A Prayer For Queen Vee

*Warning. Conservative devout followers of any religion might find the following offensive. So don't read it if you are. No one is holding your eyeballs.*

I haven't really had a conversation with anyone about God in long time. Not in terms of religion or child rearing or of politics like 'what are those God-fearing republicans doing to ruin my life as an independent single woman' conversations, but in terms of existence. Though lately, it's one I've been having with myself. A lot.

A few years ago, the last God conversation I can remember having actually, I found out my best friend didn't believe in God but followed almost every tradition in her religion (or is it culture?) to the T. (I still have trouble understanding that, though it does kind of make me a hypocrite...I need to ask her again.) I tried to form my own opinion about it and came up with my own need to believe in God, not in the traditional sense, but in some kind of higher power. I thought, something has to be responsible for all this...all this existence. Life is too beautiful despite the ugly to think otherwise. I needed to believe something was hearing me. But all the while I also believed somewhere in my consciousness that God was the collective belief of humans to find meaning in life and to give it rules to follow.

I don't need the threat or reward of a promised afterlife to live my life well. (Well is of course a relative term, but you know what I mean.) Logic based in religion makes no sense to me...I'm not going to murder, steal from, cheat or hurt anyone because I might end up in some kind of Dante's Inferno? How about I won't do these things because they are bad and I wouldn't want them done to me? Why is there no inherent value in people's behavior? Can't say I've never done wrong but how can taking the lord's name in vain and killing someone land me in the same place? Better yet, both be absolved with a simple confession and a few Hail Marys? I've been a goody goody my whole life, aside from the cursing, a few hurt feelings and a lot of inner snarky thoughts, but if I don't ask forgiveness will I not get into heaven? Will not believing get me a free pass to hell? But isn't God supposed to be forgiving?

I suppose it's time for me to admit that I've lost my faith. Any lapsed Roman Catholic due to a disagreement with the Church can probably relate. I have come to consider myself an Agnostic, but I feel like a cheater. I can't commit fully to either belief. I've never even come close to saying out loud that I don't believe in God...my father would be crushed. One of the few things he has ever asked of me was to attend Church, which I did dutifully until I became an adult and could not stand to go. He has never told me how sad it makes him that none of his children attend services but I know he is disappointed. The last time we touched on the subject I made him understand that I did not agree with the Church but I did believe in God, praying every night for things like the safety of my family, the health of my sick aunt and a job promotion. At the time I did.

It breaks my heart to break his so I will never tell him that my faith has changed. I still pray to God every night, but I don't know why. Habit maybe. I want to believe so badly that there is something up there watching over, but I know it's ridiculous to think that of the billions of people on this earth, my prayers for a new job or a man to hold my heart are the ones that are not only going to be heard, but granted as I ask for them. Especially if I'm just thinking them. But then again, maybe I'm limiting my image of God. Maybe Almighty means hearing billions and billions of voiced and internal prayers for both selfish and selfless things. I don’t know. I just have a hard time believing there's someone/thing at the controls now. Maybe there was at the very beginning, but not anymore.

The more history I learn the more I realize how politically charged religion is and always has been, and how those in power manipulate the rules to keep those who toil in line. How can you believe killing in God's name is something God would want? I know there are those who do because it's what they've been taught, but I also know there are others who know it's simply an ideal strong enough to limit human free will. From the Crusades to modern times. This is why it makes sense to me that God is man made...it is a tool one can use to manipulate another to further his own desires. Even the purest idea of God as simply the creator of all things favors man above all else.

Maybe the big bang is God and we are all praying to a scientific event that has no human-type ability to think or free will to control the elements it made. Or maybe evolution is something God set up to watch as a movie. Time moves differently for the omnipotent.

All this to say I don't know. The days I believe in something greater are becoming less I think, but as a result it makes me want to live my life better, sooner. At least in theory. This is all I know I have. I'm not saying anyone should change their beliefs; everyone has to do what they have to in order to survive this reality. I'm just saying don't rely on an afterlife for fulfillment ( or punishment.) I do believe in Karma though the passing of it to different lifetimes is questionable. Maybe that is a silly belief of mine. Like a cloudy bed or seven subservient virgins after death. But like you to yours me to mine. And I'll probably never stop praying. Whether I'm being heard or not, oddly enough I think it helps reminds me of the limitless as well as the limitations of my life.

So Queen, take your own damn advice and get out there. Stop praying about it and actually open your heart fer godssakes. Because if God's watching she's only shaking her head at how boring you are.

Meanie Virgeenie

I have never intentionally been mean to anyone (with the exception of E and A when I was a pre-teen and crumbled under peer pressure) at least I like to think so. At the very least, I try not to be mean. The pointed, I'm-doing-this-to-hurt-you mean, I mean. I would never recover from the guilt. I lose sleep replaying something I've said over in my head if I think I may have possibly, maybe, slightly hurt someone. It kind of sucks.

I'm not saying I'm Nicey McNicerson all the time, far from it. If thought bubbles were an actuality people would probably spit at me as I walked by...course their thought bubbles would be visible too so they shouldn't be throwing stones. But anyway when and if I do do something mean it's most likely unrealized and by accident.

Case in point: I went to a work party recently and my now ex-boss showed up. I had already had 2 drinks by the time I saw her so my mind was already wandering. You know how people gather around into small circles to shout at each other over the music at those things? Well, she was in a circle that consisted of me, someone we had both just met, someone else's back who was part of another circle and me. It didn't hit me until after the party that I didn't even make an effort to speak to her. Although, this also means she didn't make an effort either, I felt kind of bad for not really acknowledging her. I don't know why really because I don't like her. Why should I feel bad for not chatting up someone I dislike and felt mistreated by when I worked for her?

