Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Monday, September 19, 2011

The repeal of DADT by the numbers.

I know its small but just give it a click to enlarge it.

I have to say that seeing it laid out like this makes me very proud of my country.  Very proud indeed.

Of course not EVERYBODY shares my pride.

Courtesy of Pink News:

A Catholic woman from Massachusetts says she is so disgusted by gay people that she fears leaving her house.

You know the TRULY sad thing is that this woman, Stacy Trasancos, has quite a lot in common with gay Americans. You see it is fear of running into homophobic people like her that makes many of our homosexual brothers and sisters too afraid to leave the closet.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Love 101 for PUA Men

  1. Find someone who can cook and clean.
  2. Someone who's funny & honest.
  3. Someone who finds you attractive & smart.
  4. Make sure the 3 never meet

Friday, September 9, 2011

The Best 'No' That Was Ever Said

beach girl enjoying day in sun
I was going to title this post as "Some More Thoughts on Celibacy" but then by some delicious serendipity my friend and lovely writer Maura Hernandez wrote this on Twitter: "Saying 'no' feels good. You should try it."

This hit me at the core, because it was exactly the phrase I was looking for in the wordsmith mill. You see, last night, after dinner with friends in Fort Lauderdale, I walked around in a club on Las Olas, looking for a few strays who had left the table for some diversion while a few of us finished our cocktails.

The place was hazy, shadows and lights in stark contrast, bouncing off the walls like the music -- scantily clad club goer bodies everywhere and I couldn't find my friends.

I'm not surprised they didn't stay.

There were an unusual amount of women who looked like Russian whores and lots of young Guido types. The bouncer, who was a Caucasian refrigerator about ten feet tall, wasn't carding people. But his mountainous stature was all for naught -- I suspect the biggest threat to the place was a Boca bitch wearing steel sharp stilettos, lording it over with her cheap hundred dollar hair extensions. The spot wasn't particularly appealing to me. It reeked of fake. It portended sex for money, not love.

And then it happened. The ex-boyfriend just swooped into my line of sight, life flashing before me in a 30 second B movie that I hate to replay.

I saw him mingling with some "kids" in the corner.

How is it possible to feel compassion and repulsion at the same time?

Honestly, nearly a year and half later, that's what I felt.

And I was a bit surprised ... I hadn't thought about him at all in months.

All this bolstered my now conscious decision to be celibate in a sex-crazed world, a world that defines relationship that way.

Because along the path of celibacy, I have also developed some of the best relationships I've ever had, some that have made my life more meaningful and given me great purpose -- something I could never achieve with the ex and much less so wearing the mask of cheap romance.

But more about the evening.

It probably wasn't a coincidence that some of my dining companions were a lovely couple that had found love under some rather challenging circumstances. One of party is going through a divorce and the other was encouraging the partner to feel compassion for the soon-to-be ex-spouse.

People come into our lives for a reason. Perhaps if my ex had not come into my life, I wouldn't have had the trial experience and I wouldn't be where I am today, feeling very complete on my own and very anchored in this drifting process of living. Because we are all drifting towards death and it is all a process, whether we want to acknowledge it or not. I know it sounds morbid, but if you don't appreciate every breath you take, warts and all, you aren't really living.

Why do I tag this blog as a "guide to chronic living"? Because we can't help it. Life is a gift.

And my friend Maura is right. Every 'no' is a great thing, because it opens opportunities not only in our own lives but to someone else and elsewhere. Every time I say 'no' someone else gets a 'yes' ... it is all a give and take in this interconnected web, an interchange and market of the same energy.

You cannot possibly feel alone when you feel connected this way.

This is why, even though it sucked to see my ex and I thanked God he didn't acknowledge or recognize me (I've lost weight and after all, it was a crowded lounge), I can still project love to him.

I still wonder, however, how I could have ever spread my legs for that man, and I know every woman can relate to that.

And regardless, we were not the right match.

When I was younger, I thought that people gave me funny looks for being single and childless. Now, I think the "funny look" might have been a glance of envy for the power and freedom I enjoy because I'm single and childless.

There is nothing wrong with love and having a family, but there is also nothing wrong with honoring a path of devotion to others that are not your biological family. That is really what celibacy is all about. Actually, being celibate is all about love. Real love, agape love -- devotion to the world -- not just one individual.

When I hear my single friends whine about men and loneliness, I wish I could reach into their hearts and show them that there's so much more to life than sex and romance. There's nothing wrong with sex and romance, but the heart needs to aspire to more eventually. We are bigger and better than that.

Sex and romance can be true detractors from our real purpose.

So far, I've told you there's nothing wrong with a bunch of contradictory things and now I'm going to mix it up and tell you that I have no clue what the right thing is for you or anyone, but I do know this: no lover will ever take away my purpose in life. He'll contribute to it. And I won't settle for less. Love is enormous and his heart better be even bigger. We will swell and sway together.

In the meantime, I'm happy to be in this path.

Those two little words 'no' and 'yes' can define us in so many ways. They help set boundaries. You can still be loving and refuse with a 'no' when it's the right thing to do. And you can take huge leaps of faith when you say 'yes' for the right reasons as well.

If my ex hadn't said 'no' to me, I would've been in a place that I would have never wanted to be. He did me a huge fucking favor. I am grateful to him for that even if it makes no sense or it rhymes with reason in a twisted way.

Think about that simple word 'no' ... it could be your most fortunate destiny.

