dimanche, avril 30

this is what sundaes are all about

lying in bed with a cat at your feet, eating almond croissant, drinking cafe au lait, and looking at pictures of freddie ljungberg... there can't be anything bad about a man who looks like that, now can there? seriously - look at those eyes, that intense expression. you can imagine him looking down at you as his dick is just poised at the edge of ramming into you... *fans self*. whoops sorry, had a bit of a moment there. *ahem*. ok. moving on.....

random personal confession of the 'wow i'm delighted' variety: now some of you may recall that when i began taking the anti-sad pills, i was very distressed because they were giving me the anorgasmia. so i started taking wellbutrin in addition to the celexa to try and combat it, but nothing seemed to be working. this was causing me distress 'cause the sex part was never affected by the depression. i always liked doing it and having it and everything about it - it was one of the good things i still had, you know? so then i started with the antisads and all of a sudden i couldn't cum and started to lose interest, even while i was feeling better about life. sick joke, kinda, huh?

so i went back to the doctor for my monthly follow up about a week and a half ago, and she said to me "are you taking the generic brand?" to which i replied, yes, because my medical plan asks you to take generic to cut down on costs, and she said to stop because the only time they've had trouble with anorgasmia and celexa is when people take the generic. so i ditched the balance of my prescription and picked up the name brand and lo and behold, within two days i was back to my regular self - six seconds to take off, multiple heaven. damn. who knew? funny, huh, 'cause they are supposed to be exactly the same drug makeup. buu-uut the side effect of celexa which i am still super worried about is the weight gain - i dance dangerously close to the edge of eating disorder land as it is, so i may just go back to taking non-generic wellbutrin to go along with it (ah drug cocktails. my favourite).

internet dating update, captain's log stardate... erm... today:
  • the mushroom king - i talked to him about it yesterday and there will be no romantic involvement. nice guy, so friends is a possibility, but i think that he needs to figure out what he wants fro a girl - a companion or a personal assistant. i like helping people out, so there is always the risk that i will be taken advantage of. he was almost there.
  • punk rock boy - hm this one.... is sticking in my head. we'll see. i don't want to jinx it by talking to much about it.
  • the electrician - still around. still cute. i haven't seen him in a week, but i talk to him pretty much daily. not sure what's gonna happen. he said to me this morning "i wanna tap that ass". it's very early on a sunday to hear such things via the ehm-ess-ehn. we'll see.
  • rockstar 25 - (ridley gave him the nickname. i like it better than the one i had). he's damn fucking hot. rawr. nuff said.
  • nikki - he's new. i just talked to him last night. he's *covered* in tattoos.he's 37. he's kinda kinky. he's looking for a relationship. he was worried that (when he put on his webcam to talk to me) i'd be disappointed that he doesn't look like his rockstar pictures. i said he looks like he would every day so that was better, in my book. i showed him my silly emoticons. he laughed out loud (best thing about webcams is that you can see people's reactions. i heart that.) huh. he's kinda in my head too. maybe it's the ink.

ps - ladies you can thank me later.
pps - the multiple heaven has *nothing* to do with the photographs. nothing. i swear. *ahem*. clearly. (backs away from microphone...)
finally - i've been fudging with the pictures so if you looked and it was kinda messed, hit reload. i think i've got it fixed, now.

samedi, avril 29

be firm and sit in silence

oh i haven't disappeared - i've just been enjoying the conversation in the comments for the last post. sometimes when it is going well i don't want to post again 'cause i hate to interrupt.

so feel free to keep talking, if you want, or start something new here. your pick.

oh man i'm so tired. yesterday i took a personal day and it was supposed to be a restful kinda thing, but i ended up running around going to the dentist, going to valoo village with my lil brother, and then went downtown and ended up sitting and drinking gin with ... well let's call him punk rock boy, shall we? i hung out there till mikeb came to get me for the franz ferdinand concert (and was *loaded* by that point, by the way), hung out at the show, then went back to the prb's house and made out with him. he's very cool - not my usual 'cute', but very cool in personality and life experience. and fuck it he's really cute - just not my usual type.

so i came home at 6.30, then at 9am the mushroom man called me to help him drive to hope. he was too hungover to make it on his own. the irony of the fact that i was possibly the most hungover girl in the world this morning did not escape me, let me tell you. so i drove to hope & back, then helped him run some more errands, then came home for a family dinner out, took a bath, and am now nearly comatose.

and, by the way, can still taste gin.


