The 'ship difference

"Relationships are friendships on fire."

That was after quite a few times in recent weeks I've found myself in a conversation with someone or other about friendships and relationships; the differences, the similarities. And per usual, my views on the subject are probably in the minority. Which, is completely ok by me. But I'll share them anyway.

Relationships and friendships are essentially the same beast, with one difference: sex.

Both require intimacy, trust, honesty, and integrity. Either a relationship or friendship that is missing any of the aforementioned isn't worth the time. Relationships are friendships with the sex. Friendships are relationships without the sex.

Now, one very noteworthy exception to this is that sometimes friendships with the sex are simply friendships with the sex. Any level of friendship can include sex without being comprimised if handled with finesse and care. But, be warned, the more intimate the friendship with the sex, the harder the finesse and care come.

Both are important to me. Relationships, friendships. It's all the same. I'm ecstatic that my life is full of all levels of these monsters that control even the silliest of our emotions. I hope to keep adding on until I'm all out of emotions, then perhaps I'll start all over.

Just kidding. Or am I?

Good in Bed

So, tonight as I was browsing through some Zodiac graphics, I noticed that absolutely all of them said something to the effect of being good in bed.

"Good in bed"
"Great in bed"
"Freak in bed"

I got to wondering, can every single person actually be good in bed? I mean, I've personally had some experiences that weren't so good so there's the answer to that question. Everyone isn't good in bed. So how, then, does one determine if they are among that elite? Just because you absolutely rock the world of one person certainly doesn't make you great at the sex.

But I can't really think of anyone who doesn't think they aren't absolutely the shit in bed. I have not ever heard one person say, "I'm a terrible lay, you should just move on now." Although, that might be incredibly entertaining to hear.

I was just amused, which doesn't take much, and thought I'd share.

Thoughts anyone?

Wait, what now??

So I was reading a book yesterday, basically because I was desperate for something to read and it was all I had that hadn't been read. It was an alright book, but I am also a very picky reader. Anyway, I'm not here to tell you about the book per se, rather something in the book that sparked a thought.

The plot centered around a "fat" woman who was turning her life around. This, of course, included getting thin and fit. Now, while I will hand it to the author for capturing many of the emotions of being overweight, I am almost tempted to write her and let her know what a healthy body image is. The poor lady in the book started at a size 16, which by the standards indicated was FAT, FAT, FAT. She also counted her fat rolls, which I found quite amusing, going down the backside of her body - which totaled 9 when she began her life transformation.

Now first of all, is a size 16 seriously FAT, FAT, FAT???? If it is, good goddess I am afraid to think of what I am! Hello people???!!!!! The average size of women in America is a size 14. And most of those women don't look fat, fat, fat at all. Now I know we have a weight problem in America. A fitness crisis, if you will. I understand that most people have no concept on nutrition and big bads like heart disease and Type II diabetes are occuring in staggering numbers. I know that is an issue. All I am saying is, do we have to degrade each other by saying, look at your body and see how ugly it is? Second of all, I've seen LOTS of bodies. And I have never seen 9 fat rolls going down a backside, especially not on a size 16 frame! Or even a size 18, 20, etc. frame for that matter!

I have always thought curves were much sexier than no curves. I personally think the most beautiful part of a woman's body is probably the part most hate - the curve of the hip where it rises from the stomach above into the thigh below. I wish we could learn to appreciate these beautiful bodies we have, including the imperfections. Why aren't we motivated to change our bodies for health reasons, not for appearance? I'd love to see women (and men) out there working to get healthy, not working to keep up with the thin people in the world.

I'll tell you a secret about thin people, they have insecurities too. And many of them have an even worse distorted body image than overweight people do.

And we want to be thin so bad, we throw away the healthy to get there. We don't eat, we skip meals, we make ourselves miserable all for the sake of achieving the perfect size. And if we'd just strive for health we'd feel better, look better, and live better.

It just makes me sad that so many beautiful people out there feel so flawed. And their feelings are only perpetuated by the airbrushed models and attitudes like in the book I just got done reading.

The best thing I learned about orgasms today

So I was reading this book called The Birth House (for all you birth junkies out there it's great, go read). And it was talking about a diagnosis doctors used to give women, hysteria. Basically, the good old docs said that when a woman took too much on herself she would develop hysteria. This could only be cured by the laborsome chore of massaging the poor woman's genitals (called "pelvic massage") into "hysterical paroxysm." AKA mind-blowing orgasm.

This was a horrible chore for a doctor to have to endure. His hand would often ache and become tired or cramped. Of course, this treatment was only recommended to single women, spinsters, or widows. Married women were just told to go home and bang their husbands.

Because of the widespread nature of this affliction, the first vibrator was marketed. Doctors were, of course, overjoyed to be rid of the cursed hour of cramped hands that ended in afterglow. This little wonder called the vibrator took that job down to ten minutes! And the good doctors were able to write their charts afterward, on account of the no hand crampies and all.