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Bristol Palin puts her son Tripp to work helping to pay the bills. Yeah, why should he not have to pull his own weight?

These were apparently scenes filmed for Bristol's reality series.

 You know I would never suggest that I am an expert on raising children (pretty close though), but don't you think that once a child is old enough to push his own stroller that he no longer needs one?

Tripp is only about four months shy of his third birthday, and he appears rather large for his age, I really think he would benefit from being treated like a young boy, and NOT a baby. And what the hell is with the pacifier?

Besides it does not appear that he is too happy with the whole stroller situation.

That is clearly the face of a very angry young man.

And perhaps part of that reason is because he might be missing somebody...

..who is also REALLY missing him.

(BTW you can count Sadie as somebody who believes that the anonymous poster on the Nick Broomfield post is on the up and up. It was this comment here that convinced her: "Bristol talks about Sadie 24/7. Like...Constantly. It's the worst case of projection I have ever seen. She is so jealous of Sadie, she has taught Tripp to go "ewwww" and wrinkle his nose if Bristol shows him a photo of Sadie."   She said she had been told that before by people who have seen her do it. And people say Mercede is that vindictive one.)

Friday, August 26, 2011

The Friday Sex Blog [Love and Hate]

¡Hola! Everybody…

Hurricane watch! I had an unexpected request and I also might have to leave the city, otherwise, I would’ve worked really hard to have her here with me to ride out the hurricane and make the room smell like sex and Chinese takeout). LOL!

BTW? I wouldn’t fuck Condoleezza Rice with your dick and Cheney’s ass pushing it… just sayin’… AFAIC, aside from being a fuckin come mierda (shit eater) sell-out, she looks like a donkey's anus with teeth. And if that observation makes me some kind of woman-hating bigot ::shrug::

S-E-X!

The following photo is of a aesthetically pleasing abnormally beautiful, Latina. fuck it.

* * *

-=[ Love and Hate ]=-

People like to talk about “their haters” all the time. Some even use the evidence of a large following of haters as proof of their superiority! Lots of haters?!! Then you must be the bomb! In this sense, the standard meaning of hate is changed in order to mean envy. When people talk about “haters” they’re really referring to envious people. And again, people often point to a lot of perceived enviousness in their lives as something of a badge of honor. On the other hand, it might be that you’re delusional and are an asshole.

Hate in its standard usage, however, is a powerful, often destructive energy. The word hate comes from the Old English and its definition is rooted in sadness, anger, pain. But as with everything else in life, you can harness the power of hate for a good purpose. Warning: the following isn’t from a Christian/ Judeo framework, so beware ::grin::

Hate everyone you see today. Actually, this shouldn’t be hard because you probably do this to a certain extent already. Hate strangers, family, and friends. What I mean is look at each person and generate feelings of hate.

Don’t slack. If you aren’t hating, then work at it. Hate the woman who cut you off in the car ahead of you. Hate the man you last spoke with on the cell. Hate the very next person you see -- intensely.

As you’re doing all this hating, imagine yourself dying, right now, this very moment, while hating. Hate, and feel as if you’re dying. Would you rather die a different way than hating?

How would you prefer to die, if you had the choice (you do)?

Don’t think, but experience your answer to this question. Offer the spirit in which you wish to die -- from this moment on.

If you notice yourself slacking off, then practice hating once again -- practice hating every person you meet or see. Really hate him or her, hating as hard as you can, and then feel (not think!) if this is how you want to die, shackled in hate.

You can use this to blossom open to be lived by the force of love. If this feels difficult or scary, then hate for just a moment in order to help you commit to how loving you want to be when you die, which, contrary to the propaganda, could be right now.

Love,

Eddie

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Let's start the day with a smile shall we?


Just for contrast.

Rick Perry with his "baby."
I know it may seem trivial, but something about watching Obama interact with the little ones gives me a comfortable feeling about putting my trust in him.

Considering the number of videos and pictures all of you have sent me, I must assume it does the same for many of you.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

"And a little child will lead them."


As a man who digs babies, a political observer, and simply a human being, this comparison speaks volumes to me.

(H/T to O'Toolefan, perhaps the MOST prolific tweeter on the internets.)

Friday, August 5, 2011

The Friday Sex Blog [Love]

¡Hola! Everybody…
These are the dog days of summer, lover, and you’re recklessly embroiled in a summer fling, drinking of that siren’s song of forgetfulness and autumn, with its demands for change, such a long way off…

* * *

-=[ Love ]=-

Your sleep:/ I have watched you wake/ a spectacle,/ an immediate vision of honesty./ ... And you reach out for me/ silently, without a plan/ and it is enough.


This is a test of the Ame-Rican Blogging System (ABS). This is only a test...

Can you love through the ever increasing ups and downs, heavens and hells, of life?

Can you love in all directions, inwardly and outwardly?

Even during those all-too-frequent mood swings of disgust and pain and shame and negative thought constellations spiraling into that tight knot of loneliness and despairing torment, can you love?

If you find cannot love, nothing changes.

On the flip side, if you can love, nothing changes…

Except that you love.

Nothing and nobody will ever give you anything except an opportunistic risk to love…

Now, this very moment, in this very life.

This has been a test of the Ame-Rican Blogging System. If this had been an actual emergency, someone would’ve awakened you from your life-long slumber (or perhaps not).

Love,

Eddie

Monday, July 25, 2011

Let's step away from the negative and talk about something positive. Like gay marriage in New York!