concert review -
now keep in mind that i was very drunk, but my general impression of the show is that i much preferred death cab for cutie to franz ferdinand. which, i think, is interesting, 'cause i was initially worried that their sound wouldn't translate well to such a big arena. they were totally fun though - good for them. i'm looking forward to seeing them again at sasquatch. yeah ok that's not much of a review, but shit i'm the sex & dating girl. if you want music reviews / hockey news, go see ridley. mind you, now that he's dating, he may start giving me a run for my money in that arena. perhaps i should expand my horizons.....

mercredi, avril 26

lay me down in sheets of linen

i got asked last night if i was picky - if the reason i didn't have a guy was not 'cause tom cruise implanted an asshole magnet in my cerebellum, but actually because of *me*.

the cheek.


anyway, this set my big brain a'runnin. what prerequisites does a guy have to meet before i will consider him to be someone i could spend some time with? i mean, everyone has some, but what are mine?

1) he has to turn me on - mentally and physically. i have to feel electrified when i'm in his presence. if you can only do it mentally you'll be a friend. if you can only do it physially, well you'll never go beyond someone i shag.

2) he has to make me laugh. if you can't see the absurdity of the universe and want to share it with me then i don't understand your species. move on.

3) he has to be able to teach me something. i think that everyone is smart at something - math, economics, fishing, hockey whatever. if i can't learn something from you every day then i'll get bored fast.

4) he has to fit into my 'world'. i have to be able to see how he will blend into my everyday - whether or not he has something in common with my friends. i have to be able to know that i can leave him alone at a table in the presence of mikeb, or the sister, or her boyfriend and he'll be able to converse and enjoy himself.

5) he has to meet the approval of three people, in this order of importance: the kiddo, the sister, and mike b.

6) he has to understand that i will almost never invite him back to my house to spend the night (it upsets my dad), and that i will almost never spend the night on a worknight. i have my routine in the morning and it freaks me out to have it interrupted. i will, however, play sleepover most other occasions.

7) he has to be willing to hold my hand in public.

8) he has to understand that there will always be nights that i go dancing and don't come home all night. i'm not out fucking around - i'm having a kickass time with my friends and i need to do it now and again. if he's into doing it with me, then i will probably invite him on occasion, but sometimes i'll want it to be just me.

i think that those are the big ones. they're not major hoops to jump through, i don't think. are they unreasonable? do you have dealbreakers with the opposite sex? what are they?

mardi, avril 25

hot sticky scenes you know what i mean

ok so i had an interesting offer this weekend.

there's a guy who does erotic bdsm photography out of victoria - like award winning black and whites, really beautiful shots. he asked me if i'd pose for him. he likes the idea of transposing the softness of me with the hard edge of his motif. i'm seriously tempted. i mean, it's not something i could ever show my parents, but it'd sure be a neat experience. ha neat. i bet you never thought you'd ever hear the word 'neat' to describe bondage photography, huh?

so what's new on the dating front? well last night i met a musician. he's pretty young - like 25 - but seems way laid back, plays tool-esque metal, and has fucking HOT tattoos, as well. nothing wrong with that, in my book. i do heart the ink. 25 might be a little young for me though - mind you, i talked to him on the phone for over an hour last night, and he seems pretty mature (though has a rabid love of the edmonton oilers, which i can't quite fathom. i'm sure he'll grow out of it. *ahem* ridley.)

anyhoooooo... i should do some work. i'm really tired and i'm afraid i'm burning out. i need a holiday, and i need some happy things to happen to me - i need to be showered with attention or pampered or something for a little while. i'm stretching myself too thin and giving too much to too many people who just want to take and take but not give anything back and i'm not sure how long i can keep doing it, you know?

le sigh.

dimanche, avril 23

when i raise my trigger finger all you f***ers hit the deck

dating update. captain's log. stardate whatever today is.

ok so i met this guy - talked to him on the phone a couple of times, via msn, all that good stuff. he's super cute - has a really dry sense of humour, total deadpan delivery, seems smart. i decided to try a different approach - when i went out for tea/a walk with him the first time, i totally dressed down - like jeans, a shirt, converse sneakers. same thing when i went out with him friday night - just basic clothes. like i went out of my way to NOT be sexy. no talking about sex, no referring to sex even obliquely.

