the notorious SSP

I've been "outed". While having drinks on a patio and playing random trivia games with friends on Saturday night, someone from another table looked up at me as i passed by on my way inside and asked "Are you a member fo the Slipshod Petticoats?". I was shocked. I didn't know what to say. I believe i replied "Why would you ask me that?" or something equally inane and stupid. He said that he thought he recognized me. "Even without the wig?" i joked, still incredulous and dumbfounded. He told me i had "distinctive features" - whatever that means. I couldn't get anyting else out of him, although one of his companions did offer up this useless piece of info "This is a small city..." - YOU DON'T FUCKING SAY!!!!

I've been racking my brains and the best i can come up with is that one of the trivia questions that come up was "In the movie 'The Graduate' , what was Mrs. Robinson's first name?" and although i'm not sure what her name was, i'm quite sure it is not the same as mine, despite the fact that mine was put out there for an answer. The conversation then turned to 21 year-olds (previously dealt with on this site) and several other potentially incriminating conversations - if one is an avid reader of our bloggeries. But maybe this is pretty weak speculation. Maybe i got drunk one night and handed the guy one of our "business cards" - ( a cocktail napkin or coaster with our address scribbled on it and reference to one of our posts), but i don't remember doing that and only several times in my entire life have i been intoxicated to the point of not remembering things...and the majority of those scattered few occurred when i was underage.

I'm not sure if i'm ready for notoriety of any kind. I enjoy my bloggery contributions, and it has been a lovely opportunity to bring out the closet exhibitionist in me, but being recognized as one of the writers of said bloggery is not going to assist me in my new job, which starts in several weeks. There are certain career paths that can be helped, or at the very least, not hindered by publishing one's sexual musings and adventures for all the world to see, but sadly, mine is not one of them. I'm pretty darn sure it would be frowned upon...to put it mildly. I'm not sure what to do.... could this be the end of the SSPs? Perhaps i'll have to start over under a new name and be a little bit more discreet about it all. But, if i do that, how long will it take for a new audience to build up? I mean, we're not the New Yorker or anything, but its nice to know that someone is following our misadventures..... what do you think about all of this? Am i being unnecccessarily paranoid just because one person called me on my alter-ego?

dog walking adventures

So, there's this guy who lives in my neighborhood whom i often see when i walk my dog. I have a slightly out-of-the-ordinary breed of dog, thus many people stop to pat him and ask me questions about him. This guy is among those people. After stopping several times to pat my dog over a week or so, he asked my name, told me his and invited me to sit on his front step with his friends. I like friendly people, but am not terribly comfortable hanging out on the front stoop of a house full of strangers. I thanked him for his offer, indicated my dog was out for a walk and did not wanted to sit on someone's step (this was a rather blatant lie - i am the proud owner of the laziest dog in the world, a dog who would have been quite happy to sit on the steps of a stranger's house). This is all rather unremarkable, i realize, but i am gradually getting to the point.

Yesterday, I saw the guy twice - in the morning, on his way to work, he passed by while i was ...yup, you guessed it, walking my dog (i have only recently acquired said dog - that is why he hasn't come up in previous bloggeries). We exchanged the usual pleasantries and he went on his way. Later on, when i was..walking my dog - again, i passed by his steps, he actually crossed the street to pat my dog and chat. He then said that we should "hang out sometime - get a coffee of something like that...". I was a bit taken off guard, thus i noddded and smiled and said that i was sure i'd see him around and we could decide then. I was hoping to put him off a little. While he seems like a nice, non-threatening individual, i am a bit leery of agreeing to "have coffee" with male strangers, not knowing exactly what they are getting at. Its true that i am seldom at a loss for words, and am known to be fairly entertaining,but i have to wonder if he is interested in something beyond conversation...y'know - a somewhat romantic interest. I am not really feeling much like romantic encounters with strangers that i am not particularily atttracted to.

But today, when i saw him on his way to work while i was...yes, yes, yes, i was walking my dog again, he whipped out a pen and asked for my number. And i gave it to him. Why? I am not sure. He's nice, i suppose...i'm not all that good at refusing in such situations. He isn't creepy or slimey...that i can tell at this point. He does, however, live in a frat house sort-of environment, with other recently graduated boys, all of whom like to sit on their steps and smoke pot, and watch the girls go by...walking their dogs.