Just look at this picture.



Seen here are Phyllis Siegel (left) and Connie Kopelov (right) of New York City, the first same-sex couple to get married at the Manhattan City Clerk's office.

Is that not just the sweetest thing you have seen in very a long time?


I cannot imagine ANYBODY telling these wonderful ladies that they could not express their love for each other by legally committing their lives to one another. It just seems cruel upon reflection doesn't it?

This has started my daughter talking about wanting to get married as well, which I am VERY excited about! I have actually given away a lot of brides, but I had given up hope that I would someday do the same for my daughter.

Just another reminder to NEVER give up hope.

You can see more wonderful pictures over at Gawker.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Kink but not the fun, sexy kind.

First kink in my summer fun-on.  The guy who I thought would throw a lot of business my way wants to hire me full time.  The salary is $25,000 less per year than I was making not including the perks I'd lose like writing off my car expenses.  He wants me bad enough not to be real keen on giving my business a boost by sending work my way, he didn't say that of course, I know it intuitively.   I'm flattered that he believes in my work enough to hire me, but I am very disappointed in both the salary offer and the fact he won't be sending work my way.  It's the first real time since I've started this venture I feel gloomy.

My old boss did offer me work but only if I agreed to give him 25% of all my own work.  He felt that because he was giving me a job I owed him a piece of my company.  I said no in the nicest way possible and said I'd be happy to contract with him and he turned me down.  This means no money coming in for my business at all.  Not how I pictured it was going to happen.

I have a great deal of faith in myself, I know I'd do a killer job and I'd save my clients money, but getting the client base is harder than I anticipated, especially with the monkey wrench of a job offer in the way.  Argggghhhh..

It's raining outside which suits my mood.

On the plus side I heard from my wonderful man today, he told me that I'm his sun.  I think that's one of the loveliest things that's ever been said to me.  Life's not bad after all.

The Friday Sex Blog [Oral Consciousness]

¡Hola! Everybody…
We’re in the midst of a heat wave here in The Center of the Known Universe. I believe today we’ll hit the 100 degree mark. I love heat waves, mostly because it literally takes people out of their comfort zones. Their routines and behavior get out of kilter and they act less conventionally, if irritable. Clothing is discarded, tempers flare, passions are ignited. While people are going through this, all they do is complain about the heat. Of course, these are the same who complain about the cold. Wouldn’t it be wiser to spend your limited and finitie life force on something more useful? I’m just saying…

* * *

-=[Oral Consciousness]=-

We came too close again and
your tongue reached for me
and drew me into your mouth
as if I were a careless fly
doomed to the ecstasy of death
in the perfumed corridors
of your sweet,
wet throat.

Ever notice how everything feels enlarged in your mouth? ::snicker:: A small cut or sore or a tiny grain of rice can seem huge. Observe that your lips and tongue are exquisitely sensitive to giving and receiving pleasure, tasting both the delicious and the bitter. Imagine, if you can, your whole body as sensitive as your tongue. Pretend that your whole body has that level of tongue-like sensitivity. Imagine French-kissing the computer screen or tasting the inside of your pants.

Maybe it’s fortunate that your whole body isn’t like this. As it is, your potential for taste is sheltered from unwanted or a bombardment of flavors. Your tongue is sheltered by your mouth, safely ensconced behind the safety of teeth and jaws.

A plant has no tongue and will never taste the salty sheen of a sweaty and trembling lover. Yet a flower dances and lifts its petals, dancing in the sunshine and the rain, rooting itself down in the moist, fertile earth without care of career or thoughts of death. A plant may have no tongue, but in its own way, it is singing its song of life from its roots to its petals: I am alive!

Try this… the next time you use your mouth sexually, be thankful that you can. Allow the experience of oral sex to expand and fill up your awareness. Explore the full landscape of oral sensations, the tastes and textures you lick, nibble, tease, and suck. Become totally immersed in oral sex, as only a human can.

Before this birth and most likely after death, you will have no tongue. I mean, who knows? But right now in this human incarnation, what is the most creative way to give joy with your mouth? How can you offer your soft tongue and skilled lips as a gift for the sake of others -- of another?

You can certainly pleasure your lover by stimulating their neck, earlobes, nipples, thighs, or genitals with your tongue and lips. But can you push the envelope and offer your mouth for this purpose: to enable your lover to surrender as unrestricted love for the sake of all beings?

This is the true purpose of sex. Oral sex is unique, because our mouths are so sensitive. Do you realize that more of your brain’s proportionate capacity is dedicated to your tongue and lips than to any other body part? This is obvious if you consider that a drop of salty sweat causes a different reaction if dripped on your back than on your tongue. This is even truer of a genital’s texture and taste between your lips. Your mouth knows most intimately of what it comes into contact with.

Try tiny little licks or nibbles, movements smaller than a grain of sand. Allow your lover to feel just how sensitive your mouth is by the groans and grunts and oohs and ahs that escape you as your tongue and lips explore and discover the flavors and extreme textures of curve and ruffle that no plant will ever feel. Let your neighbor in the next apartment wonder why you are moaning so.

Transform your tasted flavors into sounds, empowering your lover to feel your engorged responsiveness, connecting your hearts, amplifying the crackling energy of love to flow more freely between your two bodies. This is the heart of the matter: to translate your mouth’s extreme sensitivity into the service of the magnification of love. Oral sex -- the lapping/ licking of love -- erases the illusory boundaries between selves. Orally amplified love lingers long after your tonguing has ceased and your sucking has stopped.

