Tuesday, January 27, 2009

wakey, wakey

Well. Despite what I said a year ago, I haven't actually given this bloggery a moment's consideration. And y'know, looking at that last post made me a little bit sad. not in a nostalgic sort of way..not exactly. I wrote that I had had a sort of sexual liberation. Which was true - at the time. However, i seem to have regressed - a whole lot. I'm not at all sure what made me go through the long and arduous process of recovering passwords, resetting accounts, and all the other various steps that i had to go through to get to the point of being able to post again on this long-forgotten bloggery, but i think it is this: in returning to my hometown after a lengthy absence (approximately eight years), i have returned to who i was before i left....in fact, long before i left. When i left here i was a young pup in my early 20s, with, in retrospect, so much to learn. funny though, i thought i was a smokin' hot babe and that the world was just waiting ot fall at my feet. Several years before that however, i was a perpetually cute bookworm, nerd-chic before it was a desirable persona. Without going any further into the various developmental stages one goes through before emerging both defeated and enlightened in one's early 30s, i find that in repressing my "violet petticoat"-side for a more librarian-esque "reading is sexy - slutty photos in racy lingerie are not" side, i lost more of violet than i had ever intended. In fact, the only evidence that remains of the past few years is here, in the cyberworld of the Slipshod Petticoats. Now, it reads like a story that i not only wish i had written, but wish i had lived. But wait! I did! I did both write and live all that stuff! ..didn't i? Why am i lamenting this right now? Tonight of all nights, when i have papers to write, lecture notes to prepare, Phd applications to fill out, an impending migraine pulsating on the periphery of my brain and a lovely, kind, trusting boyfriend to make a long-distance phone call to. That, gentle readers, might be the answer to the question.
The boyfriend. It isn't exactly that i'm a committment-phobe. Well, maybe a wee bit. I do relish my freedom, especially when it leaves me open for those unexpected racy nights, that start with not-so-innocent (but seemingly so) flirtation and end with hot, steamy sex, a sleepover, a little breakfast (more not-so-innocent flirtation) and then, more steamy sex. The possibilities were endless and entertaining. Those kind of nights left one smug, breathless and happy not to be one of those people who called their significant other a pet name, and picked them up banal items at the drugstore, like a toothbrush, or some razor blades. However, the older you get, the less frequent such encounters, and the more you begin to wonder if maybe, just maybe, you miss the banalities of long-term relationships. When i accidentally fell into my current situation, i hadn't considered that it might turn into a long-term thing. It was one of those "oh-what-the-hell" kind of things. Friend-of-friends, home for a visit, a bit of silly fun and that would be the end of it. At the point at which it commenced, I was going through a bit of a phase....a non-sex kitten phase. A wholesome-girl-next-door phase. An "I'm-rejecting-excessive-over-the-top-sexuality-becasue-I-think-it's-immature phase. So, it isn't the committment -phobe in me that's sounding the alarms. It's just that i have become committed under maybe slightly false pretenses. And now, here i am, half a year later, wondering what happened to violet petticoat? She's stirring inside my brain, stretching and yawning, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and... wondering what the hell happened to all the lacy lingerie and the hot action. Can't say i blame her - i'm wondering the same thing myself.

hmmmmmmmmmm.....a quick caveat here: i'm not saying i'm going out looking for the long-lost action, i'm just saying that maybe, just maybe, things need to change. i mean, how would YOU feel if your seemingly sweet, naive girlfriend had actually been writing about her sexual adventures - prior to meeting you- for all the internet to see? betrayed? hurt? or....turned on?