he told me he had a theory of thirty - that is, if you meet thirty people, 25 you will never want to see again; 2 you will want for friends; two you will want to sleep with - one you will, one you won't bother; and one is the one you will want to pursue a 'relationship' with. he said you can tell this almost immediately after meeting someone. so, given my experiences, of late, at the end of our second date, i asked him which one he thought i was. he told me i was a #2. i sighed and said that's what i figured. he asked why? so i told him that's how everyone sees me. i told him how i'd even purposefully *tried* to be not sexy when i met him and talked to him. he laughed at me and said that it wasn't possible for me to not be sexy - he said it's just who i am.

le sigh.

ok it's fucking beautiful out. i'm going to get my bikini, my novel, my deck chair and hit the back yard. i have a well deserved date with myself and mister sunshine.


vendredi, avril 21

rally round the family pocket full of shells

so i don't think i've ever talked much about my little brother. he's nine years younger than i am, and is as different from me as night and day. but at the same time he's more like me than my sister or either of my parents. he loves books and words and reading and writing. when he was going into grade 11, he was trying to pick the courses to determine his career path. my folk were pushing him into computer science, but he hated math - it made him miserable, the same way it did to me. so i sat down with him and said 'why not try english? you love writing, and you are really good at it. you want to pick something that is going to make you happy - not something that you are going to hate, otherwise you are just setting yourself up to fail.' so he did. he went to uvic and did his ba, then transferred up to unbc to work with my former supervisor for his ma. during his final high school years and the first couple of years of his ba i went over his papers with a fine toothed comb giving advice and fixing grammar. after that he didn't need me anymore.

he'd gained a lot of weight during university. he's never really been a small kid - e even when he was a baby he was really solid. i remember laughing at the dimples in his knees. anyway, in the last few years it's really gotten out of hand. his weight was up around 250, and that is way too much for a guy of 5'10". in september he decided to do something about it, (i think that my dad had a quiet word with him 'cause it was pretty clear that he was jeapordizing his health) and he joined weight watchers. he's lost over seventy pounds - you would never even recognize him as the same person. it's unbelievable.

yesterday, he defended his master's thesis. his external examiner said that he'd never seen a more thorough defense. he passed with no revisions, which is quite extraordinary. his supervisor said to my dad that he's only ever seen one writer who was better, and that was me.

i'm so proud of him i could squeal. he's applied across canada to do his PhD and i know he's going to excel in that, too.

so anyway, this is my congratulations to my brother, even though he'll probably never see it.

i love you, shmoo. xo

UPDATE: he just got word that he's been accepted to the PhD program at the University of Western Ontario!!!

mercredi, avril 19

dance like the queen of the eyesores

OK here are my picks for the first round:

Western Conference
San Jose
Eastern Conference

now, ideally, i'd like to see an Ottawa / Calgary final, but the chances of that happening are slim. still, a girl can dream huh?

check out my faux-black eye in that photo. i dunno if it's a trick of the light, or if i really was walking around with circles that big, or what, but hey, there it is.

sadly, now that the chef is gone, i don't get to see the black crowes. on the plus side, i have a spare ticket to see the constantines. i should run some kind of contest - a date with raspberry. may 25. any takers?

mardi, avril 18

cause the sex is so much better when you're mad at me

what the fuck is up with the apathetic lethargy plaguing my psyche? eat sleep work drink puke i can't even keep the hours straight. what day is today? who am i?

more importantly, who are you and why haven't you bought me a drink yet? yeah you - i see you there, leaning against the wall, watching the dancers. you think i can't tell that it's me you're really tracking with your eyes, following my movements across the bar. i can feel you touch me in your mind as you send your thoughts towards me, slipping under my clothes caressing my skin with their shivers. some would think it's just the bass, just the music pounding pounding against the people and the night, but i know better.

lundi, avril 17

hello, timebomb

So hear I am doing the ms word ‘blog from work’ thing, alt-tabbing between this window and my email, trying to look productive even though I’m not, really, at this point in time. I’m not sure why I’ve been so quiet lately – perhaps I’m just processing my environment – taking a neutral stance regarding my existence, rather than interacting with the world.

I’ve decided that if I were to be laid off in the next little while, I’d be ok with it. I’d take my severance, collect e.i, and lie on the beach for the summer. You know, maybe pick up a part time job at a coffee shop or bookstore for some extra spending money, but mostly just relax. I can think of worse ways to live, that’s for sure. But I don’t expect to be laid off, and I really hope I won’t. I like my job and my boss is incredible – I’m really lucky.