It's also not the first time I've done that...to her. (I'm coming to the realization that avoidance can equal being mean given the right circumstance.) At other work functions I did my best to avoid her and I'm pretty sure she always attributed it to the fact that she was my boss. (I'm not a big fan of small talk in general, but to have to do it with someone I hated at the time? See I'm growing! Hate has diminished into dislike. It's all about time.) My co-workers also did some avoiding, but not to the degree I did. At any rate, I think she may now finally realize that it wasn't because she was my boss. See, even now it makes me feel bad to think she finally knows that I don't like her because it might hurt her feelings. Why do I care about her feelings? After all the shit she pulled?

I don't think she's a bad person. I just don't like her. And it took a long time for me to admit that. I've probably said this before so forgive me if I'm repeating myself...but there aren't that many people who I take an active disliking to- I mean, yes there are a lot of people I probably don't like but I don't think about them enough for it to consume any energy. And once she passes out of my consciousness it won't be an active dislike anymore either, but she'll never regain any kind of footing in my eyes. Man, she just rubs me the wrong way.

But then I found out something that made me feel even worse for a little while, until I realized it didn't change the way I felt about her. Apparently she had some marital problems and just got a divorce. She was married for less than three years. It explains a little about her work ethic and her general attitude over the past few months but I'm not going to forgive her treatment of her workers just because of it. I am wiling to give people a lot of rope, god knows I need it at times, but I just can't with her. Maybe because her ridiculousness with me began way before any of her general bad attitudes began. I don't know. I just don't need to be around someone who makes me feel mean for not liking her. You know?

Backtracking...new boss has the potential to mean less crappy time at work, no? No. Not when new boss doesn't have the right experience and gives me a hard time about taking vacation days. In her defense, she's new and doesn't want to make waves, and she didn't really give me that hard a time but she questioned me when she didn't need to, mostly because she read the email wrong. Because I had to deal with that on a daily basis with the old boss, it does not bode well for new boss to start with that. And not that I'm some old timer that knows the HR handbook backward and forward, but I've been there long enough to deserve certain allowances. I've been screwed out of a lot of things at this company, I will not allow vacation time to be one of them.

I also heard that good things were being said about me among the top layer and while that is a great thing that I am excited about, I will not allow my hopes to raise because someone has to quit or die for me to be promoted. And even if that does happen, they'd probably put me through the ringer and then hire someone else anyway. That's the way it works.

So in conclusion, old boss out, new boss gathering strikes, I'm finally getting a little recognition for my work but I'm not holding my breath for an actual reward and um....Oh...I guess I can be unintentionally mean if I don't like you.

Virgins can be mean, who knew?

For The Love Of Vacation

"The trouble is not that we are never happy-it is that happiness is so episodical. All I really care about...can almost frighten me with happiness. But then it's gone and I cannot see what holds it all together."
-Ruth Benedict

I need to get out of here, and by here I mean the daily grind which for me takes place in NYC. One upon a time a few years ago I saved up, quit my job and jetted off to Europe for a couple months with the intent to revive my spirits. It worked...for a while anyway. The daily grind has a way of robbing life's color after awhile if you let it. Apparently I have. (A work update is needed and will be provided...eventually.) Though I don't feel the same way I did when I upped and quit a few years ago, I am at the point where if I don't get a little time off to explore new things and meet new people I might go mad.

Realistically that just means a boring kind of depression, one that doesn't require medication or therapy because it really doesn't register on the needing actual help scale. It's just a general melancholy that surrounds me...kind of like pigpen's dirt. Basically, I let the happy episodes occur further and further apart with nothing to connect them. I need a reminder (a memory can only get me so far) of how absolutely amazing life can be when you're not chained to 40 hour work week. Or should I say 50.

In Holland their starting vacation time is 4 weeks. I really do believe I would be a happier person if I had more time off. This 2 week corporate bullshit is harming its workforce, not increasing production. And with the turn-over of jobs so high, who sticks around one company long enough to get to that 4 week allowance?

There is so much to do and see and so little time to do and see it.

I do have a small vacation to a tropical island coming up, which is much needed. The thought of sitting half naked on a beach with daiquiri in hand makes me want to melt with relief. I haven't had a real vacation in two years. That's not to say I haven't had time off, it's just that I didn't go anywhere relaxing or new and interesting to explore. Mom and Dad's house doesn't count as vacation.


Though I think Ms. Benedict was speaking more in terms of love being the great connector, here is my offering of how to potentially connect episodes...vacation. (sigh)

Involuntary Virginity

Salon.com has finally found a label. Though I am not excusing my status as something happening to me instead of a kind of choice to not make sex a priority, I do believe much of this article speaks directly to me. Or rather, to non-virgins curious about how someone in their late 20s could still be a virgin and not totally f'ed up.

"The phenomenon of involuntary virgins, on the other hand, exists underground in liberal America, where sophisticated career women are supposed to have active sex lives and gyms offer pole dancing and stripping classes as a kind of aerobics."

I'm an underground phenomenon. Go me!

Involuntary virgins, on the other hand, may have missed that dating phase in high school (perhaps they were buried in their books) and probably missed it in college too, so once they enter the real world, one with more adults, they start to feel left behind...

Really could not have said this better. They also talk about performance anxiety which though I don't want to admit, plays into the situation.