Tuesday, December 11, 2007

hello again

my oh my. it sure has been awhile! so much has happened and so much has changed that i wonder of i should just scrap the SSPS all together and move to something new. starting fresh certainly has its appeal. in fact, it's almost a appealing as the soy pralines and pecan faux ice cream that i am currently licking off a spoon. yum. i dunno what to do. poppy and i sure had some fun times playing with this bloggery of ours, but evidently, it has gone by the way side. poppy and i don;t even live in the same province anymore, let alone the same house. racy photo ops don;t often present themselves and i have yet to find a partner-in-crime in my new life in a new city. well, not exactly new. a return of sorts...not quite as triumphant as i had hoped. i sort of just ...slinked back into town becaule i didn't know what else to do with my life. one little grad school application set the wheels in motion and the next thing i knew..voila! here i was. back in my hometown, buying a little house and inheriting my parent's furniture. i shit you not, it looks like martha stewart got her little hands on my living room. but then i got my hands back on it and turned it into a happy disaster. hmmm...that's all you get for now, lack of raciness, i realize, although, i did have the BEST SEX of my life a few days ago. for real. i've had a sexual liberation...more later, i'm just testing out the ol' typing fingers for now and deciding if i should bother with this anymore..

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

...one more thing

I just checked the archives and it seems that i didn't actually post anything related to v.day last year, so the anecdote in "the eve of ...posting" (see below..although this was actually written as a "post-script") is all cool, and not repeated. good for me for not even acknowledging last year's feb.14th. this year, it seems that a wee bit of cynicism has creeped into my tone of voice. i refuse to apologize for it. why the cynicism? i think that i'm a bit pissed off that i have become involved in a "fuck and run" situation. pissed off at myself, that is. it seems like such a good idea at the time...y'know, real sex, as opposed to um...manufactured sex... . i think i'll put a stop to it..maybe just one more time...

here's a little liz phair to lighten the mood...
And almost immediately I felt sorry
'Cause I didn't think this would happen again
No matter what I could do or say
Just that I didn't think this would happen again
With or without my best intentions, and

I want a boyfriend
I want a boyfriend
I want all that stupid old shit
Like letters and sodas
Letters and sodas

I can feel it in my bones
I'm gonna spend another year alone
It's fuck and run
Fuck and run
Even when I was seventeen
Fuck and run
Fuck and run
Even when I was twelve

The eve of saint valentine

Here we are on the Eve of Saint Valentine....but what does that mean, exactly? What does it mean to me? Pretty much fuck all, to tell the truth. I used to get all worked up about it...but not in the "omigod it is valentine's day and i don't have anyone to send me roses.." way. Instead, i had a small, elite group of friends with whom i anti-celebrated such a bullshit Hallmark-owned, manufactured-to-sell-more-greeting-cards-and-cheap-chocolates holiday. We called it "Black _____day" (fill in the blank with the appropriate day of the week. in this case, it would be Black Wednesday. I don't think i'll actually bother this year. I've become that apathetic. for real. Here's some important information for y'all:

Under the rule of Emperor Claudius II Rome was involved in many bloody and unpopular campaigns. Claudius the Cruel was having a difficult time getting soldiers to join his military leagues. He believed that the reason was that roman men did not want to leave their loves or families. As a result, Claudius cancelled all marriages and engagements in Rome. The good Saint Valentine was a priest at Rome in the days of Claudius II. He and Saint Marius aided the Christian martyrs and secretly married couples, and for this kind deed Saint Valentine was apprehended and dragged before the Prefect of Rome, who condemned him to be beaten to death with clubs and to have his head cut off. He suffered martyrdom on the 14th day of February, about the year 270. At that time it was the custom in Rome, a very ancient custom, indeed, to celebrate in the month of February the Lupercalia, feasts in honour of a heathen god. On these occasions, amidst a variety of pagan ceremonies, the names of young women were placed in a box, from which they were drawn by the men as chance directed.

Romantic, yes? A day that is marked by the majority of the western world, that in fact celebrates the beheading of a priest, and marks a day of ancient tradition that allowed men to draw the names of woman from a box, to do with as they pleased.