While i am entirely prepared to tell perfect strangers all about my dog, i should better prepare myself not to tell them my name, or give out my number. Does that make me an unfriendly person? I hope not. I pride myself on being friendly and courteous. I would probably give my number out to someone to whom i was attracted...but those boys never seem to come up to pat my dog. Perhaps they are (i shudder to think...) ...cat people.

sex-ish etiquette

Today we are going to talk about etiquette, in sex-ish situations. "Sex-ish", I have decided, refers to scenarios that are somehow related to sex, sexual behaviour or sexual politics. Onward to the first of several queries...

Several nights ago, whislt partying with friends and happily shaking my booty on the dance floor to a fanfuckingtastic funk/pop/punk/electronic group that passed through town this weekend, a male friend-of-a-friend began grinding into me from behind and letting his hands wander freely. This attention was unwanted and uninvited. The dance floor was really far too crowded for me to explain in a friendly sort of way that I found his behaviour highly inappropriate, so I just left. Needless to say, it put a bit of a damper on my evening. Our paths cross frequently in our social circle, so I will inevitably see him again. I've been asking myself if I should just let it go. I hate being the strident, pain-in-the-ass friend who makes a big deal out of everything. This individual wasn't making me feel threatened, just annoyed. I wonder if he noticed my abrupt departure and made the connection? The answer, unfortunately, is proabably not. If someone is boorish enough to take the liberties of running his hands over my body as if he were tasting the ripeness of fruit, he probably isn't astute enough to know he caused me to miss the second set of aforementioned band.

I somewhat sheepishly explained the occurance to a common friend several days later. He thought that I should have come out with it at the time, and is probably right. But I think that what made me feel even stranger about the whole thing is that now, i am questioning my own behaviour. Not in that "did I deserve it?" kind of way - because NOBODY deserves unwanted sexual attention, but, by dressing provocatively, sporting a wig and red lips, did I issue an open invitation? Did he misinterpret my dancing from "I'm happily shaking my hips and feeling liberated in my little black dress without underwear" to "come hither and test the goods"?

***We interrupt this bloggery to attempt posting as i am on shitty (but free!) dial-up that tends to cut out on me......more etiquette issues later on this evening

shit, its dark out there for mid-afternoon. also, i am out of grape kool-aid.


THE NEXT DAY........

Continuing on from yesterday...was that yesterday? One of the many beautiful things about summer time - it all sort of blends together...

So, the other "sex-ish" situation: As I was walking down a busy street on Saturday morning (post illegal feel-up Friday), I practically ran into the 21 year old from several weeks back. I didn't know what to do! I suppose I could have been mature and said "hi!", but I was afraid he might want to chat a bit and I wasn't entirely certain if I would get his name right...Yikes! That sounds terrible! I'm sure we all have those nights occasionally, right? I had a boyfriend in grade 7 who called me a derivitive of my actual name the whole 2 weeks we went out, so really, a brief flirtation and a mediocre fuck does not neccessarily make someone's name stick in your head - right? Gosh, i really am looking for some justification here. I sure hope someone out there comes through for me...

Being that i didn't take the mature route, can you guess what i actually did? I averted my gaze behind my enormous sunglasses, and prayed that he wouldn't recognize me with my recently changed hair colour. I held my breath (as if not breathing would make me invisible) and we both passed, like two ships in the night (was that proper usage of that expression? i SO wanted to use it, but i'm not sure if it feels right). Well, now that we know what I should have done, and what i actually did, how about a third option? What i could have done. Had i mentioned before that he left his gap boxers on my bedroom floor? Yup, he did. And i threw 'em in the dishcloth wash and then proceeded to use them to shine my bathroom mirror and then to clean the outside of the toilet. Not to be mean or anything, just because they were made of a nice cotton that works well for polishing mirrors. So, i could have said "Hey! Do you want your undies back? I used them to clean my toilet yesterday, but i'm sure they'd be perfectly servicable again once you throw 'em in the wash....."

Its probably a good thing that i'm not an advice columnist.....

aw shucks...