"I remember thinking when I was in high school, 'Yeah if I had a boyfriend I would sleep with him,'" says Katie, a journalist in New York, who didn't lose her virginity until she was 28. "I thought when I got to college I would have this garden of eligible candidates to choose from. But people didn't really date. It was a hookup scene I was never really comfortable with."

Oh Katie. We would probably be good friends if we knew each other. My problem with the 'hookup scene' is that I didn't go out to get drunk and find lots of random frat boys cute enough to make out with. I wanted to, believe me, but being a) allergic to alcohol and b) uninterested in trying to fend off the cute, drunk frat boy when he wanted more than I was willing to give kind of put a damper on things. (*Note- the one time I did get enough alcohol in me to actually lessen the inhibitions, Jean pulled me away and we went home. On the one hand, in retrospect he was an asshole so it's one less asshole that I've made out with, but on the other hand, WTF? She denied me the chance to make out with an asshole. And it was just the beginning of what would be a disasterous friendship anyway. Uh.)

I'm pretty sure that the kind of guy I'm interested in won't be bothered by the fact though I still don't plan to tell him until afterwards. Not that he won't be able to guess...there are some things I'm pretty good at hiding, but I am not a good liar and if he's smart/sensitive enough he'll probably figure it out himself anyway.

So cheers to the new phenomenom!...or the once traditional prize-wife (ech) gone obsolete. Let's make a comeback girls! Though I do not recommend having your hymen replaced with plastic surgery partly because that's just not a healthy way to deal with your sexuality, but mostly because, well ew.

A Letter Of Contempt

Dear people who say, "he'll show up when you least expect it" or "you'll find him when you're not looking":

F U
I've been actively least expecting, not looking for him for a good 28 years. Where is he?

Love,
Queen Vee

What Part Of Sleep With Don't I Get?

For all the people I've not slept with there are people I've slept next to, a fact that in practice probably adds to my overall anxiety. Learning about the things you do in your sleep from someone else is discomforting. This probably reveals more than I'd like it to about my control issues. I can't control what I do in my sleep and it freaks me out. I've been told that I laugh and also that I grind my teeth. Nothing that embarrassing there. I know from waking up with a wet face that I also cry in my sleep. Also not bad. But what about the big Os I think I occasionally experience while sleeping? The fear of that happening while asleep next to someone is enough to keep me awake all night just to avoid it.

But then there's also just having someone next to me period that throws me off. I've been sleeping alone now for so long, it's strange to have someone else in the room let alone in the bed. If there is such a thing as psychic energy I'm pretty sure that just because their brain works my sleep is disturbed by whoever is next to me. (Though in all likelihood I wouldn't be able to sleep next to a dead person either. But I digress.) No matter how tired I am, how good a friend it is, how many times I've slept next to them or what is on my mind, it always takes me forever to fall asleep with someone else around. In any case, they always fall asleep first.

As long as they aren't snoring, the steady soft breathing of a sleeping person does hold a kind of comfort. That is, once I get past being annoyed that I'm not asleep yet and have to listen to them happily sleep breathing.

I would like to believe that it's something that will go away once I've begun sleeping with someone on a regular basis (the virgin said without a hint of irony.) Of course, I've got to take into account my light sleeper status and obvious habit of over analyzing my every interaction with the world and its with me.

Who else would analyze the actual sleep part of sleeping with someone? You can count on me.

And Yes...

I need to stop reading other people's comments about their older virgin friends and how weird it is. Or worse, how disturbed they must be to still be a virgin after 30. Just because you don't do something everyone else does doesn't mean you are totally f**ked in the head. Ok yes, obviously I have some issues, thus the reason for starting this blog...I'd rather be an anonymous therapy patient than an actual one, but I'm not frigid nor a prude nor that messed up (I think. I'm not trying to make my issues bigger than they really are. I'm pretty sure they can be overcome.) And yes on the flip side of that, there are older virgins out there who are some or all of these things, but blanketing us all with the stigma is doing nothing for my insecurity about it.

I don't really see my virginity as something I'm hanging onto, because I'd gladly lose it if I could find someone I wanted to lose it to. And yes I hope it'll be someone I'm in love with, but at this point, I'll settle for someone I have chemistry with and who makes me feel comfortable (which I have to say again is odd that I haven't come across someone like this. I'd say I was comfortable with myself and my body, so I don't think that's the issue. Am I mixing up comfort with safety? If so, why am I so obsessed with feeling safe?) I'm only afraid of sex so far as I've never done it so I don't want to look like a total ass when I do do it (and of course the whole getting pregnant thing. And yes I have heard there's no really right way to do things, it just kind of happens. It's of no consolation to someone who's never been even close to it almost kind of sort of happening.)

Older men seem to flock to me (perhaps because I don't view them as threatening in any way and am myself and comfortable around them) but the ones my age are either scared of me or assume I already have a boyfriend or I don't know what. But all of these things combined have left me in an inexperienced state both mentally and physically when it comes to men. And YES I'm going to blame my mother yet again for all her anti-men type messages growing up which lead to my eventual avoidance of the whole relationship situation. The situation that everyone and their uncle seems to not only have experienced, but experienced many times with many people in many ways.

All I know is, if you met me on the street you'd probably think I was just another NYC chick with a string of broken hearts (not a self-description) behind her. If after getting to know me a little better, outside of romantic relationship revelations, would you suddenly think I was mental if you somehow found out I was a virgin? Everyone has issues. This is just mine.