The last Valentine's Day that i actually "celebrated" in a "normal" way (meaning that i was involved with someone and decided to do the whole i'll-buy-you-some-edible-massage-oil-and-we'll-go-out-for-dinner) went something like this:
I made the reservations, he came home late, high on coke, we went out for dinner (that he didn't eat, as a result of being too coked up), and then we came home, and didn't have sex (as a result of him being too coked up). There were no roses (he forgot and spent any extra money we had kicking around on coke), but my dad did send me some carnations, with a card saying "from your secret admirer" and my then (coke-head) boyfriend picked a fight with me over them, because he didn't believe they were from my dad, but instead fabricated an affair between me and my much older, married, unattractive boss. Ah, romance. Forgive my cynicism. I just realized that i may have shared this delightful anecdote with you all last year - perhaps i should check the archives.

On a more uplifting note: Poppy and i reunited this past weeekend for some fun photo-ops. We donned our wigs and drove out to Lawrencetown beach with all kinds of fun props on hand, but ran into several difficulties:
1.) Her camera was left in someone's car and not available, so we broke out my antiquated digital camera (for whihc i have no cord to hook it up to the computer to download the meager amount of pictures we took). We also had my 1974 canon SE (i'm really much more of a manual kind of gal), but that would require film developing and scanning to get up on this bloggery, which may happen sometime in the future, but not tonight.

2.) It was FUCKING FREEZING, and we just did a little flashing, as opposed to any full scale strippin' down to our undies (specially picked out for your viewing pleasure - mine were hot pink with "Free Nfld" printed on them - very sexy indeed..maybe they'll make it onto another post sometime)

3.) We had a near-death experience on the way to the beach. It went like this :

Violet: Hey - there's new lights installed up there. A red light...

Poppy: Weird - i've never noticed those before.

Violet: It is just one lane over that little bridge...HOLY FUCK! THERE'S A TRUCK COMING RIGHT TOWARDS US AND IT ISN'T STOPPING!

Poppy: Oh shit...what the fuck is his problem???

Violet: What an asshole! (as we backed up rapidly, amidst beeping of horns and much middle finger gesturing from the oncoming driver)

...Now, look back to the beginning of all that and notice what we remarked on but failed to comply with...a RED LIGHT, which evidently was in place to control the traffic due to the ONE lane...ooops.

After we recovered from our shock, (and the near-frostbite we incurred due to our little beach photo shoot) we decided to mark the near-death occasion by taking pics of each other flashing in front of the temporarily set-up light that nearly killed us both. All i have to do to get them online is to find the cord of a Kodak easyshare camera, circa 2001. Do you have one i can borrow?

This little adventure also earned me a splinter in the palm of my right hand (i'm guessing from the railing on the boardwalk) that i can't remove, try as i might (i'm right handed which makes delicate operations using my left hand a bit tricky). This is what i am really lamenting over this eveing, on the eve of saint valentine. Not that i am alone and have no one to buy my flowers and cheap chocolate. That i am alone and have no one to take the goddamn splinter out of my hand, where it will fester to the point of infection, turn gangrene-ish, and my hand will have to be amputated, meaning that i won't be able to play my guitar to finish the song i started writing last night. hopefully, they will catch it before the infection spreads to the rest of my body and i will live to write another bloggery. ...


Thursday, February 08, 2007

everything you wish...