This afterglow of love anyone can feel; so can a plant, believe it or not, and certainly your children and your friends can feel your open and vulnerable heart all day. Your liberated love is a blessing in their lives.

Amplified love offered as a gift to others is what your tongue can sexually uncover. And why not? Anything less would be a misuse of this human carnal form we all wear. Plants have their own blessing -- their own sun dance. Anything less would be a misuse of this carnally human form we all wear. Plants have their own blessing -- their sun dance. Offer your most sensitive human part as a gift of tender love amplified as a blessing to all. Stretch your limits and feel your natural radiance.

Love,

Eddie

Thursday, July 21, 2011

The Magic of Winnie the Pooh.

Before I begin this post I just want to mention that I used to be a power lifting and martial arts champion.

In other words I lifted really heavy things and punched people in the heads for trophies, and sometimes cash prizes.

Those are very, very manly things, I am sure you will agree.

Did you get that manly part?

Okay then, on to Winnie the Pooh.

In those emotionally overwhelming  moments when I first held my newborn daughter, I made a decision.

Well the first thing I thought was that somebody needed to take her and hose her off a little because she was covered in goo and it was making me gag a little, but the second thing that I thought was that I was going to make sure my daughter was exposed to the best things that life had to offer, which included reading to her from the classics of literature. (I actually wrote about that in an earlier post.)

So the very first book that I bought for us to read together was this one.


As you can no doubt tell from the tears in the cover and the weathered overall look, this book has been read, and reread, many, many times.

However I was in such a hurry to start reading the "classics" to my new born daughter that I literally purchased this book, which is NOT the watered down Disney version by the way, just days after her birth.

Though I was completely convinced that my daughter would have the IQ of a genius, it did occur to me that the current level of her comprehension might make this unsuitable for bedtime reading for at LEAST a few more weeks.

So to prepare her for the first step on her long literary adventure I bought this:
I know, isn't that adorable?

However in the baby instruction book that I bought, (because for some reason she did not come with one), it said that my daughter's eyes may not be able to focus on the mobile very well for the first few months, so I decided to buy one of these for her to sleep on:


And, of course, one of these:

Only the original Pooh bear would suffice for my daughter.

(You don't think I overdid it do you?)

So long story short, my daughter was raised around Winnie the Pooh, and Winnie the Pooh paraphernalia, and yes, she grew up LOVING the Winnie the Pooh stories. (So yes parents OCCASIONALLY the things you want your children to do they will actually do. Remember, I said occasionally!)

So let's fast forward about twenty three years into the future, to two days ago.

There I was surfing the net, looking for adventure movies full of action, and violence (and hopefully some tasteful nudity), to watch this upcoming weekend, when I happened to notice that this movie was also playing at the local theater.



Have you ever smelled a smell, or heard a sound, and suddenly found yourself transported to a different time and place? A distant, happy, nearly forgotten place which seems to envelope you in warm, soothing memories that quickly dissipate just as you find yourself reaching out to touch them?

Suddenly all thoughts of superheroes, giant transforming robots, and immature scatological comedies completely left my mind and all I wanted was to watch this movie.  This animated, G rated, Saturday matinee friendly movie.

Did I mention I used to be a bouncer at a strip club?  Well I was!

But you know I didn't REALLY want to see this move.........alone.

In fact there was only one way I would actually go through with it and humiliate myself by sitting in a sticky theater with a bunch of over caffeinated preschoolers. And let's face it there was NO WAY my too busy to even text her father back, adult daughter was going to want to watch this movie!

Right?

But I figured it wouldn't hurt to ask, so I did.

"So Honey, I happened to see that there was this new, probably completely screwed up, Winnie the Pooh movie out.  And I was wond..."

"Oh yeah, I was going to ask YOU if you wanted to go to that! I think it looks really good!  Do you remember all of that Winnie the Pooh stuff you bought me?  I kept it and still have all of it in storage! (You do?) So can we go tomorrow?"

"Sure.....I mean....if that is what YOU want? I guess I could find the time."

So it looked like we were going after all.

The only potential obstacle to our plan was that the movie started at 10:15 in the morning, which was the only time I could make it due to work commitments, and my daughter is NOT an early riser. (That kids, is what is known as a HUGE understatement!)

So the next day I decided to start waking my impossible to rouse daughter a whole hour before the movie was supposed to start. (Imagine ripping a giant tree trunk out of the ground, only then imagine that when you turn your back it replants itself and makes you start all over, and you will have SOME idea of what it is like to get my daughter out of bed before noon.)

However right when I had a couple of pots and pans to bang together in my hands, and was walking up to her bedroom door, I noticed that she was already in the bathroom getting ready. (Yeah I admit I had an "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" moment there.)

Before I knew it she was ready to go and we were on our way. On our way to see Winnie the Pooh.  The matinee showing.  My twenty four year old daughter and I. Why was I doing this again?

On the way we managed to catch up on all of the things that we are both too busy to discuss while living in the same house and sleeping only TWO DOORS AWAY FROM EACH OTHER! (Did I mention that she  texts me from inside her room when she wants to tell me something, rather than open the damn door and say "Hey Dad, I have something to tell you?" Well I am mentioning it now.)

When we got to the theater I told her she could get anything to eat she wanted, my treat.

So she did.

Thirty five dollars later (When did theaters start serving Filet Mignon?), we were ready to find our seats.