I don't know why I'm trying to justify my normalness. It only enables the stereo-typers to raise their eyebrows and nod their heads. Considering this blog is pretty much a one sided conversation, maybe I'm just trying to convince myself I'm not a lost cause.

Maybe one day I'll even figure out how to help me help myself.

Still Undecided

I still really can't decide how I feel about this. Clearly I'm bothered by it, but why? Am I just jealous that she's able to date all these guys without having to do any work? Or does it absolutely irk me that both she and the magazine are making a huge deal out of her virginity? Why does it have to be so weird that a 29 year old hasn't had sex? Ok, the fact that this blog is solely dedicated to my own virginity aside, it is not the most pressing thing in my life. Nor is it it a priority to find the 'one' to lose it to, though truth be told it is on the list. It just has a written next to 'one' instead of the. At least for the moment. I know guys who may not end up being for me can be good (as in genuine). I just have to relax enough to find one.

I somehow got into another conversation with my mother about having babies. She said you have to find someone soon I want a grandchild. I said, well what if I got pregnant but didn't have a man? I don't think that would be very responsible. What would I do? She said, well you could still do it. You could come live with me.

I think I'm going to vomit.

Virgins From Hell 2: Electric Boogaloo*

Friday, 2:43pm, Excerpt

...
JJ: i actually lost a few hundred and was depressed in ac and decided to call her at like 3am
JJ: she didn't return the call b/c we were hardcore for awhile
Queen Vee: she was on another booty call.
JJ: haha maybe. but we kept each other around for awhile b/c of the sex
JJ: the best is she came to nyu and i went out with a bunch of friends
and then this other girl i was banging showed up at the bar. I had to sneek Vicki out
Queen Vee: you are such a player
JJ: no no. it was all college. man, i miss those days
...

I usually log off before he can ask me about one of my sexual exploits. He would wet himself the second he found out I haven't had any. check that, he'd have his pants around his ankles asking if he could be my first. Nothing like having a younger guy friend tell you stories about how dumb and slutty his ex-girlfriend was. The more I hear, the more likely I am to become one of these:


*Starring Queen Vee!
HA!!

I, Virgin, Do Thee Wed

Well...the wedding I didn't want to attend happened last week, thus my lack of weekly wanking about virginity, and now I probably have enough for a book. Heh heh. But I'll try to make a long story short because I don't even want to write it all, let alone read it.

So it begins with my mother calling to tell me that L broke up with her boyfriend. Forgive me if I'm repeating myself...I said, "so...?" I knew exactly where she was going but I wanted to hear her say it. She says, "So that means she won't have a date for the wedding." "And that affects me how?" "I'm just saying..." "Mmmhmm."

Oh mom. I know she only wants me to feel better, but having another single girl there really doesn't change my situation or how I feel about it. Anyway, come to find out 5 minutes after arriving that her sister A just broke up with her boyfriend and was there alone- L was already on to her next boyfriend who stood within 2 feet of her all evening. Zing!

The wedding itself was fine, pretty traditional (aside from the non-church ceremony both parents were furious about) but nice to catch up with some childhood friends I haven't seen in a while. Only once the entire evening was I asked the question I hate:

Auntie M: So where is your escort?
Auntie M's Daughter, sitting beside her boyfriend: MOM!
QV: Eh, there was no one suitable enough...
Auntie M: See? No one suitable enough.

And then she moved on to wherever she was headed. I was surprised not more of my parents' friends asked, but I think because my parents are no longer up here that they were more interested in talking to them than to me for once.

Both A and L are strikingly pretty, at least I think so. I mean, no one can deny they are pretty but every time I see them, usually after a few years have passed, I am reminded just how beautiful they are. Like me, their father is not American which attributes to their exotic features. Anyway, the point of this is a ridiculous one but I'm going to make it anyway because like every woman I have days of low esteem and this made me feel better.

After the wedding my mother and I talked about how everyone looked, and I said how pretty those two in particular looked. She said, as every mother is required to say:

Mom: You were prettier.
QV: Thanks mom, I relieve you of your duty now.
Mom: Everyone else said so too.
QV: Oh? And just who is this everyone you speak of?
Mom: Four people told me! Auntie M, Auntie E, Auntie J and...Uncle D. (All my parents friends are aunties and uncles.) I didn't hear any of them tell Auntie N (A and L's mom) that.
QV: You are too much. What, did you attach yourself to Auntie N's ass all night listening?
Mom: I'm not lying.

As utterly juvenile as it is, there's something to be said for hearing about how pretty you are when you've been standing next to two of the prettiest girls you know all night.

Ok last story. In the car home I also learned some things that were none of my business, but the groom's mother has no filter on what should and should not be shared so I found out. She told my mother pretty much every last detail about her son's personal life along with all the wedding details, which my mom went on to share with me. I doubt my mother would have said anything if I hadn't started the conversation, but whatever. It really was innocently started. Before the wedding I remembered her telling me that they lived together. When I talked to the groom at the wedding I caught up on the details. It was one of those things where telling me something fit whatever point she was trying make even though it wasn't true, and when I called her on it later she would deny ever saying it.

QV: You know, they don't live together.
Mom: I know. He's there now and she's moving in after.
Then it transitioned but for the life of me I can't remember how.
Mom: Auntie D told me everything. About the wedding, about the bride's father...they're waiting until they're married.
QV: (utter disbelief) What.
Mom: That's what they told her. They're waiting until they're married.
QV: No way. That's bull.
Mom: That's what she said they told her.
QV: I don't believe it.