...that someone had told you about sex. How do we find out about sex? Aside from the grade 6 "talk" given by an awkward, uncomfortable, under-paid teacher, i mean. i'm not sure how "kids these days" are finding out...movies? television? stealing the Sydney Sheldon novels off their mom's bookshelves and earmarking the pages with the dirty stuff on it and then passing it around to their friends? (not that i ever did anything like that....okay, okay, i DID do that. it leads to problems later in life though. I swear, to this very day, i cannot look at a penis without immediately thinking about good ol' sydney's descriptions of "his hot, pulsating, member.." or other such laughable adjectives. it almost makes me giggle EVERYTIME. in fact, i have to supress giggles). A few weeks ago, while out for friday drinks with friends, somehow the topic of being a dominatrix came up (funny how that happens, isn't it?). i immediately blurted out that i could do it. for sure i could be a dominatrix - i think i might like wearing vinyl corsets and spiky thigh-high boots every now and then. However, my hopes were instantly dashed by a friend who said "no, you could not! you'd start to giggle!". and i had to agree with him. i would. although, i'd still like to try it out sometime, just to see. i think it's really the costume i'm after, as opposed to humiliating someone else. i guess i could just dress up like a dominatrix and see what happens. but then, i suppose, that whoever i dressed up for might feel compelled to play the part of one who is being dominated. you really just never know what is going to through people's heads, or where these hidden desires have come from. which leads me back to the original thought... Where and when do we form our ideas about sex? and how does it vary from our sexual reality? Some people are just very sexually liberated, i guess, and have no problem bringing things out from their minds into the bedroom (or back seat of a car, or public washroom, alley way, kitchen table, etc.). And some are more likely to keep things tucked away to save for those private moments, when a vibrator and a vivid imagination are needed to help us get to sleep at night (that is how people get to sleep on those "tossing and turning" kind of nights, isn't it? i mean, really, who counts sheep anymore?). There are lots of tidbits of knowledge that i wish i could impart onto someone who slowly fumbling their way through their sexual life. Not that i know SO much about sex, but there are lots of little things that we all know from which others could benefit. I remember the first time i had sex, i was shocked to discover that sex smelled like tart'n'tiny candies. Remember those? (if you don't remember those, then you are not old enough to read this bloggery and should exit, post-haste). They came in a little foil envelope-type package and were tinsy little cylindrical, pastel coloured sugary, teeth-breaking things. And, they taste how sex smells. yup. Another thing that i never would have considered in my pre-sexual life is how very slippery sex can be. Even on the coldest nights in a poorly insulated house (okay, okay, i'm describing my house, and the slipperiness of my sex life), a good romp in the sack gets really slidey and slippery...in a good way, of course. But prior to having the kind of sex that makes you..ahem..wet (in a variety of ways), one might not consider such things. i fondly recall one of my favorite sexual learning experiences everytime opportunity arises (pun intended..you'll see what i mean in a minute). When i was about 17, my best (and more sexually experienced) friend taught me how to give head using a spoon. Sounds strange, i suppose, that she didn't go in for the standard thing, like some form of produce, but it worked for me (i mean, i guess it did...no one has complained thus far...but then again, do men ever complain about getting a blow job?). This girl knew what she was up to, even at such a tender age. She is now dating a woman - men everywhere are weeping. However, if her skills transfered over, i'll bet her girlfriend is screaming...in ecstasy, that is. It is nice to be back in the bloggery world. I knew i needed to get something new up when a regular reader said she took a peek the other day and thought "How nice - violet is having hot sex these days..." but then looked at the date, and realized that chances were, that situation was no longer current. she was right. BUT, i was happy to tell her that i have been having some good sex..the slippery kind that keeps you warm on a cold, -16 degree winter night. i'm not sure if it will continue, but it sure has been nice not having to count sheep. xoxo violet

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

Do you think we're less inclined to discuss our sex lives when we are involved with someone? I mean, as opposed to just the one-nighter, or even the "sex only" relationship...? Perhaps it depends with whom one finds oneself with. Some people would be flattered to have their sexual techniques verbally applauded for all to see, while others are not so keen about someone hanging their sexual dirty laundry on the so-called clothesline (or in this case, the internet). But is is unethical of me to discuss such details? It's not as though i'm giving out names and phone numbers or anything....