Do you know what i really find to be a curious (for lack of a better word...perhaps instead i could substitute puzzling or even perplexing) idea? The notion that one can proclaim themselves (or be proclaimed by another) as "good in bed". I think really that can only be determined on a case by case basis. In a longer-term sexual relationship (let's define longer term as a situation on which 2 individuals have repeated sexual encounters over any period of time longer than a weekend), there are ups and there are downs. Sometimes that sex will be fabulous and other times, it will be lame (and yes, lame sex does exist - i've already debunked the "sex is like pizza" theory on a previous posting, but for those of you who haven't been following, i'll reiterate: many years ago, a friend of mine, in trying to convince me to sleep with him (my excuse was that if i was bad in bed, our friendship would never be the same again), said; "Sex is like pizza - even when it is bad, its still good." LIAR, LIAR, PANTS ON FIRE! Bad sex is when the sex is boring, when i'm so disinterested that i can't even focus myself enough to orgasm, because i'm too busy wondering when it will be over so that i can change the laundry in the washer over to the dryer, or what i'm going to eat for breakfast the next day, etc. ..... bit of a tangent there, but i wanted to ensure that we were all on the same page, more or less. Where was i? oh! right....longer term sexual relationships. So, if you get to sleep with someone on a regular basis, you can decide if they are "good in bed" - for you. Someone can be good in bed for one person, but not at all for someone else. At least if it is an ongoing thing, variables that might affect a person's...ahem..performance..can be taken into consideration.

I've certainly had my share of less-then-stellar sexual performances for one reason or another. I was in a relationship that should have ended a year before it did, and by the end of it, i practically hated him, thus the sex was so horrific, that i pretty much lost my taste for, as it were. I compared it drinking too much of a specific type of alcohol and getting violently ill from it, thus never, ever being able to drink it again without feeling nauseous. For me, it was tequila. One silly night in my early 20s, trying to prove that i wasn't a "girly girl", i took on a dare, involving straight-up shots of tequila (no lemon, no salt, no chasers). I threw up for 3 days afterwards, lost my boyfriend of the time (by telling him off repeated in a tequila -induced slur when he suggested that i might want to get in a cab and go home - "You do'n own me, ya basthard...d'ya thinkya own me?") but did actually date the other participant in the tequila shooting contest for a brief period shortly thereafter...
I was a bartender all through university and everytime i had to pour a shot of tequila, or make a margarita, i nearly 'chucked. And that, my friends, is how i was feeling about heading back out into the sexual world - until fairly recently...several months back...in fact, shortly after we started writing this bloggery. I guess that is more evidence for my realisation of my exhibitionist tendencies.

I used to think i was "good in bed" - i had certainly had some pretty hot sex over the years. But the last little while, i had started to question that claim. Now, however, i feel as though i can say, with cetainty, that i am good in bed...or at least i was this weekend. At least that's what i've been told....aw shucks! i'm blushing!

is time really on your side?

This is going to be brief, as i am on vacation and writing on a borrowed computer, the owner of which probably wouldn't be really pleased to read the contents of this blog (and seeing how he's my dad, i can't say i'd blame...i'm all for shock value, but there are lines that must be drawn occasionally). Sorry for the lack of visual titallation as of late, but that problem will be looked after when i return to my adopted home town (and thus my own laptop) on the weekend.

I have come to the conclusion, that when it comes to sex, there is in fact an expiration time - unless of course you're really into it, in which case you are ready to go at any time, in any place, for as long as you can possibly sustain it, until the friction burns become too painful. However, if it is just sex for the sake of getting laid - enjoyable and certainly necessary - timing is key.

Last night, i almost blurted out the words "he who hesitates is lost, dammit!", because, well, i just wanted him to get on with it. Foreplay is lovely, but once it goes on beyond a certain point, the casual fuck becomes "making love" - and that is not always the objective..in fact, call me a cold-hearted bitch, but it is seldom my objective. i have a limit to the amount of foreplay i can handle - i don't need much, generally, especially when the aforementioned "casual fuck" is the goal of the evening. Anyone with a clue and a bit of style can slip seamlessly from "heavy petting" (god, i hate that term - but in such a way that i wanted to gross myself out by sliding it in there), to hot sex. Let's face it, if you wait too long, the hot sex becomes tepid sex and if you really wait to long, the steamy, ragged breath, the quivering, willing body, and most importantly, the perfectly tuned-in mind, can start to wane a little...as in "shit, this bed is uncomfortable...i have a cramp in my lower left calf...did i pay my phone bill yet this month?" and so on and so forth. Time is not on your side boys - get in there and do your job. Some of us, it would appear, have sexual attention deficit disorder....is there any medication for that, i wonder?