Before I got on the train to go to DC this weekend I went out for a bottle of wine with one of my professors, so for the begining of the ride I was kinda lit. I have a trigger that is set off by a certain BAC- I start making flirty eyes at everyone. Across the aisle and two rows up was a tall, broad shouldered, 20 something boy who I couldn't help looking up and down when he walked across to the bathroom. At one point I made some prolonged eye contact, and my half-bottle of wine made me smile a little as I eye-fucked him a little. I might have licked my lips. Who knows.

I headed up to the snack car hoping to get a delightfully fake-tasting, vacuum-packed sammich. As I'm standing in line, I feel something on the back of my neck. It's that guy! "I like your scarf." What a weirdo! Well whatever, I got like 2 more hours to kill. He asks if I wanna have a drink with him, but didn't offer to pay for it, so I figured I wasn't implying anything by it, right?

Turns out he's in the Navy, get a A.S. in Phys Ed, would be a personal trainer if he could only pass the test, lives in Jersey and makes it clear he hates all of it. A real winner. "So that's why I have to drink." Hot. I give it a good effort, I smile and flip my hair and I do the eye thing a little. He's not subtle about looking me up and down appreciatively but I can't get him to say much. We finish out drinks and head back to our seats. Just as I start in on my Vogue he sits down next to me to share his big bottle of rum and coke. Well, ok.

"What's the craziest thing you've done lately?" Hmm, what's the lamest movie line you've quoted lately? I ramble about getting arrested or the shit we pulled this summer, and that isn't doing it for him. "When's the last time you were really satisfied?" Ha. Haha. Wow. I'm a super bitch so I say "What?" and make him repeat it. "Hmm, the last time I was really satisfied...wow... I guess like, Sunday? Or maybe Wednesday or Tuesday. But definitly Sunday." He was not expecting that. "Wow you're doing better than me!"
"Well, that's not you're fault, you're in the goddamn Navy!"
"Yeah but still....like, last Sunday?"
"Yeah I do ok."

Navy guy starts to look for a way to convince me to mess around on the boy I'm on my way to see. Y'all have got to stop that, it's sorta pathetic. His deep depression is breaking my heart so I sorta lean in and tell him that if I'd met him on a train a few months ago, I would be trying like hell to get him to sneak into the bathroom with me.

Is that true? That's something I used to think about on the train, how hot it would be to meet a stranger and sneak off to the bathroom and tear into each other. C'mon, it sounds hot. If it weren't for S, would I wanna get on Navy boy? If I was just heading home, no boy anywhere, and this great looking but a bit dim, just off from the military was trying this hard, what would make me say no?

And where are these guys when I don't have a better option waiting for me? I shut it off over the summer, and now I've had like 5 guys do this, come on really strong and then try to talk me into it after I explain. Points for persistance, but come on, don't be that guy!

No really, I AM a nice girl!

I like to think that fun porn-type stuff like that is just an add-on to already good sex. If "normal" sex is vanilla, porn inspired kink is the toppings. I don't want to only have vanilla ice cream, but I don't want to eat a bowl of sprinkles.

I can't decide how I feel about the Jezebel article "How Porn Ruined Sex." The thesis is that because guys have been watching porn since they were 10, their conception of good sex is so skewed that they pretty much only appreciate kinky, fetishy things and that because of the evil porn, women are forced to do things they don't want to do. I'm also kind of psyched cause I know the girl from the opening anecdote from my freshman dorm. I think.

Like pretty dumb things said, the article works off the assumption that there's no intersection between anything you see in porn and anything girls want to do. Um I secretly wish I was a porn star. Not really, but you know what I mean. I'm excited that my new digicam takes video, is all I'm saying. I have a schoolgirl skirt I would never wear in public. I have handcuffs. Not gonna lie, sometimes I love acting like a porn star.

I guess I was a naive little ho because I thought I could just do whatever I wanted and that maybe someone would, I dunno, like that about me. That didn't work out so well. Why would a virile, sexy guy throw away the cute, smart, sexy girl that can't get enough of him and who genuinely loves indulging him for the girl who had no interest, who he had to beg for it?

The article says that because of porn women have to do slutty things they don't want to do to keep guys interested. But wanting to do them reduces you to fucking trash that isn't worth your time or respect. I feel like I talk about this all the time but it just infuriates me.

Later in the article there's a quote from a guy into S&M that says, "I do that to keep from getting too close to women." And you wonder why they're so reluctant. Again, maybe I'm just naive but I don't think it has to work that way.

X mas

Around the middle of October, Christmas stuff started creeping up in stores, and I couldn't have been more excited. I'm the rare person who loves all things Christmas and has nothing against drawing it out as long as possible. The first sighting of the Starbucks Gingerbread Latte makes me want to jump up and down. I dragged my mom out early in the morning the weekend after Thanksgiving to get a tree, I had a burst of energy that fueled a day of light stringing and garland hanging and of course cookie baking. I can't wait to get home and make cookies and cakes and candies and wrap presents and drink yummy holiday cocktails...

Christmas, like me, is all about indulgence. Indulging yourself and other people. I mean, it's all about presents and eating and drinking and parties... It's the sexiest holiday, I just want to run around in my red lace boyshorts and a Santa hat baking cookies and fucking in front of a fireplace.