I've been having some GREAT sex as of late, and although lately i've been pondering the "stay or go" question, along with the "sex/emotional attachment" issue, maybe it is time i got right down to the nitty-gritty: what makes great sex truly great? what's the difference between "good" sex and "great" sex. and to take it one level higher, what makes it "mindblowing"? that's the kind we all want, i'm sure. i mean, i guess, right? are there people out there who will settle for luke-warm, mediocre sex? and if so, why? i'm going to post this now, and think about the answers while i'm at work today. work, for me, is a completely non-sexual environment. people don't talk about it (except for the occasional lunchtime banter), and the working conditions certainly don't inspire sexual comtemplation. Although, one day a few weeks ago, after a particularly steamy night, i found myself walking around in a state of total distraction - physically and mentally. I could barely think, let alone interact with co-workers. I'm working a one-year probationary contract, and probably shouldn't let things like my misadventures of the previous evening distract me quite so much, but c'mon, how often does the night before inspire a whole day of blissful remembrance? More later, i'm going to be late....

Sunday, November 19, 2006

of shrink wrap and shredding

It's sunday again, and you all know how i feel about sundays......blah. i feel ...blah-ish. and it really is quite a sunday out there in the world of halifax. Gray, drizzling, chilly....the trees are bare and it is quite easy to get caught up in the dullness of it all and let it affect one's mood. part of me feels like succumbing to "the sundays" (the highly original name i have affixed to this state of mind that so frequently sweeps over me on the 7th - or 1st, depending on your point of view - day of the week) and part of me is considering raging against it. perhaps "raging" is too strong a word. i may be able to sustain a more neutral mind frame, but the strength implied by the term "raging" is not available to me on a sunday.

i think i should have saved my consumerism indulgence for today. i caved yesterday (generally i've been trying to limit purchases to groceries and necessities, such as high quality 100% cotton made in canada socks, with the occasional luxury, such as a new book or some pot) but i went out yesterday and bought a slipcover for one of the love seats in my living room. 2 points need to be raised here:

1) i hate the term "love seat" and am now going to change it to "lilliput sofa"...or maybe just "lilliput"...i hope the rev. jonanthan swift doesn't mind that i'm lifting Gulliver's Travels terminology for application to furniture.
2) it was a much-needed , long overdue purchase. the plaid print on my hand-me-down furniture was not only offensive, but also depressingly dark and covered with dog fur and drool.

Now for the lament; if only i had saved my consumerism for today, not only would i have the increased possibility of lifting myself out of the sundays (new books always thrill me in a way that very few things can), but also, the new book that i purchased yesterday, Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs (a pop culture manifesto is the sub title, i think, but i cannot check it for you and you're about to find out why) would still be in readable condition, as opposed to headed for the recycling bin...MY DOG ATE IT.

Can you fucking believe it??? completely shredded. THAT FUCKER. he is currently barricaded in the kitchen so that i don't have to look at him. instead, i am looking at the sad remains of my brand new book. i couldn't afford to buy it really, and i certainly can't afford to replace it. But since i've been developing my optimistic skills, i can say this; at least now i am no longer feeling apathetic, as i was when i commenced today's bloggery (which is what i was doing upstairs while that beastly creature chowed down on my brand new book in the living room), but am feeling rather PISSED OFF. I am now completing tasks in a rather aggressive manner. I just shrink-wrapped my living room window in an angry kind of way. I cursed myself for renting an old, drafty house that requires shrink-wrap on the windows. I cursed myself for doing such a piss-poor job of putting up the curtain rods with a hammer, as opposed to a screw driver, so they were next to impossible to get down so that i could apply the shrink wrap. I cursed the shrinkwrap for being so damn difficult to deal with. Then, as a result of the hair dryer and space heater running from the same socket, i shorted out that circuit and a variety of other electric things shut off. i cursed. loudly. my dog shrank away, pitifully, afraid that he was going to be, once again, the receipiant of my wrath. maybe i should shrink-wrap him as well. to a wall, or perhaps between the palastic wrap and the window pane, until spring. perhaps i will have forgiven him by then.

i grabbed a flashlight and headed for the creepy basement, where i felt an oddly misplaced sense of pride, as i was able to navigate the circuit board or breakers, or what ever the hell all those switches are down there and successfully restore power to that portion of the house. yay! i am a superhero...sort of.