Internet dating update – so I’ve been chatting with this guy who is really great: super nice, friendly, funny. We’ve been talking for a couple of weeks, now, and I just made it out to meet him in person yesterday. I am absolutely NOT attracted to him. Like nothing – zip, zero. He kissed me on the cheek to say goodbye and it scared the shit out of me. What do I do? MikeB says I don’t have to do anything, at this point, but I don’t want to lead him on and then shoot him down.

Le sigh.

Anyhoo… not too much else is going on in the whole love life arena. I think that I’m a little wary, right now. Plus, it’s almost summer – it’s too hot to sleep with someone during the summer anyway. Right? Right. Just agree with me – you know I’m right.

I actually had a really good weekend – more shoe shopping, brunching, dancing, drinking, movie watching, lying about-ing, room tidying… yesterday I was a bit of an e-tard, so I really wasn’t all that productive, other than buying cat food. Wow – really stepping out huh? I’d still way rather have an e-over than a hangover, though. At least that way you don’t feel pukey, just tired and kind of cabbaged.

Well I guess I’d best do some work, or else I’ll be tanning with Ciavarro all summer…

samedi, avril 15

day, have i the guts to greet you

did i tell you about the E-piphany i had last week? i was dancing up at the front by the stage and turned around to look into the crowd. the chef caught my eye. i wandered back through the crowd to see him and, as i stood a little way away from him, it struck me how he looked exactly (not so much in appearance as in the way he moved and the expression on his face) as my crazy exboyfriend. scared the shit out of me. also, it made me think about the stuff he'd been saying; the stuff about feeling so excited to have met me etc etc. i wondered if it was genuine or if it had been a line - the whole time he was saying them i couldn't escape the thought that he was feeding me a line - that he was too good to be true.

so, as is my usual modus operandii, i asked him. this was his response:
thoes feelings were genuine, but they went away. And the reality, which sucks to say and hear, is that it's just not going to happen with us. I had a great time being compleately unleased, and you are fun. However, do you think that we really know anything real about each other?
You'll find great sex with some dude and i wont be so prominant in your mind.
When you stop seeing anyone it sucks.
But we are not seeing each other any more.
Go on dates, hang out with your family, if you see me say hello.
the spelling errors are his, not mine by the way.

and blah blah blah spare me the gospel according to those who know better, ok? i'm just thinking out loud at this point and don't want to hear how i'm a whore and therefore deserve every unhappiness which is visited upon me.

these last couple weeks have been fuct. work's been AWFUL, some of my good friends are going through some amazingly rough times so i'm trying to be supportive, boys suck... i think i'm going to go back to being raspberry bronte and staying at home by myself. well after tonight, anyway 'cause i'm going to see lee burridge downtown.

omg my friend just sent me mj and bartsimpson singing 'happy birthday lisa' - he said it's not my birthday but it's all true anyway. i'm gonna cry.

vendredi, avril 14

and true love waits in haunted attics

i'm doing the puke up every thing i eat thing again. this time i can't blame allergies - it's 100% stress. silverlining - i can eat pretty much anything i want 'cause i know i'm gonna toss it anyhoo.

trust me to find the upside in every situation.

i have purchased four pair of shoes in two days. these things make me happy. today it was some super fucking cool chuck taylors. ok i can't really afford to buy four pair of shoes in two days but i get this sick satisfaction from it, and from looking at my ever dwindling bank balance, and poking at my self-loathing because of it.

self destructive much?
hey there sidewalk dilletante, arms swinging wildly in your strung out quest for truth. it's just you and me and the taxis, tonight, stealing through the street-lit birdsongs. where are we all going? who's calling your name in the distance, sirens singing leading you onto the rocks, through the alleys, behind the buildings, under the lanes. we're heading towards the lightning sky silver haze glowing behind the stars and the trees. our eyes cast onward toward... what?

this is no gentleman's blues - set down here inside love and longing, a slipshod purgatory. my wings are clipped. my heart is gone. your sixth sense incense drowns the sounds of my belief - i am pilloried by your intent. i am impotent in your apathy.

jeudi, avril 13

the fools got the hyacinth blues

yesterday was a Very Bad Day at work. but that's all i'll say about that, other than to let you know that i indulged in some self medication (vodka) and some retail therapy (shoes, purse, new bra). i think i will probably need to do some more today, but that's a-ok with me, i gotta tell you.

i talked to the chef last night. i deleted his contact from my msn the other day - i didn't block him but i took him out of my list so that i couldn't see him and be tempted. i do have a strange fascination with unavailable men, and i don't want to set myself up to be hurt, you know (look at me, grownin' up & all). so anyway, i talked to him last night for a bit - he messaged me as i logged in to see how i was feeling. he doesn't want a regular thing, and i don't want to be a play toy, i don't think. we do really love spending time with each other, though, so i guess we'll see where the friendship side of things takes us.