But I kinda do. I can't imagine why they would wait, they've been together for like six years, but there is something that rings true about it. He would have no cause to tell his mother anything, let alone that he was waiting because he told her to mind her business when she tried to involve herself in the wedding plans. I spent a lot of time growing up in that house and communication about things like that was so not part of the scene. I can't imagine he was trying to make her happy by telling her that. I also just can't imagine them having this or any other conversation like it to begin with so what do I know. Maybe he really is just a good little Catholic boy (who for some reason didn't want a Catholic ceremony...).

I almost said, well I'm not waiting! at the end of that exchange but A) none of my parents' business and B) I think my dad might have had a heart attack. Not because I'm planning on having sex before marriage, but because I'm so adamant about it. Though knowing my dad, he may believe I've already slept with someone. I mean, I always picture him as the naive father who believes his daughter is a princess, but he's the one who surprised me by thinking I had started drinking before I actually had. So why should this be any different? Course, God doesn't have anything to say about drinking whereas sex is a different story. And I'm sure he's also thinking, she's almost 30. She's had to have it by now.

Uh.

Anyway, my point with this whole damn post is that for once I was not the only virgin in the room. Yay me!

Course, 12 hours later the title would again be mine. Perhaps 24 if they were tired from dancing and drinking all night.

"Why Did You Spread Those Vicious Lies?"

"Cuz you didn't spread those vicious thighs."
-Strangers With Candy, "The Virgin Jerri"

I had a dream a few nights ago that I was pregnant, 9 months from the size of me. Then like a movie scene, it cut to me holding the baby in my arms as it gazed up into my eyes. Freaky thing was, the baby looked exactly like I did when I was about 2 years old. Suddenly it hit me that I had to go to work and had no where to leave her, so I brought her with me. At the end of the day I looked around but couldn't remember where she was. Then I realized she was already in the van, ready to go home. I got in and turned away for a moment, and when I looked back she was gone. I started crying and yelling that someone had kidnapped her. I woke up with tear filled eyes.

Becoming pregnant is a gigantic fear of mine. Well, one among the many obviously, but it's pretty loomy sometimes. It's just one of those things that is stuck in the recesses of my brain and no matter how hard I prove it (with known facts and statistics) to be a ridiculous fear, it remains heavy and foreboding. Hello, birth control! condoms! what have you! I still believe that I will get pregnant despite it all. The fact that the percentage is minute and usually due to user error, that's enough for me. And I can't handle it. I can't handle the thought let alone the actuality. (This is all assuming I'd have to do it alone because the guy I chose to have sex with will not be interested in sticking around.)

It's like...a phobia. I'm sure there's a name for it. There's a name for every fear out there....

Sweet sassy there is. It's called Tocophobia. Though, that's more the fear of actually being pregnant. My fear is more, how can I care for a kid if I can't even handle myself? Let's see if there's a name for that...Automatonophobia- fear of ventriloquist dummies, Consecotaleophobia- Fear of chopsticks, Mycrophobia- Fear of small things, Novercaphobia- Fear of your step-mother, Phronemophobia- Fear of thinking (for real?).

Possibilities: Pedophobia- Fear of children, Genophobia- Fear of sex, Hominophobia- Fear of men...

The closest I can find is Atychiphobia- Fear of failure. And I guess getting pregnant before I'm ready would be a huge failure for me because I wouldn't know what to do except crawl back to mom in the hopes that she'd help. Maybe it's another control issue, as in looking back on my life I've always had some kind of control over what was next. Am I still so much a child myself? How can that be? Or is it because I don't want to do it alone? I want to give my child what my parents gave me? A happy childhood, albeit an over-protected one? One in which once grown they can say, "Mom, you f**ed me up in your own way but I'm still a good person and I love you?" At any rate it's something I can't provide because I have way too many non-happy-wtf days myself, lost in thought as to why the girl who is caring for me is doing such a sh*tty job.

Where was I going with this? Oh right, reason number 13,240 why I haven't had sex yet.

Maybe if I actually starting taking birth control I might feel differently. And maybe I'll get a lobotomy and won't feel anything at all. And maybe, just maybe, fate really does exist and will intervene at any moment. Like now.

Or now.

Or how 'bout now?

Ah screw it. Who wants an absolute neurotic virgin girlfriend who has trust issues?

Now don't crowd me boys. If you've had a vasectomy (and put some swimmers on ice) I might even look in your direction twice.

I Suspect My Expectations

"Hold me as long my body's shaking
Hold me as long I'm anticipating
Hold me as long your woman's waiting
Don't be shy I'm inviting you, I'm inviting you
So lay your hands your hands on me"
-Beth Hart

This song makes me want strip off my clothes. If you are in the need of a soulful rock and blues voice, you must check out Beth Hart. She will rock you inside out.

I've come to the (brilliant) conclusion that I will never be able to ask someone to lay their hands on me if I never knowingly risk disappointment. It sounds odd...like I should have said hurt. Maybe I mean both. I don't know. But I realize that I've been living under the "no expectations, no disappointments" rule, and it extends far beyond what it should.

I had a performance of a kind a few weeks ago and I was genuinely surprised by the number of my friends who actually showed up. There were a few I allowed myself to expect to be there, safe in the assumption that I would not be disappointed, but most I had already made excuses for because I knew they had other engagements, early mornings, etc. I think I could go so far as to say I felt honored...yes I know it's dramatic and most likely just my overblown sensitivity acting up, but I was thrilled to have them all there, and all there for me.