As anticipated the smallish theater was full of sticky little ankle biters that had apparently just broken out of the cotton candy factory, and were so hopped up on sugar I swear I saw their eyeballs vibrating.  But once the movie started they settled down to only intermittent screams of "Stop touching me!" and the occasional maniacal giggle.

The movie was okay, nothing special.  To be honest I liked the old Disney version a little better, but it was relatively entertaining. You know, for a cartoon.

But just as I was about to lean over and whisper my disappointment into my daughter's ear, I heard her laugh.

It swear it sounded different than her usual laugh, yet also...familiar.

So I glanced over.









It was just for a moment.  One bittersweet, precious, magical moment.

But it was enough.

Monday, July 11, 2011

I am off camping right now, but I thought I would share some pictures and memories with you this Monday morning.

I am away from my computer and can only hope that this posted correctly in my absence.

I do have my I-Phone with me so, if I am still getting service, I can moderate messages and retrieve a stubborn post that might get stuck in the weeds over at Blogger.

The other day my daughter brought me some pictures that I had not seen in years which she had squirreled away in various picture albums. While looking through them I was amazed at how quickly the memories came flowing back.


Not yet three months old but already occupying the center of an entire family's universe.


She knew she was not supposed to go up those stairs, hence that mischievous look.


I blame my daughter for interrupting my early writing career. It is kind of hard to write the next great American novel when SOMEBODY keeps fooling with the typewriter.


It did not make any difference where we were going, she was always excited about riding in the car. "Let's go to outer space Daddy!' "Your wish is my command" I would reply, and off we would go to whatever magical place our imaginations could take us.

We had nothing in those days.  I worked a low paying job, and was constantly struggling to make ends meet, but in my memory they were the very BEST of times.

Sometimes it was just she and I together, playing in the park, watching "Mary Poppins" for the hundredth time, playing dress up while drinking imaginary tea, or simply bike riding around Anchorage together looking for trouble. 

After her mother and I split up, I had a couple of short lived romantic flings. But the only relationship that I ever really put all of my energy into was the one with this gorgeous little girl.

I guess I always knew the others were going to be temporary, but that being Daddy was going to last forever.  And so it has.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

If babies had the right to vote, the winner of our next Presidential election would be a foregone conclusion.

After I posted the "Oh Baby" video and the post referring to President Obama as the "Baby Whisperer" I found myself inundated with pictures of our president with babies. Apparently there are dozens and dozens of them.

Now I tend to resist the urge to revisit a topic after I have posted about it once, but I have to admit that after looking through these pictures there appears to be something almost magical in how Barack Obama interacts with our youngest Americans.

Take a look for yourself, and tell me if you agree.









And it isn't just the babies who are charmed by our President. Their older brothers and sisters seem to gravitate toward him as well.





You know if I were on Obama's reelection committee, I would simply run an political ad of nothing but President Obama interacting with children. The man gives an amazing speech, but his effortless rapport with children is an open window to his soul.

Take it from a guy who has worked with kids his entire life, and also enjoys a certain amount of automatic trust from them, you can learn a great deal about a person's humanity by how they interact with children.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Barack Obama, the "baby whisperer," strikes again. Updated with a new picture.


It is part of every child's survival instinct to know who they can trust enough to let their guard down.

I wish EVERY American understood what this child naturally understands.

You can see more pictures of President Obama's visit to Iowa by visiting the Obama Diary.

Oh hell, let me leave you with just one more.


Something about the emotion on that woman's face touches me.

Update: Okay so since so many of you requested it, here is the picture of Sarah Palin demonstrating her child comforting abilities.


By the way, who in the hell autographs babies?

Friday, June 24, 2011

The New York State Senate JUST passed their same sex marriage bill!


Courtesy of Bay Windows:

The New York Senate voted to legalize same-sex marriage in the state Friday, June 24 with a vote of 33 to 29.

The measure needed just one more supporter in the Republican-controlled Senate. Governor Andrew Cuomo (D) called the body back into session after it expired Monday, June 20 to continue debating the issue. The governor expressed his support for legalized same-sex marriage, and spent the past few weeks personally lobbying senators on the matter.

The bill, which had been passed by the State Assembly, includes measures that would exempt religious groups who don’t support legalized marriage equality from having to officiate or otherwise participate in same-sex unions.

Now that is a pretty great way to wrtap up my blogging this Friday evening!

Friday, May 13, 2011

The Friday Sex Blog [Love Lessons]

¡Hola! Everybody…
Life is about to get "interesting" for this blogger... the waves? The surf is up and the it's getting rough. Wish me luck.

* * *

Love Lessons

“The night has a thousand eyes,
And the day but one;
Yet the light of the bright world dies
With the dying sun.

The mind has a thousand eyes,
And the heart but one;
Yet the light of a whole life dies
When love is done.”

Just to set the record straight I am 55 years-old and for most of my adult life, I have been a committed bachelor. I have had countless relationships, many casual, a few serious, but for most of my life, I have been single by choice. I have no regrets. I like it that I’ve been single for that long and consistently. With the exception of one woman, I have never married, though I’ve lived with women over the years. I am not looking for a long-term relationship – nor have I ever.

Does the above sound like a hopeless romantic?

Exactly!

