond. This complexity requires adopting not only a new approach to coming out but also a new mindset to those still within the binary-normative structure.
I feel compelled to write something meaningful and clever and brilliant. To put forth a diatribe on a subject so scathingly polarizing that the annals of history will reference it in years long distant from now as a turning point in the evolution of human history. After all, history is made by the acts of one person expanding and becoming greater than the person. Evidence: Rosa Parks. Benjamin Franklin. Harvey Milk.
Alas, my brain has no such grand expositions readily available at this time. Instead it feels poised, waiting for some brilliant revelation. Whereas I know simply standing back and waiting for life to come to me will never get me anywhere, there is merit in taking a moment to stand and absorb everything that is around in a moment of contemplation and, perhaps, meditation.
Consider this my writing zazen.
Along with the historic votes on Marriage Equality in four states in the United States in November, 2012 also came two historic decriminalization measures passed in the stats of Colorado and Washington. With the passing of these measures there now exists the regulated control of previously illegal substances — specifically marijuana, which is still illegal at the federal level — with which consenting adults can choose to alter their mental states. Until a recent bout of agony did I begin to understand the appeal.
Tonight at work I was shaken by having to deal with some very outspoken white male bigots. I heard one in particular shouting at somebody over the phone (and I beg you, please, excuse the language) “listen to me, you fucking nigger!” Several people in the group laughed, showing genuine amusement at the use of such a negative racial epithet. The same person performing the shouting later remarked that one of the members in the group was “a long-haired faggot” because he was neither drinking with the rest nor had any means of lending assistance to their situation. Again, members of the group laughed, but I could see the pain flicker in the eyes of the victim of the verbal abuse. He knew his compatriots were in the wrong, and attempted several times to apologize in their defense. I felt sad for him. He felt intrinsically complicit in the vitriloic behavior of his comrades yet seemed to me to appear powerless to stop it in that moment. I wished them well, him most of all, and left them to their own devices.
In a similar fashion, there was evidently quite the uproar at the end of last week over some very contentious articles written for various UK publications. The Trans community took offense to some writing by one authori in particular, who in turn rebuked the commenters via what I understand to be ad hominem attacks. This led to attacks on both sides, and spilled forth from there into more public forums. Both sides handled things particularly badly, but some good seems to be coming of the incident. In particular are those providing details of attacks they have suffered from the medical and media communities in addition to private persecution for having the courage to be resolute in becoming inwardly and outwardly comfortable with themselves. The fact that those in the Trans community suffer persecution, particularly in the form of violence, is no secret. What is surprising is how blind to that fact so many people seem to (willingly?) be.
This week’s T.M.I. Tuesday (courtesy of http://tmituesdayblog.wordpress.com/) celebrates Rabbits! Okay, not exactly, but that’s the title this week. Answers are provided by both Mrs. AP and myself for the first time ever! Want to read more? Come on down! (more…)
If you’ve been following the news at all — and I don’t blame you if you don’t anymore, it’s downright depressing how inhumane people can be toward one another — then you’ve likely seen coverage relating to the Hacktivist group Anonymous releasing information regarding a rape case in Steubenville, Ohio. During this case, a group of teenagers known as The Rape Crew documented two high school football players raping an unconscous 16-year old girl. Things have not been pretty since. Outrage has been growing concerning the handling of the investigation by local law enforcement, and has again sparked a discussion about the seeming culture of rape in the United States, wherein victims are often ridiculed or challenged to “not entice attack” by refusing to “dress like a slut.” Incomprehensibly, the accused often faces less ridicule than the accuser, and it seems the more athletic the accused or the higher the accused’s profile, the less chance any type of charge will stick.
As has been documented ad nauseum, victims of sexual and domestic abuse almost always know their attackers. Many often live with those same attackers. It is for that reason that the National Domestic Abuse Hotline immediately notifies anybody visiting the website that connections and internet traffic can be monitored and offers an immediate escape option for somebody who absolutely cannot be caught visiting. While it is a sad fact that some people live in constant, debilitating fear of physical harm by somebody with whom they live, that fact persists nonetheless. Victims of assault come in every sex, gender, age, race, color, and creed. This is a sad, cruel fact from which we often shy but should never forget.