So am I underestimating my own value in their lives or am I underestimating their abilities as good friends who would of course come out to support me?

I don't want to play victim and cry about how many times I've been disappointed in (hurt by?) people, because in reality I've only been burned a few times. Granted Jean is an extreme case, she was not the first, nor the last I imagine though apparently I'm doing my best to try to make it so. Oh, too late. And I do still have people in my life who I love but who I can actually now predict when they will disappoint me. I'm doing my best to keep the expectation low and accept them for who they are, forgetting things that are important to me a part of it, because I know everyone has their own issues and I am far, far, far from perfect. I can always tell when I begin to expect because it stings.

When friends of friends or acquaintances ask something of me this rule comes in handy because I know if the situation was reversed I would most likely end up on the losing side. Perhaps that's a dark view of people but I've experienced just enough to know it's true. I would give my good friends the shirt off my back, but anyone else would just get a sideways glance and I don't feel guilty because I can say if I was on fire they wouldn't stop to piss on me. Part of this, and this is going to sound completely backward, is that I trust too easily. I always want to believe the best in people, despite all the cynicism I just spewed, or that at the very least they are not out only for themselves. So I don't usually let people in and end up trusting them to my own detriment. But then again, what about all the suspicion I've blubbered about being a part of the reason I can't meet anyone?

(shrug) You got me. I want to believe the best in people and am extremely suspicious of them at the same time. How f**ed is that?

If I'm honest I can make the distinction. New people I meet who are going to be part of my life through necessity, whether it be at work or socially, I need to believe that in their dealings with me they would only treat me with the same courtesy I give them, the Golden Rule so to speak- (i.e., there was no reason for my old boss to be condescending or withholding of opportunity because I had done nothing to her, and yet she was.) There's where the expectation usually gets me in trouble. New people can be men or women, and I've been right and wrong about them. And it has nothing to do with judging character...or maybe in trying not to judge it does.

New people I meet who seem to want to be a part of my life, that is express interest, I am extremely suspicious of because I know it's only a matter of time before they'll want something from me. These new people are usually men. Surprise! (Though not that many have tried.) Whether it be 2 minutes or 2 years, it's just so easy for me to judge their motives as being shallow or selfish. (That sounds awfully harsh, but if you haven't noticed I have some issues with sex.) Sad isn't it?

So basically I want to believe the good in everyone but am fully aware of how naive that is. All the while I'm doing my best to keep from falling into the trap by suspecting everyone (except friends with whom I apparently have varying degrees of expectation), I still end up falling into it and being disappointed. (Hurt! Who am I fooling?) But that's life right? The only thing I'm doing is walking into the traps blindfolded, so why don't I do it why my eyes open? Maybe it'd be easier to deal with after a while? I'm still a sensitive sap, but the disappointment doesn't hurt like it used to (which actually may or may not be a good thing. Am I numbing myself in the process?)

I'm just saying, an off switch placed somewhere behind my left ear would do me wonders.

Predicting The Past

I wonder what it would have been like for me if I had been of marrying age in the fifties. I'd probably be married to D with two or three kids by now. At least, I'd like to think since he's the only one I liked at the same time he liked me. Not that I would know but I feel like that may have been enough for a lot of people back then.

At any rate, I wouldn't be a virgin anymore.

Isn't it ironic?

Eyes On The Prize

So it was only a matter of time before I got around to blogging about that 29 year old virgin all over Jane magazine's website. I am still trying to formulate an opinion about the whole charade. To be fair I haven't read through everything...I only made it through a couple he said/she said blogposts about the dates before becoming dangerously close to shooting myself.

I mean, in terms of meeting men it's a brilliant scheme. Get a couple hundred people to send in potentials, have a magazine screen out the obvious mental cases and pay for every date, then have the reading public vote on which guy you should go out with...Voila! There's no work required of her in finding suitable men to get to know in 5 hours or less. Plus absolutely no pressure because she has a new date tomorrow night. No guilt for hurt feelings because all the Jane readers and others drawn to the ridiculousness will be in on it. He's just a fool if he thinks he'll get away unscathed for admitting he feels there's a "connection" and she doesn't.

On the other hand...ew. Does she honestly think she's going to find a guy she "connects" with when the first person every date meets is a 'handler' (fancy word for production assistant of a just graduated college and this is their first paying job kind) who sticks a mic pack down his pants and leads him to a specified place of meeting? Oh they are all so honest in their blogs about how the people swarming around them listening to every word is only slightly distracting, but after a while it's fine and they can't wait to go out with her again to really get to know her.

Vomitous.

It's the bachelor(ette) all over again, only it's about her being a virgin rather than her need to get married because she's in her late twenties, single and childless. Which put in those terms actually kind of makes it acceptable. Here's to hoping she's only in it for the sex. I will laugh my ass off if the payoff post reads:

"Chad was so charming and cute! We hit it off immediately and the connection was hot! After our dinner at Nobu which we could barely get through without touching one another, we cabbed it back to my apartment where I threw him down and made him make a woman of me. Three times! Thanks Jane! I never thought I'd finally find my fuckbuddy!"

Two months and counting...

The Devil's Premarital Playground

My parents raised me Catholic. Or rather, my father did as my mother never attended services. Every Sunday up through college I went to either church or CCD, which I cannot for the life of me remember what it stands for other than Sunday school. When I got a little older they moved CCD to a weekday evening, probably just to inconvenience the parents who had to chauffer their kids everywhere. There are exactly three things I remember about my nine years of actual lessons, where I allegedly learned about God.