I am as far removed from the archetype of the hopeless romantic as you can get. Women -- women looking for serious relationships -- stay away from me. LOL

Yet the fact remains that you will be hard-pressed to find a more romantic person than yours truly. If you’re the object of my passion, you will feel as if you’re the only woman in the world. I will write poems in your honor, make exquisitely and excruciating slow love to you, perform solitary parades to celebrate your returns, mourn your departures. You will remember our first kiss because the attention to detail devoted to that most anticipated of moments will make you wet with appreciation.

I am not a “good guy.” I’m the man your mother warned you about. You may hate me when it’s all done, but you will remember me.

I have broken countless hearts and have had mine shattered into a million pieces so many times, I no longer even bother trying to put all the jagged shards together. It’s there, this heart of mine – cracked open.

Welcome.

I share all this in the interest of transparency because the one thing I bring to the table is my honesty -- my earnest desire to be as real as I can be. Later you may scandalize me, but you will never be able to say I wasn’t true.

My first kiss was with a girl named Emily. I was twelve years-old and I can remember that dark winter night and the song was playing over her transistor radio (Mellow Yellow). I remember I closed my eyes (I always close my eyes) and I remember we kissed on a dare. We both liked each other, but I was too shy to do anything about it until one of my cousins dared us and we kissed. It was a delicious kiss. My heart thumped. After that first kiss, we would meet every night in that tenement hallway and kiss. One day she let me kiss her nubby breasts, which I kissed tenderly, and another night I ventured and felt the moist wetness between her legs. She moaned…

We almost broke up because my cousin, who was jealous, insisted that a blister on Emily’s lip was some kind of sexual disease (it was a fever blister). Eventually, her mother caught us kissing (on the rooftop), we weren’t allowed to see each other, and when the summer recess came, they moved far away. That was my first heartbreak (and hers).

I was very much a nerd in those days, extremely shy around the opposite sex. Not long after Emily, my first lover, the raven-haired beauty, Victoria ("don't call me Vickie"), our 16-year-old babysitter, came to me in the middle of the night and thrust her hairy pussy onto my face. I remember the pungency of her sex and feeling somewhat confused, until I flicked at her with my tongue and she groaned. We would make love like that for months, until my mother came home early one night (she was working a night shift at a factory) and caught us in the clinch. Victoria wasn't allowed to babysit after that, but it didn't stop us. Many years later, I ran into Victoria and she confessed feeling guilty at having corrupting me, but I assured her that I felt gratitude for having been corrupted by the lovely Victoria. We laughed...

I would fall madly in love at 14 with a girl named Milva. Milva was intelligent, was a writer (or wanted to be one), and was one of the few people who could keep up with me intellectually. When we made love, it was like a poem the way it unfolded. We made love under the boardwalk at Brighton Beach's Pier 6. I loved Milva with all my heart and we were the most popular couple in our high school. Milva had jet-black hair, large and intelligent cherry-brown eyes and a petite but curvy body.

Dang! We were so hot for one another!

Milva left me one day for an “older guy” (someone in college) and that was a devastating loss. It would be a while before I could love again in that completely open and fearless way. Afraid of rejection, of being hurt, I turned to literature and began reading all the “Great Books” of the Western Canon. Having lost at love, I explored my intellectual side and I drank greedily from that cup.

I always moved between the landscapes of my heart and mind and, in many ways, I was in love with love. Towards the end of high school, Milva would return to me, but it was too late. Besides, by then I had Mona, a fierce Milva rival. Mona of the cinnamon colored skin, the insatiable need for sex. God! We spent a torrid summer years after high school in each others arms. She even threw out her husband. We made love everywhere and every which way. Mona was the first woman would gave me her ass willingly. Life was good.

Over the years I searched for the ideal way to love, sometimes through the eyes of that 12-year-old and occasionally with the wisdom of a maturing young man.

We all have a 12-year-old inside, that adolescent boy or girl in search of the perfect love. Our stories may be different, but we bring them into all the aspects of adult relating, influencing our styles of communication, our conceptions of intimacy, our degree of sexual openness, our values, our hopes, and our dreams. And because our stories are different, we sometimes collide, confronted with the inevitable conflicts of love. Until we make these internal stories conscious and become fully willing to explore them with our partners -- with understanding, patience, and compassion – we will never know true intimacy.

Without intimacy, life withers away. As all the great poets have noted, we need each other, deeply, in order to survive. When faced with love, we find ourselves reflected in the eyes of another and, if we’re able, we can grow together through this stormy search for self. Through love, our souls can unfold – like a rare and beautiful flower. We embrace, we discover each other, we grow, but still the mystery remains.

I have never found the perfect love of my idealistic adolescence, but I found something far more rewarding-- my true self. And the voices I’ve encountered along the way -- the books I’ve read, the women I have known, and the stories we’ve shared along the way – these are the seeds from which the man who stands before has grown.

Yo soy el hijo del cariño y tambien de la dulzura.

Friday, April 29, 2011

The Sexual Subversive [Abstinence]

¡Hola! Everybody...
First: This week at the online magazine, Subversify, I wade into the Birther Bullshit. What? It had to be done! LOL Click here to read/ leave a comment.

Today’s post was inspired in part by a Facebook contact’s question…

* * *

-=[ Requiem for a Serial fornicator ]=-

Until we lose ourselves there is no hope of finding of finding ourselves.
-- Arthur Miller


Today I want to explore what happens to the way we relate if we awaken even a little bit. This is the kicker, the fire with which we test ourselves. When one person meets another and the interplay of energy takes place, it pushes to the surface all the little places we pushed back from the light. Whether it’s a history of violence, emotional bulimia, habitual criticism, or the trauma that comes from repeatedly having our trust betrayed -- these become like little bubbles that rise to the top, that come to the surface. What happens in a relationship is that your beloved becomes a mirror of yourself.