Scenes from the Metro

"Ok I'm gonna play the cube game with you," S said with a devious little smile. "It's a fun psychoanalysis game, to let me know how fucked up you are." Sounds like fun to me. I'll take any personality quiz, I'll contemplate my fucked-up-ness for an entire afternoon. Bring it.

"Ok picture a space, like a room. Any space." Ok. Four walls, ceiling, floor. "Now picture a cube. What's it look like?"

"It's about the size of a rubik's cube, but it's black and shiny."


"Is it opaque or transparent? Where is it?"

"It's definitly opaque, very solid, sitting on the floor."

"Ok now there's a bed of flow- no, just flowers, what do they look like?"

"Well since you said bed or course it's a bed. The bed is set in the hardwood floor, two by three feet, and that space is filled with flowers."

"And the flowers, are they big or small?"

"They're big, tall, like tulips and daffodils. Very lush."

"Ok there's a ladder, where is it?"

"It's a normal like eight foot ladder, up against the wall."

"Ok, ok that's good, against the wall..."

"Yeah I guess it just leads to the ceiling. I don't want to climb it."

"You don't?"

"No, I mean, it's not like it goes anywhere, and the floor does not look like it has a very high coefficient of friction, the ladder will probably slip."

"Interesting. Now there's a horse."

"There's a horse? In the room?"

"Sure."

"If you say so"

"So describe the horse.'

"He's very pretty, he's just chilling. Eating some flowers."

"The horse is eating the flowers?"

"Sure, horses eat flowers right? I mean, deer eat flowers. A horse would too, if you put them in front of him. And what else is he gonna do? Climb the ladder? Play with my cube? It's a horse!"

"Well....ok..... does he seem happy to be there?"

"I guess, he's hanging out. I'm sure he'd rather be outside. He's a horse. He doesn't belong indoors"

"Hmm. Ok. Well there's a storm. Describe it."

"Well it's just thunder and lightening and rain and all but I like thunderstorms. And it's outside. I'm inside. And there are no windows so I can't even see it."

"Wow. Ok. Well....damn babe. Your cube is your ego. I guess yours is dark and small. Maybe you have low self worth, or just that you aren't egomaniacal. And it's opaque and black...." he went on to talk about when he first met me and how I'm slow to open up... While he was talking I thought about my cube. Through the exercise it was either like a black ipod shaped like a cube, shiny plastic and high tech looking, or a very dense, almost luminous perfect cube of obsidion. In either case, valuabe significant objects. I like my cube.

He went on, "It's interesting that it's dark and opaque, you're kind of provate about like, personal stuff." Yeah you could say that. Maybe you shouldn't be trying to break open my cube.

"The flowers are your family and friends." I smiled. There weren't a whole lot but they filled the space alotted and they were beautiful and healthy. He said he ave the same test to a mutual friend. "She had lots of little flowers that covered the whole space. She is quite the social butterfly."

"Now the ladder is your goals and aspirations." Oh. Shit. My stomach turned. "It's interesting that you think the base is unstable, but yeah, you don't seem to have a good sense of what you want so you don't know where to go." There I am halfway up the ladder and it slips out from under me, sending me crashing to the floor. My eyes welled up with tears and I turned my head away. "Oh that's hillarious."

"Now the horse...haha all girls call the horse "he". The horse is your ideal mate." Lump in my throat. "And you said the horse didn't belong in the room!'

"Babe, stop, I don't wanna play anymore."

"Oh are you gonna cry?"

"No"

"Look at me."

"No."

"Oh, and you had the horse eating the flowers? That's crazy, I have never heard anything like that. In fact no one has ever questioned the presence of the horse before!"

"It's not my fault, you confnused me! A horse could eat flowers!"

"Well you did say the horse wanted to get out," he said, laughing.

"A horse does not belong indoors! You tricked me into making a room, you did not say, picture a space that would accomodate a fucking horse! When you told me about the room all I knew was that Iwas gonna have to put a cube in it!"

"Babe relax, you said your horse was happy. Don't worry about it. You wanna hear about the storm?"

"No!"

"Sure you do, don't be so dramatic, you gonna cry or something?" The tears are coming now full force. "Oh shit you are crying. Babe don't take it so seriously, I don't know what I'm talking about."

"I know but I do."

"Well, the storm is your problems, and yours are prefectly normal and managable, they aren't a big deal for you!"

"They aren't a big deal because I've trapped myself in a room with no windows with tulips and a ladder and a confused horse so I can ignore my problems! Not better!'

I'm sobbing. On the metro. About retarded metaphores.

"Babe are you really crying?"

"Yes! What is wrong with you? You seriously do this to other people? Are you totally fucking sick? Do you like to needle at people's insecurities until they totally fall apart? You think that's funny or something?"

"Babe I was just teasing you!"

"You can tease me about liking reality tv and gingerbread lattes. You cannot tease me about having no self worth, ann unstable sense of myself that prevents me from accomplishing anything, for being incapable of being loved, for isolating myself rather than deal with problems. How is that funny? What is wrong with you?!"

"It's just a stupid game"

"I wouldn't be upset if it wasn't hitting a nerve?" Now I'm panicing. Everything I'm worried about is now right on the surface, I have to look at it and he can see it too. And I'm crying, and he's seeing me cry, about something so trivial. He knows I'm batshit crazy.

Hmm maybe I should be more careful with this whole "letting myself be vulnerable" thing.