1. An African American teacher I had who had a voice like Maya Angelou, fluid and passionate and full of warmth. What she taught though, I haven't a clue.

2. After our hour was up when I was really young they would lead us to the cafeteria where we would meet up with our parents and eat cookies.

3. An awkward bow legged teacher whose toes pointed inward when he walked. Out of all the classes I attended, there is one specific class of his that I will never forget. He said, "Ok we're going to play a game, everyone stand up. If you believe premarital sex is ok go to that side of the room. If you don't then stay over here."

Being all of about ten years old, I wasn't exactly sure what premarital sex was. I'd never heard the word premarital. I slowly inched my way over to the ok side since that's where most of the kids were headed, and sidled up to someone I knew. I asked in a whisper what premarital meant and she shrugged. When all was said and done, three quarters of the class of ten year olds apparently thought the sins of the flesh before marriage was just fine.

When he finally said, probably a little shocked, "You all believe it's ok to have sex before you are married?" I was relieved that I had picked the side I really did believe in. I obviously didn't know that much about sex, but it never occurred to me that it was wrong. Perhaps I missed all those sermons. I'm sure we received a stern lecture thereafter about how it was absolutely evil and sinful but like all things forgettable I forget.

What I do remember is that religion was never part of sex for me. I'm not saving myself for anyone. I've just gotten so good at being uncomfortable around men it's easier to avoid getting into a potential sexual situation. I guess I need someone who's willing to keep trying. I know, who has that kind of energy? All I can do is hope someone does. Won't the reward be all the sweeter? For us both?

Who Would I "Do"?

I was fifteen the first time another girl hit on me. One summer evening at sleep away camp (don't they all begin like that?), my fellow campers and I slowly made our way to the communal bunk house. As we sat around chatting an older girl looked at me and said point blank, "Are you a lesbian?" I was caught off guard but collected myself enough to shake my head no. She shook her head and said loudly, "Why are all the cute ones straight?"

I have to admit, I did wonder there for a little while about my sexuality. I've never actually been attracted to a woman, but then again, I've only been attracted to a small number of men. In playing the 'what celebrity would you do' game there are always one or two beautiful women on the list along with all the beautiful men. Fantasizing about (celebrity) men and women were equal for a while, until I actually kissed a few guys and felt the sexual energy of it.

It's pretty easy to fantasize about something I have no fear of ever actually experiencing. I mean, if Vanessa Marcil came up to me and said 'let's get busy', I'd probably respond with 'um...maybe later. I have a stomach ache' and run out of the room even though she's absolutely gorgeous. However, if D said it with the promise that he wouldn't want to marry me I'd give him a strip tease to start us off.

Now the fantasies mostly involve males. And mostly D since I've apparently convinced myself that I'm comfortable with him. When it comes down to it (in academic terms since they are the only ones I know) they're still due to my childlike curiosity about physical pleasure, something I am old enough to know can be satisfied by a number of things. Because I have so little experience, all I can do is wonder.

Now before everyone starts with, you have lesbian fantasies? Get over yourself, you're gay, let me say this: no matter what your sexual orientation, if you haven't at least thought about it you're probably not human. Especially in today's sex sells culture. If you define homosexuality as simply intercourse with the same sex, then anyone who has had a homosexual experience (or mere thought) is gay in your book. If you include love, passion, understanding and promise in relation to intercourse between members of the same sex, well then you're defining homosexuality as a fulfilling relationship between two humans, just as heterosexuality is always assumed to be. You're also a liberal commie like me who wants everyone to be treated the same. But I digress.

Anyway, here's where I introduce the love element. Though I have not experienced romantic love with a male, I know I will. With a female? I have not, nor do I think I will ever.

As I've said before, many people ask when they hear the Jean story if she was in love with me. After we stopped speaking I found out through a friend that she, for whatever reason, admitted to having sex dreams about me. It struck me as rather funny that even though I loved her as my best friend and was forever hanging on her like a monkey, the thought of sex with her never crossed my mind. Maybe she treated me like shit because she was walking around with a perpetual case of blue balls. Ha!

A very close friend of mine who helped me deal with rebuilding myself after Jean, came out to me around the same time. I provided support for her as well and we created a pretty deep bond. Being of a more introverted type, it was only a matter of time before I started to feel a little suffocated by all her praise and support and needed time to myself. Then one day we had the conversation in which she beat around the bush for a while before saying, 'don't make me say it'. She was in love with me. I wanted to so badly to return the type of love she wanted but couldn't. She meant everything to me and I loved her as a friend, but faced with the prospect of sex with her? I knew right then that I could never with her or any other female. It made me incredibly sad and I pulled as far away from her as possible. Famous for shutting down others out, I was true to my reputation.

A year later we were able to re-establish a friendship because the bond we created was so strong. She told me that she mistook what she felt for me as love but was really more of a doctor patient thing where her devotion was due to the fact that I was the first person who had ever fully accepted her as she was. All this was realized after she met her first real love that is. I realized it after we stopped communicating and had had a chance to analyze our friendship.

And so there it is.

What people who know me know- I listen to a lot of female singer songwriters who happen to be lesbians. I am a feminist. I wear big black boots 9 months out of the year. I am mysterious about my sex life.

What anyone who reads this knows- I have the occasional fantasy about women. I am a virgin. I harp on old shit. And what I really want (when not wanting to be left alone) is a man to be part of an equal loving relationship with me...and of course sex me up until my eyeballs roll back.

Perhaps I'm sending mixed messages?