anyway, i think i have a date with a bottle of wine and a stack of dvds for the evening, so i imagine i'll writing here again. oh, and aaron over at seo buzzbox" interviewed me last week. go take a peek if you are interested....

mardi, avril 11

whatever i choose it amounts to the same - absolutely nothing

by opening this forum for comments i do invite open and honest discussion. however i neither enjoy nor tolerate hurtful criticisms of my character or the people who come here to read and comment and otherwise. i put my email address up for all to see - if you have something to say or if you are interested in actually getting to know me, and how much of this is true and how much is a product of my creativity, then feel free to use it. lots of people have. i'm a sporadic correspondant, but i'm an interesting one.

i started putting pictures of myself up on my two year anniversary - it was my way of coming out of the closet, so to speak. the subject matter of them is what it is because that's an avenue i have always wanted to explore - i did some extensive study into the erotic postcards done by man ray in the early twentieth centure, as well as the pinup photos of the forties and fifties - i'm fascinated by the way they manage to be dirty yet ... art, for lack of a better word.. at the same time. sometimes i manage to achieve this, sometimes not, but i'm an amateur, after all.

i'm totally grateful that people stop by here and enjoy what i write and take the time to comment. however, i have really tried to keep this journal exactly that - a journal. sometimes it's better than others, just like anything, but the point is that i write what i'm in the mood to write when i feel like writing it. i don't pander to the boys who say i'm hot - if i did i would only put up naked pictures and i would only write about sex. but i don't. i really like the intellectual side to the sparring - it's one of the things i've missed since i left school. what i don't like is when people make it personal. and maybe it *is* me who takes it personally, but at times i think folks forget that there *is* a part of me in what is written here. i can't be totally objective because it *is* my journal and i *do* put a lot of thought into the stuff that is posted here. well, most of the time, anyway.

so i think we are done with this topic - or i am anyway. it's time to move on to something different 'cause we are all interesting people and we all have interesting things to say and interesting things we want to talk about. so open forum - give us a topic. it can be anything BUT what we've been dwelling on, and we'll see where we can go.

dimanche, avril 9

a shyness that is criminally vulgar

ok so i went to bed at 9am this morning. i woke up at 3.30 and am now just killing time till it's bedtime again. wow i have no thought processes at ALL today.

the divine ms u and i went to see miguel migs at the station last night. now the station is a cool LOOKING space, but the acoustics suck. the last time we saw him was at the red room and it was so much better - more intimate, better sound. but whatevs.

that whole seo buzzbox thing just keeps going. it's totally got a life of its own, now. people are chiming up with their opinions and everybody thinks that they've got the definitive answer on what is right for everyone else.

for example, mrs loquacious wrote: "Feminism and empowering the female gender are NOT about using our sexuality to gain attention or respect or equality. Feminism is about using everything *but* our sexuality to gain these things."

to me feminism has always been about the right to choose how you represent yourself to the world. the whole point is that women should not have to be dictated to by men OR other women regarding their choices, their body image, who they fuck, or what they do. women should have the right to choose whether to be stay at home moms, working moms, or never have kids at all. women should have the right to drink, smoke, vote for whomever they support, or not vote as they see fit. women should have the right to choose to cover themselves from head to foot or to dress in a way that makes them feel sexy and beautiful without fearing censure from men or women.

it really frustrates me when people make easy judgements - like 'women who take pictures of their body are insecure'. you can't possibly make statements like that and expect to be taken seriously. there is a long tradition in art and photography of posing nude, or nearly nude, in poses both erotic and not. i don't think you can make the assumption that every one of those women were insecure and seeking validation from men by using their sexuality to attract attention - positive or otherwise.

feminism is about being empowered to choose what face YOU want to put forward to the world - about choosing to wear a mask or to bear yourself fully. feminism is NOT about other women telling you how you can or can't behave - how is it better to have your freedom taken away by another woman than by a man?

society does sexualize the human body - it's one of our base drives and instincts. to deny this is delusional. however, if you don't want to put pictures of yourself then don't. if you don't want to wear tight pants or a tight tshirt or a sheer skirt on a summer day, then don't. but don't feel that you have the right to make my decisions for me and don't feel that you have the right to make rash character assumptions about me without ever taking the time to get to know me. that's what feminism is to me - the right to choose how to live your life and conduct yourself without fear; to accept people - men and women - and the decisions they make, provided they do not cause harm to anyone else.