How do you feel about the new layout? is the pink a bit much? probably. the template was called "rosy" and at that moment, prior to the book destruction, i was feeling the potential for a "rosy" sort of day. that feeling has waned considerably, but i'll attmept to continue my optimistic feelings for sunday....maybe more coffee and some dark chocolate will help...

Saturday, November 18, 2006

should i stay or should i go?

Today we are going to talk about the emotional - or lack thereof - connection to sex. I threw in the "lack thereof" caveat as a conversation i had several months back has slipped into my mind. I was walking with a couple of friends downtown to catch a band when the subject came up (as it always seems to...is it that we are a society obsessed? don't we have anything better to talk about? I posed this question once and was met with this reply; "What could be better?").

The conversation went something like this (i have to dig deep into the recesses of my mind, as it was several months back...and why, you well may ask, do i not have anything more recent to draw upon? The answer is forthcoming...as i get to my point (and reason for the train of thought of this bloggery entry) you will better understand why i've been slow on the updates as of late:

Friend A (female) - in response to us questioning the current state of her relationship with a common friend of mine and the other walking companion: "I guess I'm just a relationship kind of person...I've never really been into short relationships, or dating people...I just can't sleep with someone without an emotional attachment....can you?"

Friend B (male): Sure.

Me (violet): You betcha.

There was a bit more to the chat, I suppose, but that is really the "bare bones" of it. But as i have been embarking upon a pseudo-casual relationship as of late, and teetering on the brink of emotional attachment, i've been thinking about that question and my response to it. You see, i've always been able to detach one from the other (sex from emotion, that is). While i realize that sex is usually better when one invests some emotion into it, i think i have trained myself not to. I remember reading somewhere (probably in some trashy magazine in which a pop-psychologist answers the questions and woes of the "typical" North American female - back in the day when i went in for that sort of thing...i was young, and in need of guidance, but don't worry, i've long since come to my senses, and no longer induldge in such printed crap on glossy pages) that women instantly become emotionally attached to someone after sex...apparently, it is biological. Men, however, don't. At the time, i remember thinking that i was defying biology, as up until that point, i felt no emotional attachment to the men with whom i had slept. At the time, it was something of a smug, secret thing i prided myself on. But all these years later, it makes me worry just a wee bit.

Currently, I am casually involved with someone. The situation does not lend itself to quick progresion though, because he is recently out of a long relationship that ended badly. Although things have been pretty "full on" (as in weekend road trips, evening dinners, movies and hot sex, and even plenty of day time activities (that one always gets a reaction from friends, as in "Oooo, day dates? Must be going somewhere..." I'm not just referring to my situation here - the "day time activity" analysis seems to be applied far and wide when trying to ascertain the progression of a new relationship). HOWEVER, just the other night, i was treated to the "i really like hanging out with you and want it to continue just like it is, but my friends and family have all said that they don't think i should get into a serious relationship so quickly and that i should really be open to dating other people right now and i guess i agree with them....but i still want to spend time with you." WHAT THE FUCK? i'm all for seeking advice from others, but generally try not to allow the opinions of my family and friends to have that great an influence on me. I have translated it thusly:

"While i really enjoy the fact that you have been around for the past month or so to hold my hand when i get upset about the demise of my past relationship, to prevent me from feeling lonely and that you're great in the sack, my friends have advised me not to get seriously involved with someone, and i am not going to make my own decisions, but instead, listen to others instead of myself."

So now what? I knew what i was getting into right from the beginning, so i can't act as though it is a total shock. I have also been keeping something of an emotional distance, so i'm not falling to pieces or anything, BUT my concern is this: if i continue to keep myself from getting emotionally caught up with the people (actually person - i'm not much for being involved with more than 1 person at a time) i am sleeping with, will i ever be able to? Is this a permenant affliction? And as for this situation, this individual who still wants things to stay the way they are, but with the understanding that should someone else strike his fancy, he's up and gone, should i stay or i should i go? Unlike him, i'm not seeking advice from friends or family, i am seeking advice from complete and utter strangers on the internet.