For most of my adult life my relationships with women were a series of dysfunctional interactions that either left me bruised and bleeding, or caused others much pain. My relationship history resembled a series of horrific car crashes. My way of relating to women was screwed totally and so when I decided to make changes in my life, the first thing I did was call a moratorium on romantic relationships. I knew I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, so I wanted to stop, look, listen, and learn a new way.

At some deeper level I realized that there was something I was looking for, or better out, I had a sense of lack -- as if a piece of me were kissing. I felt that at the core of my being there was a broken window with a fierce wind blowing through -- a void, if you will. I experienced this void as a primal wound, a profound but delusional sense of loneliness.

I am not speaking of the regular, run-of-the-mill variety -- the kind of loneliness we all encounter at some point or another. There’s this kind of loneliness that no matter how firmly wrapped we are in our lover’s embrace still manages to slither in for a brief stay every once in while.

If I were to be honest, there’s not much to say about loneliness, for it’s not a broad subject. Shit, even a child, alone in her room, can travel the complete range of loneliness, from border to border, in less time than it will take you to read this.

But though it may not be broad, it is deep. Loneliness, dearest, is a river deeper than the ocean. But even here there’s no mystery. The same precocious child is liable to fall quickly to the very bottom without even trying. And since the depths of loneliness cannot sustain human life, the child will swim to the surface, perhaps none the worse for wear.

Some of us, however, insist on bringing breathing aids with us for longer stays: sex, more sex, imaginary friends, drugs and alcohol, soul-corroding relationships, mind-numbing entertainment, virtuality, inflexible routines, and pets (pets, in my opinion, are some of the best enablers of loneliness). With the help of these aids, a poor soul can survive the airless profundity of loneliness long enough to experience its worst horror -- its duration.

I wanted a way out, some measure of, if not happiness, at least some serenity. I went almost two and a half years without a relationship and was sexually abstinent during that time (yup). For clarity’s sake, I define sexual abstinence as refraining from having sex with another human being.

One of the first things I learned during this time was that I couldn’t love another until I could love myself. Not an earth-shattering insight, huh? I’m sure many will immediately make the point that they love themselves, but there’s a need to look at this a little deeper. People think if they boost their self-esteem that this equals self love. However, let me ask you this: if what you perceive as your self is basically fucked up, isn’t boosting the self-esteem of something inherently flawed still fucked up? Or put more bluntly, tell me you don’t experience yourself as alone and separate at least some of the time.

In other words, truly learning to love yourself unconditionally is to accept yourself as you are, fearlessly exploring where you are causing your own suffering, learning how to move away from those patterns, and creating newer ways of relating. I’m sure we have plenty of arrogant people walking around “loving” themselves, but that's not the kind of love I’m talking about here, people.

So there I was trying love to myself unconditionally, warts and all, trying to uncover where I was causing my own pain and embarking on that long and hard road back to my original self. I took a clear look at and became willing to undo my character defects. Along the way, I learned to relate to women as human beings, rather than as objects of my desire and made life-long friends in the process. In taking away the relationship (“I need you”) and sex (“I want to fuck you”) agenda, allowed me the space to relate to women as friends, as people, as equals.

And it was a great discovery for me. I mean women are totally fascinating creatures with thoughts, perspectives, ideas, compassion, etc. Okay, I'm exaggerating a little here, I knew all this before, but the process of removing the “game,” allowed me to experience women in ways I never dreamed of before and as a result, my relationships changed for the better.

Well, time passed, I grew, I became more comfortable in my own skin, to borrow a phrase from a friend, and I thought I had made great progress. And you know what? I did! I learned for example, that I was acting scripts, some of which were written before I was born; that I had major trust issues, that I often resisted true intimacy because I was afraid of allowing people close to me (and then wonder why I felt alone); I encountered a fear that fueled my anger -- all this with an attitude of acceptance and unconditional love. In addition, I was in the process of living a more spiritually centered life and I like to think that made me a better person.

Then I met the woman who would eventually become my wife…

Oh boy! My marriage was one of the most challenging experiences. Don’t get me wrong, I loved and was loved in return; I grew in ways I never imagined as a result of my marriage and I still reap the rewards of that union. But remember all those things I mentioned working on? That I thought I had at least partially resolved? They all came back with a vengeance!

At first I couldn’t understand it, where were all these little monsters coming from? Why were all my ego centered goblins running rampant in my love life? Didn’t I work through that anger issue? And the trust thingee I thought I got rid of that little fucker. Like abandoned children, all my little inner monsters were wreaking havoc with the tidy picture I was attempting to construct.

As I said before, relationships act as a mirror to our deepest selves and those little gremlins running around in the dark corners of our psyches will come out to play as soon as we get close to someone. It is almost impossible for us to get to know ourselves alone. There are always blind spots, unexplored corners of our past and present lurking somewhere. In this way, relationships become a way for us to put to the test all that we have learned. A relationship, especially a romantic relationship, is the crucible in which we dissolve the impurities of our hearts. It is where the dross is turned into the golden thread with which we sew the tears in our hearts.