anyway that's about as much brain activity as i can foster, at the moment.

samedi, avril 8

speed trials

i'm lying on my bed beside a giant pile of laundry which is patiently waiting to be folded. it periodically looks over its shoulder at me to see what's going on, to see if there will be a wearing, a folding, a feeding, or maybe a walk somewhere in its near future. i'm pretty content here, under the blankets with the computer in my lap, though, so i don't think it's going to happen.

i'm having trouble with my blog. i'm trying to do all the stuff i usually do - write about sex and fun things and fiction and muse about life and love and sweaters and the sweet hereafter, but i can't find much spark. usually i scroll through the blogroll, there, and come up with at least a glimmer of inspiration, but i've been having trouble with that, even, the last little while.

i have these crumpled pieces of paper with half scribbled thoughts and barely formed ideas and none of the words are coherent - none of them flow together. i feel fractured and stretched in too many directions and the letters are running in front of me like fish swimming silver scales reflecting in the sunshine sparkling in the drops of water coming up of the rocks. i can't pull them in can't reel them in.

jeudi, avril 6

turn it up

dear tony;

yesterday after work i went and learned how to skimboard. it was a beautiful day and as i sat on the beach drinking a beer looking at the mountains, i thought how cool it was that i could have (if i didn't have to go to work everyday to be able to afford to live here) gone snowboarding on the mountains and headed straight to the beach in my bikini to skim.

by the time the sun started to set, i was chilly and wet and tired and bruised, but i had the biggest smile on my face and i was buzzing a little from the beer and i felt pretty at peace with the universe. i drove home, keeping the smile in my heart, grabbed the copy of stiff that you sent me, and crawled into the tub.

i waited until yesterday to read it 'cause, well, you know why i waited. i went cover to cover in the tub - bubbles fading, water cooling - and didn't stop till i'd read every word; some of 'em twice. my favourite part was where you said that kurt was waiting for courtney to get there, even though he knew she'd never make it. i loved how he had courtney on one shoe and frances on the other, even in heaven. it added that little bit of bittersweet i needed to make the day absolutely perfect.

you're the best one, ever.

love, raspberry

lundi, avril 3

release me from moral assumption

hey remember that little drama thing going on over at seo buzzbox? well shit's just gotten out of hand... here's the update:

ADAM Web Design
April 2nd, 2006 | 10:31 pm
JD: It’s not a question of self-confidence or lack thereof. It’s a question of a mixed message.

And if you’ve spent any amount of time on an Internet dating site (as I have with some buddies), you’ll see that the comment I made is far more general than it would appear.

I have no problem with a woman being confident with herself physically. Hell, I’m dating one of the hottest chicks on the planet, and both her and I know it.

What I have an issue with is the lack of understanding of said mixed message. If a woman is trying to “be sexy” (and there’s nothing wrong with that, by the way), that means she is trying to attract, allure, and generally draw the interest of someone else. Usually, that’s a man (although it can be a chick or in oddball cases, “miscellaneous” as well.)

Side note: same thing goes for men, but in reverse.

Anyway, I digress. I can’t count the number of times I’ve heard “why do men just want to sleep with me? Why don’t they want to get to know me better?” from some chick in hooker boots whose boobs are popping right through her shirt (assuming she’s even wearing one).

As I said, that’s a mixed message at best. And quite a few guys are going to get confused by it. If you don’t want to be treated like a cheap slut, then don’t wear the uniform.

Or, as David Lee Murphy so eloquently put it in song:

If the fish ain’t bitin’
If the fish ain’t bitin’
Well now don’t go gettin’ shook
Honey take a look
At what kinda bait ya got on the hook.

raspberry seems to understand why Aaron and I made the comments along the lines that we did, based on the comments she made. It’s not about the rack…and yeah, creepy guys are part of the deal.

April 3rd, 2006 | 6:17 am
wow christ you sound like the kind of guy who would have told a girl she deserved to get raped ’cause she was wearing a miniskirt.

a woman’s sexuality is her own. she can dress any way she wants - it’s not her fault if some sleezeball sees a girl in a tight tshirt and thinks that she’s only looking for one thing. that’s his problem, not hers. give your head a shake.

and i reiterate - this is the internet. don’t mistake what you see here for what is really true.

ADAM Web Design
April 3rd, 2006 | 1:47 pm
Thank you for putting words into my mouth, and twisting my comments around to justify your opinion.