But what about other forms of abuse; forms that cannot easily be quantified or substantiated? Forms that do not leave bruises or abrasions or scrapes or cuts? Forms that cannot be documented easily and presented to law enforcement for the use of building a criminal case? What happens — what does one do — when that abuse is invisible, but nonetheless deadly? It wasn’t three years ago I was asking myself those very questions.
All of us, regardless of background, can trace many of our adult behaviors to either the environment in which we were raised or the character of those who helped raise us, if not both. While there are exceptions to all cases, generally speaking somebody who is raised in an abusive environment will seek escape from the reality of that environment in some form of self-destructive behavior, which then carries on into adulthood. Similarly, a person who is raised in a protected environment may be ignorant of some of the dangers posed by a less gentle, less forgiving segment of society. Those raised in areas in which overt racism is present may be more aware of the effects of how prejudices alter perception, and those raised in areas free of such societal pressures may not understand how deeply run the roots of those prejudices may lie.
I’ve spoken of it before, but for those unaware, the vast majority of my life has been spent living in states south of the Mason-Dixon Line. Additionally, my parents are devout Lutheran Christians, which meant I spent a good portion of my weekends and my afternoons during the Advent and Lent seasons inside a church building. The combination of living in the Buckle of the Bible Belt with deeply devout parents meant that I was nearly always surrounded by people who believed to their deepest cores that the Christian Bible is irrefutably sacrosanct, literally true, and an absolute guide for moral behavior. This belief extended to most major areas of notable Conservative dispute, particularly the areas surrounding evolution and human sexuality. I was taught to belief — and encouraged when reciting or defending the belief — that evolution is not scientifically valid and that humans lived alongside dinosaurs. Any belief in the evidence provided by the fossil record was disputed or discarded simply because it did not fit within dogmatic. Simply put, the scientific method was considered irrelevant and, in a fashion that seems to be uniquely American, cast aside not to be thoughtfully discussed.
As I look back to that time in my life, I often feel shame at being sucked into the arguments provided. My blind faith in the absolute correctness of the Biblical accounts of things being the only way “things could have happened” was borderline fanatical, and impervious to rational arguments challenging my beliefs. Thankfully, my parents taught me to be discerning and thoughtful and to never stop reading, which led to broadening my lens and finding additional information that debunked and thoroughly refuted my prior beliefs. My hypothesis had been wrong, and when presented with overwhelming evidence I was forced to adjust my beliefs to better hold with the evidentiary truth. In just such a manner was I also forced to adjust my views on human sexuality.
Today’s T.M.I. Tuesday questions focus on looking back to when we were younger and comparing our current selves to what we knew or did then. Read my answers below. Find other’s answer at the T.M.I. Tuesday blog.
As I mentioned in my 6-month Anniversary post the other day, I took a brief sabbatical from the blog due to a continuous 11 days of work and the need to recuperate afterward. I’m noticing this is a growing trend among many of my fellow bloggers; if I work from the top down through my blogroll I can find at least 3 examples before I hit the midway point of people who are taking a break in one form or another. Between burnouts, changes in lifestyle, work requirements, or what have you’s these fine people need to step back, catch a breath, and recover. Recognizing when to do so is, I think, one of the keys to living a long and happy life.
Here in the United States, taking a break is not encouraged. It is not mandatory. To some of my international readers, this may come as a shock, but there is no mandatory vacation/holiday time in the United States. Employers have no requirement to provide paid time off, for any reason. For recent parents, the Family Medical Leave Act assures that a mother may take up to 12 weeks off from work to care for her newborn child, but those 12 weeks are not required to be paid time off. Yes, you read that correctly; a mother may take unpaid time off from work for up to 12 weeks to care for her newborn before she must return to work or lose her job. In my current job I am offered no paid time off for any reason; not sickness, not for a death in the family, and certainly not for a vacation/holiday.
Hello again SINful friends. I know I’ve been gone a short time. Do forgive me, please.
When I last left you all I was preparing for a work trip to New York, wherein I worked 36 hours in 3 days. This trip itself was sandwiched between 2 work weeks of my Day Job, wherein I work 48 hours in 4 days, weekly. Combined, I worked 132 hours in 11 days, for a smooth even average of 12 hours a day. I did, in short, burn out a few transistors, blew a few capacitors, and did have to recuperate for these past 3 days in the arms of My Beloved Mrs. AbsinthePassion. Did I mention I adore her? She is the perfect remedy for all that ails me, and these past 3 days have been well spent indeed. Doing what, exactly?