Genuine love lies in making relationship like a practice -- a sacred discipline -- in which two people agree to make (and change) agreements, explore honesty (true honesty), and questioning assumptions

For me, awakening, or living in a more conscious manner, is a process. Sometimes I'm in a groove and things flow, at other times, I slip and really make an asshole of myself in the process. However the point is the practice, not the perfection, or playing to some spiritual stereotype. The point, I guess, is that uncovering the heart means exposing the very core of the self. This is a scary move into unknown territory, even though it is a part of our inner selves that we are uncovering. The heart symbolizes feeling and intuition. Though we may be fearful, the true danger is in the death, not the exploration, of the heart. But I have learned that the uncovered heart contains both vulnerability and strength. Its strength perhaps lies precisely in that ability to open itself to itself, with an exquisite grace that invites the hearts of others to do so too.

Love,

Eddie

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Love

I'm sure your readers would be really interested to hear about how he ended up capturing your heart so strongly - you're a sharp, attractive, Game-aware woman, so it'd be rather intriguing to hear your insights on what worked and what didn't. I especially like how you pointed out the mix of alpha and beta qualities, and would like to hear more about how that impacts you.


Great questions, thanks Veskrashens journey.  For those of you haven't read my blog before here's a quick synopsis.  Was involved in a serious ltr for many years and met the man when I was 20.  After it ended I took time off from relationships to get better this was a lengthy process.  I've been dating and have had several relationships over the last three years.  No one serious.  Some have been serious about me and would have married me.  Others I could see I would have gotten serious for but they ended it prior to the Love word being shared.  Till now...


When we (current relationship) first met it was physical attraction/chemistry for me.  I don't know what it was but I wanted to keep touching him.  We had wine in a restaurant and he sat beside me in a booth. Ordinarily this would weird me out on a first date but I wanted him near me.  We did not sleep together this night. I don't have 'rules' per se, but I've never been a first nighter chick. Just gotta say I wanted to.  I went home, he went to a friends because he lives out of town.  The next day I asked him if he wanted to do a day trip to the mountains (about 3 hours away).  He answered if it meant more time with me, then great.  He was easy to be with and the chemistry was just as strong as the previous night.  I drove my jeep and he touched me frequently - soft yet knowing touches.  I was turned on.  He started teasing me about an impending storm (there wasn't one) and how it be unsafe to drive home the same day. I knew he wanted to stay overnight.  I went with the joke and said it would be terribly dangerous to drive, needless to say we booked a hotel.  I won't go into detail but honestly best sex ever.  Sexually we are well matched - impossibly high drives combined with open mindedness.  


When I say he's a mix of alpha and beta qualities I mean this.  Alpha - has looks, good job, experience both in life and sexually and could attract women (and has) of any age.  He's also quiet, which makes him a bit of an enigma.  He's distant without being cold/cool about it.  He knows what he wants and would't tolerate drama or bitchyness and yet says this in a way that's not demanding or controlling - just is.  Beta - seeks shared values, tender, looks beyond the physical, expects monogamy on both sides, desires to be passionately in love with the whole person, not just the package.  Allows himself to be vulnerable by being honest about his challenges.  


I wasn't sure at first if this guy was a player.  He seemed too fantasticly matched for me to be real, and reading at Roissy doesn't help honestly.  You get somewhat biased in regards to men's playboy desires and forget that men and women desire love and connection for realz.  Yet I think I've learned a lot from Roissy's blog about what men want.  I've learned not to shit test and to give men their space.  I've learned that my feminine nature is desired and that being good natured is not a bad thing.  I work harder at not over analyzing what's going on in his head and have learned that being patient has won his heart faster than any demands I could have made.  Even in a recent episode where I thought he wasn't interested I didn't go bat shit crazy.  Long story short he was dealing with some pretty crazy life crap unrelated to me and I've learned he withdraws to his man cave to deal with it rather than seek support. Once we were able to talk I told him I understood and I wouldn't pressure him to reveal anymore than he wanted to.  This true support has allowed him to relax and he says his shoulder were able to drop in relief knowing he could share if he chose.  


Today he said one of things he loves about me is I always laugh, even at the annoying things others bitch about.  This is true.  I am a very positive person and see the glass half full pretty much always.  I think this may be a personality trait and one I'm fortunate to have.  That said I've had men in my life who haven't enjoyed that at all.  I think they might have believed I was too easy to please and they wanted more chase than they had to do for me.  Chasing a woman means they have higher value because they've been able to capture the 'prey'.  I don't make men I'm interested in chase me.  I have been choosy, but when I'm interested I have no desire in playing hard to get.  I am the kind of girl who loves to be devoted and am rather service oriented to her man.  Believe it or not men don't always like that. 


I'm a woman newly in love and feeling like shouting it from the mountain tops.  This relationship is only six months strong but he's darn convincing that it will go the distance.  Moving in will be a big step, but for whatever reason I feel it's the right decision.  I've waited a long time to meet the guy who makes me feel this way and I feel I've got enough discernment to judge character and intent.  I'm feeling very fortunate.  It's been worth the journey.  


Side Note:


He knows I write a blog.  He has no interest in reading it, in fact dealt with the news like "ah, cute, she's got a hobby."  I find this attractive too.  He's into me but not soooo into me he needs to know everything about me nor is he jealous others know about me.  He's not on Facebook and has seen mine with barely any attention paid to it. He doesn't care how many friends I have or if past boyfriends are on it.  He's a confident man who trusts in his ability to capture my attention.  He has it.