I never condoned rape. I never condone anything that isn’t a consenting act between two people. Did I say that? No.

But negative behaviour escalates from other negative behaviour that precipitates it. If I call you an asshole, you might punch me in the mouth.

Should you have punched me in the mouth? No. But I did something to cause it. If I keep my mouth shut, the chain of events never gets started.

And if you’re going to show off your tits (covered or otherwise), people are going to comment. Men are pigs. That’s what we do. It’s not right or correct, but it’s something we do.

You don’t want it to happen? Don’t wear shit that accentuates them.

In other words, don’t complain about behaviour if you’re not doing anything to stop it. Clearly, you’re not…on the Internet or otherwise.

And don’t spout that same line of crap about how you’re different offline. You want attention. Period. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t keep on going on that you don’t, and you damn sure wouldn’t have pics of your cans everywhere.

April 3rd, 2006 | 4:12 pm
no man you can’t make that value judgement about me ’cause you don’t know me. how i behave on line and off line are completely and utterly different.

it was, and still is, on occasion, extremely common for rape cases to get thrown out of court because the defence put the victim’s sexuality or appearance on trial instead of the stupid ass who did the deed.

that outdated misogynistic bullshit line of thinking which insists that ‘men are pigs, deal with it’ is the same one that forces islamic women to wear the burkha - that women are culpable for a man’s inability to control his sexual urges.

fuck that shit. if i want to show my tits i can. i have great tits. i accept that guys are going to make lewd comments, and i don’t frankly care. if you’d bothered to read the post i wrote which inspired this whole conversation thread you would understand that it is part of a larger narrative that i have been constructing since 2003. my blog is based on the idea that (to quote timothy findley) ‘everything in here is true, except for the lies’.

and when you go home to the ‘hottest woman in the world’ make sure that you let her know that if she wears something sexy out and something bad happens you won’t sympathize ’cause well shit, every action has a reaction so she must have been asking for it.

ok i may have gotten a little hot and bothered, there, but seriously - comparing getting punched for calling someone an asshole and getting called a slut for wearing provocative clothing doesn't seem to have much validity, you know?

not to mention the fact that his 'men are pigs, deal with it' attitude is so 1957 it hurts me inside. why should men be allowed to engage in any behaviour they wish and women be forced to mitigate our own freedoms to accomodate them? the 'it's in our nature' justification went out with beehive hairdos and freshening your makeup in order to greet your husband at the door when he comes home from his hard day at work, martini in hand, dinner in the oven, smile on your face and 2.4 mewling brats tugging at your hem. i just don't get some people.

dimanche, avril 2

when i think of you i touch myself

i was in his apartment for three minutes before i was on my belly on the bed, corset tight around me, hands cuffed behind my back. he tugged at the strings - 'this can stay on for now, but it's gonna come off later. i need to feel your belly against me. i want complete access to your body. this stops me from sucking scratching biting owning you.' he leaned back, cock still buried deep inside me, and slapped my ass, sending tremors all the way up my body. 'did you miss me this week? did you miss getting fucked?' i moaned into the pillow. 'say it.' i missed you. i missed it

burn like a beacon fire

adventures in dating with raspberry - stardate 4/1/06

ok so two dates in one day - i went from one directly to the other. how samantha jones is that? mind you i didn't actually sleep with either of them, so i guess not very.

date 1) very cute. 11 months younger that me. falls within the height preference. has tim robbins eyes, kinda. great body. huge tattoo on his shoulder. didn't wear underwear 'cause it told him i'd make him prove it. gives wicked whole-body hugs. has a darkly cynical sense of humour which i adore. is an engineer doing account management. so originally he was going to come out to me to hang out yesterday afternoon (bonus points for being willing to drive to the stix), but since i had to go on date #2 i met him downtown for a few afternoon drinks and a snack. he's really funny - spent half the date detailing the head injuries he suffered as a kid, which gave me amazing ammunition for taking the piss for the second half. at first when he came in i thought, yeah this guy is cute but i'm not sure i could get into him, but then he started talking and was super funny so i got a crush 'cause when (note to male readers - i'm about to give up a state secret,here) women say that a sense of humour is one of the first things we look for in a guy we are actually serious. the funnybone is a very underrated erogenous zone. i hung out with him for a couple of hours, then he walked me back to my car even though his truck was closer and it was pouring rain (more bonus points) and gave me this wicked hug that went from my knees all the way up to my cheekbones - he actually pressed his face up against mine - more points for good hugging. then he gave me two little kisses on the lips (the kind that tells you he wishes he could do more) and said he was going to see me again (more points for taking charge and knowing what he wants). so i got into my car and was fiddling with the stereo when i heard a knock on my window. i open the door and he undoes the top of his jeans and illustrates that he was, indeed, going commando (not that way you dirty birds) - points for having a much better short term memory that me.