Poor women. Thank heavens the good doctors were there to deliver them from hysteria.

You silly lesbians

So I just got through reading a story covering Bill O'Reilly's piece on "pistol-packing lesbians".

Let me give you the highlights:

Pink pistols
Gays Taking Over (GTO)
Dykes Taking Over (DTO) - coincidentally my favorite
Young girls being assaulted and "recruited" in to the gay lifestyle
Straight men being randomly attacked

And apparently, this a NATIONWIDE epidemic. RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!!

This reminds me so much of that game we all played as kids. Rumor. Where you sit in a circle and whisper something to the person next to you, they whisper it to the person next to them, so on and so on then the last person says it outloud and it is completely different than how it began. The whole thing just seems like a sad cross between Thelma & Louise and some lesbian movie and I'm sure exists.

And really? Who honestly believes there are huge groups of dykes going around attacking young girls and STRAIGHT men. I mean really.

As silly as the story is, I have to say this one line made the entire thing worth reading.

And these are lesbians that actually carry pistols.

Gasp! There are actually lesbians who carry pistols?! I mean because they would never have a need for personal protection. What will they do next? Silly lesbians with their pink pistol hijinks.

I'm in complete awe that this man still has viewers.

A blog about pride

It's funny to me how torn I am writing this blog again this year. There are a multitude of reasons, but mainly it is because I want to make sure I can convey my feelings well. This topic is very important to me, it's close to home. Most importantly, I want to make sure that anyone in the gay community who happens to read will feel a sense of....yep that's right, PRIDE.

Last year I wrote a pride blog on a challenge given in a LGBT blog group for, well, obviously folks of the gay persuasion; as well as friends, family, and just plain ole' supporters of gays. It was a great blogging group, but it went away. Still, I figured I should challenge myself again this year. So, let's do this, shall we?

Last year I said, I can only say what pride means to me. And really, that is all I can do. But as I grow and change, I think I gain more understanding. Or, at least I hope I do. So, maybe my perception has changed some.

I suppose I could tell you that pride is all about equal rights. Equality the queer community so deserves to have. It is hard for me to understand why we in this country, the land of the free after all, have to fight so hard for basic human rights. The black community did it, women did it, and now the gay community is doing it. I have no doubt that their battle will be won, that's what happens here. Get enough people to care and you can do anything. But that's not what pride is about, not really.

I could tell you pride is about tolerance. But tolerance is such a patronizing word. We say it all the time, we preach it over the "intolerant." Tolerance means nothing more than, "I don't like you but since we have to share the same air space I'll do my best not to kill you." It is demeaning and rude to tolerate someone. So, that is not what pride is about at all.

Here is what pride means to me: acceptance. Acceptance of who you are. Acceptance of freedom and love and equality in all things. Acceptance of people to not fit into little boxes that we can neatly categorize and shelve. Acceptance of the amazing resiliance and strength of the human race. Acceptance of your fear of change and rejection and difference. Acceptance.

I hope we get it one day. I hope we really can look all human beings in the eye and love them, and mean it. I hope we can take joy in our differences. I hope we can all take up the sprit of pride. My challenge to all of us is to do just that. Take on the spirit of pride. Be proud of who you are; be proud of the amazing, radical people who create change generation after generation; be proud of the freedom we have and work to change the freedoms we don't. Take pride in the gay community, celebrate this time with them. If you are a part of that community, hold your head up high. Honor the memory that this week, this month has come to represent.

A tag blog

Alright, guys, it's ten weird things.

1 - I can't stand to hear anyone eat. If I'm close enough I'll normally move away or try to make conversation.

2 - I'm a bitch but most people don't see it. Ask anyone, usually you'll get a description somewhere along the lines of sweet, nice, etc.

3 - I'm double jointed in both of my middle fingers and a couple of toes. Also, I can stretch my pinky toe unnaturally far away from the other toes.

4 - I'm weird about spelling and grammar. Trust me, if you use bad grammar I will laugh at you. Maybe not to your face, but still.

5 - As a kid I absolutely could not sleep with any body part uncovered except my face for fear that the indian under my bed would chop the uncovered part off.

6 - Still on sleeping, I have to have the sheet tucked in the bottom of the bed a certain way and the top of the sheet folded neatly over the covers to even think about falling asleep.

7 - I used to be painfully shy until I figured out there was no point in caring what other people thought of me. Now, I still like to observe people before jumping in but that's not out of shyness.

8 - As much as I love to write, I think most of it is crap. And yet I continue on anyway. :)

9 - I'm scared of the dark in a serious way.

10 - My favorite smells are fresh mowed grass, the smell of rain right before and after it starts falling, and gasoline. I freaking love the smell of gasoline.

And so, according to the rules of tag-dom I'm now supposed to go on and tag like 15 people or something. Just kidding, I think it's five. But, here's what I'm gonna do. I'm ending it. That's right people, the tag stops here. If you feel compelled to tell me about your weirdness, go right ahead. What can I say? I'm a rebel.