50 Things You Didn't Ask To Know

I find these lists captivating on some blogs so I thought I'd post my own. Plus, I know at least one of you is curious to know more about this virgin. Humor me. 

1. I always have to have dessert. One cookie counts. 

2. I am younger than I look. 

3. I feel older than I am. 

4. I wore braces for 10 months, a retainer for 5 years and my teeth are still crooked. 

5. Though I have been told I have a great smile. 

6. I can't hear anything in a noisy place, but if it's quiet I can hear a pin drop.

7. I was somewhat popular in high school but I still hated it. 

8. The only other thing I regret about college, aside from not having any sexual experiences, is not partying more. 

9. I get nauseous a lot but I've only thrown up three times in my life. 

10. Only one of those times was from drinking. 

11. I have a different allergic reaction to different alcohol. 

12. Not one person I know knows about this blog. 

13. If they should accidentally come across it somehow and read some of my earlier entries they'd totally know it was me. Depending on who it was, I'd either feel incredibly awkward or incredibly curious as to if their opinion of me changed. 

14. I've backpacked through a lot of Western Europe on my own. 

15. Light sleeper is putting it mildly. Ear plugs are my best friends. 

16. Without music I'd shrivel up and die. 

17. I often cry at movies, but will bottle my emotions until the day I explode. 

18. I am very close to my parents though they now live hundreds of miles away. 

19. My anger is a three stop process. 1-quiet low voice 2-loud ranting vulgarity as long as person who has caused my anger is not present 3- laughter at how ridiculous all of it is. 

20. I quit a summer internship while in college because after only one day of organizing their CDs because that's all they had for me to do, I knew I'd be unfathomably bored. 

21. I can wiggle my ears. 

22. I am still computer illiterate when it comes to certain things and didn't realize until last week that my settings didn't allow anonymous comments. 

23. I'd love to be fluent in another language. Two or three even. 

24. I say I'm 5'7" but I'm really 5'6 and three quarters" 

25. #16 is a lie. Without my sense of humor I'd shrivel up and die. Without music I just couldn't function properly. 

26. I used to want to be an actress when I was young. (surprise!) 

27. Now I realize I am an actress sometimes, just not in the way I wanted to be. 

28. One of the top things on my list to do before I kick it is to get my short stories published. 

29. Bread is a staple. Red meat is not. 

30. I think about moving to the west coast or europe all the time. At the moment, I lack the cojones to do it. 

31. I'd rather sleep with a fan on than the AC (granted it's not sub sahara Africa.) 

32. I don't voice my political opinions unless others in the room feel the same way. I do not like to debate politics, mostly because people always end up shouting and insulting one another.

33. That said, I believe G.W. is a puppet and actually consumes oil in order to live. 

34. I usually like tall, lanky dark haired guys, but the occasional tall, lanky blonde makes an appearance. 

35. I'll probably end up with a short, pudgy red head (not that there's anything wrong with that...) 

36. Accents have a profound affect on me. If you are a tall, lanky brunette with an accent I will probably have a crush on you. 

37. TV is an addiction I am able to quit in the summer. 

38. I love a good long rainy day. 

39. My dream job would be to travel the world and get paid to write witty stories about my adventures. 

40. My second dream job = rock star on the lesser side of fame. 

41. I would love to knock a few people upside the head. 

42. I hope to meet a man endeared by my fears rather than irritated (as I am) by them. 

43. I wish I had a cat. 

44. I wish my ex-landlord would stop being a dick and give me back my deposit. 

45. I've never broken a bone. 

46. I've donated a total of 24 inches of hair to a place that makes wigs for children who have lost it to cancer and other disease. 

47. I find the societal expectations of a 28 year old American female to be absurd and yet often find myself pining over not meeting them. It's pretty infuriating.

48. I don't have any desire to live to be 100. 

49. I will run from a fight or any inkling of love every time. 

50. I may be a virgin, but I totally have a place reserved in hell.

To Just Know

In no way am I comparing myself to a woman who has was unjustly incarcerated for 20 years, but this feeling...this is what I want.

"He took my hand in his quite naturally. At once he realized...that I was just a frightened child dressed up as a woman.
I couldn't keep my mind from racing, wondering where all this would lead me. An irrepressible little voice whispered to me not to ask too many questions. He was handsome, young and full of life. Besides, he was so gentle, so normal, that suddenly I no longer felt afraid. With him, I have never been frightened...This was the first time that a man had made me feel...so safe."
-Malika Oufkir, Stolen Lives

I realize it is still idealistic to hope for a man to make me feel that way with just his presence and not his attempt to make it so, but I can't help it. My inner pessimist says I live in a fantasy word. My inner optimist...well it has obviously happened to her, a woman with all the odds against her, so maybe my day will come.

The Dark Side

My father has officially crossed over. He has said a total of four things to me about men during my entire lifetime, the first occurring after I graduated college. The last, about 2 days ago. (I suppose I should mention that he is not American. That should account for something if you must judge him by the following statments.)

1999 "You need to meet men. Go out to some bars!"

1999 (same conversation) "What about online or something?"

2006 "You should sign up for one of those dating sites. You should! You can meet men that way!"

2006 (same conversation) "You have to start having babies. Mom wants grandchildren. We both do so we can spoil them." (My brother's kids apparently don't count. Now there's a story for another day.)

At dad's request, any takers?? Or have I proven myself too much of an emotional idiot?

Saved

I just realized...if I ever find myself in a terrifying, horror movie type situation, I will totally survive. Only the slutty girls die! Woohoo!