date 2) slightly older than me. is in I.T. has a nice suv. super nice and interesting. likes girly martinis. lives in port moody ok so i was late for date 2. like 20 min late. but it's not my fault! i was late 'cause i was early! yes i acknowledge that sounds stupid. let me explain. i got to where i was supposed to meet #2 like 25 min early. i thought about maybe sitting in my car and reading my book but there was a winners right there. so i thought to my self, 'self, we should go see if we can find some hot undies for when we go fuck the chef tomorrow (more on that later)'. so i got into winners and got distracted by the giant rack of $1.99 low-rider thongs (can never have too many, you know) and trying to find a bra to match the bright pink shorty shorts ($3.99 - i heart winners), when all of a sudden it was 5 to six and i needed to be back across the street in five min. so, boatloads of undies in hand, i rush up to the cash register to discover that there are three people working and lineups approximately 40 deep. ok so i text message an imminent arrival, and wait my turn (foot tap foot tap foot tap). finally get to my car, rush over to the restaurant and CANNOT find parking to save my life. i circled like a shark at a barbeque but NOTHING. so i go to the hotel nearby and opt for paying to park. oh wait - what's this? the meter is broken and i have to go to the front desk? of COURSE. front desk - clerk asks 'are you eating in the restaurant?' 'YES' i say (she didn't specify which restaurant). she gives me a free parking pass. i put it in my car and run. anyway, that's pretty much it - i left early 'cause i was getting really tired and didn't want to get all run down. he's a really great guy but not my type. i think he's cool though - i'd like to keep in touch with him just 'cause i enjoy his company but i dunno how receptive he'd be to that.

today, i am going to hang out with (and by hang out with i mean get fucked rotten by) the chef. i'm bringing slutty undies, a bottle of wine, and stuff for an indoor picnic. i seriously can't wait.

i have a date for tuesday and a tentative date for wednesday. saturday is miguel migs and the chef will be there. it's shaping up to be an interesting week....

samedi, avril 1

if you like makin' love at midnight in the dunes of the cape

first things first: today's food for thought courtesy of soren kierkegaard: "People demand freedom of speech as a compensation for the freedom of thought which they seldom use."

shit that's a little deep for a weekend, isn't it? ok let's lighten the mood. Oscar Wilde: "illusion is the first of all pleasures".

now there's a theme for the weekend.

ok so i've decided to shag the chef for the sheer joy of it until i find someone who *wants* to be my boyfriend and delivers the other shit that i'm looking for - that is, appreciates my million-dollar brain, my sunshiney sweetness, my party girl get up and go, and my drop down fuck you till you crumble dirty girl side. 'cause he is all that stuff, he just isn't into relationships. but man-o-man i haven't met someone with whom i've had this much sexual chemistry with since... well honestly it's been years. like you know when you are sitting across from someone and the magnetic energy between you is so strong that you have to physically restrain yourself from touching them? yeah that kind. plus i've never really *dated* anyone - i've had boyfriends, and i've had fuckbuddies, but never really anything in between. so i'm kinda interested in the prospects.

but i've also decided to unleash the ray of light that's inside me and date as many guys as i can for a bit. i'm never going to find anything that makes me happy by sitting at home pissing and moaning about it. this should, if nothing else, make for super interesting blog-fodder.

we'll call it a social experiment which i am conducting for the betterment of... well maybe not betterment of but at least enjoyment of... people who pop by here. i'm only doing it for you. don't ever say that i didn't love you.


oh man i got so distracted by lurid thoughts of parlaying my exciting and fulfilling (*ahem*) dating adventures into a book deal somehow that i completely forgot to come to the point of my whole story. so lots of the time i end up chatting with people that i have never met in person - just via the innerweb. this is very cool - i enjoy it thoroughly. last night someone drunkenly proposed to me. now is this a binding contract? should i hold out for a ring? i mean, he's never met me - only spoken to me and seen a few photos. can he be held responsible for his decision once he's a) sobered up and b) had to deal with the whirling dervish firestorm of hyperactivity that is raspberry sundae on a daily basis? curious minds want to know...