Well, we loved, we fucked, we cuddled, we lay exhausted in each other’s arms, we talked, we planned, we went out to eat when we could afford to and got creative with meals at home when we could not. We played with children and yelled at children and did the same with the puppy and generally lived a typical, normal, every day kind of life.
During my absence here, the 6-month anniversary of the launch of this webspace passed. I wish I could tell all of you, SINful friends, that I took note of it on the day it happened. Sadly, I was instead deep in the embrace first of sleep, and later a minor concussion.
We deal with “what ifs” — the hypothetical situations we all must face when uncertain as to what might happen but for which we want to prepare nonetheless — on a regular basis in our daily lives. Some are minor things, like not knowing what we might want to cook for dinner during the week when grocery shopping, and others are major, such as not knowing where we might land a job after graduating from college/university. Trying to run logistics for long-term planning when the results are still hidden from us becomes an interesting game that is part conjecture, part divination. With some clever planning, attention to detail, and some careful navigation one can usually have a solid plan in place. What happens, though, when the possibilities and variables involved can lead to multiple solution sets that are all equally valid? If you’re like Mrs. AP and I, you start planning for them all! Here’s our load ahead:
Mrs. AP and I have had many an interesting, sometimes frustrating conversation over the past few years regarding politics in the United States. When she first met me — and indeed for some time thereafter — I as very staunchly holding to the views I developed from being raised in a Southern, Military, Lutheran household. While not entirely on the right of the political spectrum, and in fact testing as a conservative-leaning Libertarian, I found myself more often identifying with the Republican Party than the Democratic Party on matters of spending, defense, and social programs. Where I vehemently disagreed was in matters regarding sexual and identity freedom, but thought that by tending to the GOP priorities first the road would more easily open for the social changes required for sex, gender, and orientation equality. I realize now that this view was misguided, a product of a misinformed youth and an ignorant, naive approach to life. Like many others, I find I can no longer balance the iniquities of the Republican Party against the good I assumed they could do. What changed in me that I can no longer, in good conscience, align myself with the ideologies of my yesteryears? In short, I finally matured.
It’s been awhile since I’ve touched on the Polyamorous aspect of the relationship between Mrs. AP and I, and with good reason; we have been without any additional romantic partners for nearly a year now. For those of you keeping score at home, yes, that stretches back to before I began this blog. We did, as documented, visit an on-premise swingers club and play a bit. We also had a date with a friend that resulted in quite a fun time for all. Those two experiences very much trended toward the Swinger end of the Poly/Swing spectrum, however, and didn’t involve most of the more complex emotional aspects I associate with being Poly. One of those aspects is finding compersion.
Compersion, as defined on Wikipedia — because it’s not a recognized word in any dictionary I can yet find — “is a state of empathetic happiness and joy experienced when an individual’s current or former romantic partner experiences happiness and joy through an outside source, including, but not limited to, another romantic interest. This can be experienced as any form of erotic or emotional empathy, depending on the person experiencing the emotion.” Summarized in briefest form, it is experiencing happiness at a partner’s happiness. It is one of the most basic tenets of the emotional maturity landscape encompassing being Poly. it is also the aspect with which, I found, I had the most difficulty.
Well, here we are, first day of August. August is a special month here in the Tampa Bay area; the Tampa Bay Buccaneers NFL team begins preseason games. The Tampa Bay Rays do their best to imitate a professional baseball team. School resumes classes for grade school and college students alike. Temperatures stay scorching, however, and the area’s top-rated beaches — some of the best in the country, even the world — remain a top draw for tourists and locals. August ushers in many changes, and hopefully several good ones for me, but before we get there, let’s take a look back at what July brought:
As I’ve mentioned in my last few posts, I’ve gone from being in a bit of slump to realizing that I was losing focus on my core self while also gaining a better understanding of one of my kinks. As weeks go, that’s a broad spectrum to cover, and no journey so diverse would be complete without some introspection and self-discovery. Enlightenment isn’t quite the correct term, as I still feel very much the philosophical and introspective novice, but some of my realizations have been enlightening. My goal now is to take some of these new understandings and put them into proper practice.
Back with another one of those 30 Days of Truth series updates! Let’s get right on it!
Someone you need to let go, or wish you didn’t know.