Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Top Three Signs Your Life Is Not What It Should Be

1. You are lying alone in bed at 1 a.m., listening to your new neighbors who just moved in below you having sex. You hear the woman moaning repeatedly through the floor.

2. Your ridiculously loud air conditioner fan shuts off. You realize the sound is actually your cat snoring through her nose.

3. You turn on the computer and write a blog entry about it.

Sunday, August 27, 2006

Not Happily A Victim Ever After

I've been thinking a lot about fairy tales this past week (Western fairy tales, that is). A lot of little things all converging brought it on. Happening upon the excellent film Finding Neverland on television this past week and watching it again. Reading this post by Susie Bright about this incredibly cool sounding and beautiful looking graphic novel by Melinda Gebbie and Alan Moore called The Lost Girls about the adult erotic lives of Alice (post Wonderland), Wendy (post Neverland), and Dorothy (post Oz). (Aside: Here's what my future husband Neil Gaiman had to say about the book.) And, deciding to re-read one of the favorite novels of my childhood, A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett, where the theme of telling fairy stories to oneself to bear the harsh realities of life figures largely into the story.

Anyway, as some of you may remember from older posts, I've have had a very difficult few years of late. For those of you who aren't long-time readers, or for those who are and who don't tend to read between the lines too much, this year I finally acknowledged a sexual assault that happened to me in my childhood and began working through that, and recognizing all the ways it (as well as other things) has affected my life. To get to that point, though, my life pretty much had to go on a downward trajectory until I was at rock bottom and had nothing left, at which point, if I didn't want to destroy myself, I had no other recourse left but to face up and ask for help. So there was a lot of crash and burn, burn, burn in this very cold hellfire made of dry ice over the course of a number of years. And even this year, as I got help and slowly began pulling myself out of the black pit I'd thrown myself down into, it was a hard, hard struggle. Some days it still is, though, as the man once said, I have to admit, it's getting better.

It's been very difficult for me to even explain to myself what this "lost period" of my life has actually felt like. I really have no words. But as I was watching the end of Finding Neverland (and crying...I dare you to tell me you didn't cry at the end of that film) and thinking about fairy tales it struck me. Hard. I realized that what it felt like was under some sort of dark spell.

I hadn't realized until that moment how for all this time I had been walking around feeling exactly the way I imagined as a child that all those women in the fairy tales who were put under spells would have felt like. Alive, but not really. Breathing, but emotionless. Unable to respond. Where the person I really am--the joyous, animated, creative person full of childlike wonder, curiosity, and good, pure, unadulterated, unashamed love, was put to sleep, and some shadow person was walking around, operating my sleeping body like a puppeteer, sending my cloudy brain and heart just enough of a signal to allow me to vaguely exist, but feel not much of anything. Like Sleeping Beauty, if she were in a zombie coma.

And my next thought was, "I want to break the spell." (You see, though I've been making strides, I don't think it is broken, fully, yet. I've not completely woken up into myself.)

And then the next thought was, "In every fairy tale, there's always only one thing that can break the spell. So what would break your spell, then?"

And all that got me to thinking about the messaging we get as little girls through the fairy tales we're told and watch on film. And why perhaps so many of we little girls (while still girls, or grown) become victims. And why, even after that may happen to us, and we survive, when we want to move forward from that, we keep playing this victim role over and over again, almost despite ourselves.

Little girls are raised on fairy tales. And though there are a few exceptions to this rule, the most famous, most popular Western fairy tales involve a few key ingredients:
  1. The girl is good. She is beautiful. She does everything right, behaves beautifully, is passive and kind and giving, and is in every way the perfect reflection of the "ideal female."
  2. She is acted upon by evil or angry forces. The dark spell is cast (this can include non-magical, cruel imprisonment/enslavement). The reason for the victimization of the girl is never in revenge for something the girl did. It's always for reasons the girl has no control over: anger at the girl's natural beauty and goodness (e.g., Snow White), anger at her family's behavior (e.g. Sleeping Beauty), anger at the fact she just exists (e.g., Cinderella).
  3. She is rescued. Someone breaks the spell and frees her to live happily (ever after). Usually the enchantment is broken by some representative act of love, like a kiss. She is rescued by someone else's acknowledgement of and desire for her perfection.
So, in steps 1 and 2, we have a good vs. evil power play. A pretty classic theme. But note how different it is from male-based good vs. evil fairy tales. In fairy tales where the main protagonist is male, when the evildoer makes his/her presence known, the hero is expected to fight the evil, and overcome it. It's understood that this is what he will ultimately have to do.

Where is this expectation in female-protagonist fairy tales? It just isn't there. From the start it is assumed in a female-centered fairy tale that the good girl is weak. Far too weak to withstand the evil person. She is acted upon, and she falls prey. There is no fight, or even an attempt at one. And it's also interesting to note that in most cases while the spell-casting/enslaving characters are certainly portrayed as "bad," their behavior or motivation is generally not presented as strange or exceptional. The stories seem to imply it stands to reason that the victimizer would hate the beautiful, innocent young girl and want to harm her. And, that it stands to reason that she would simply not have the wherewithal or strength to even think of fighting back.

So she is acted upon to be victimized. But in number 3 above, she is also acted upon to be saved. After the girl has been put under the evil spell, she does not overcome what has been done to her. She remains passive. Sometimes for years. Someone other than herself intervenes and saves her. In most instances, her salvation comes via some demonstration of love by another--a kiss, etc.

So, she is lovely and innocent and good, as all girls are encouraged to be, and she is victimized. For no reason. With no assumption she is allowed to fight back. It stands to reason.

And after this happens, she cannot save herself. She must wait for someone else to save her. She must hope that someone else will find her desirable enough to be worth saving. It stands to reason.

So, taking it into the real world, a girl is good and innocent and she is victimized. As she learns, it stands to reason. And after her victimization, to ensure she'll be saved, she keeps behaving good and lovely and innocent and passive and pleasing, as a girl should, and she waits under her bad spell, for someone to kiss her and save her and take her away, make IT all go away, and make her finally happy ever after.

But we all know what the stories tell us happens to girls who are good and lovely and innocent. Again. And again. And again.

These are the stories we (girls AND boys) are taught as children. They are the first things we learn. And then we wonder why so many innocent people are sexually assaulted. We ask why the victims didn't fight. We ask how the victimizers can think the way they do.

And we, those girls, who were good and innocent and perfect, and who were made to suffer for it...

We, the living dead girls, just barely managing to survive one more day in the dark, blurry world of the spellbound, our shoulders heavy, our breath labored under the shameful weight of the enchantment cast on us by others, for just being ourselves...

We wonder why we keep finding patterns of victimizaiton to fall into, whether big or small.

And we wonder, and we keep walking onward, lids heavy with exhaustion, hoping, hoping, someone will come and break the spell for us. Praying that someone will know the right thing to do. Will want us enough to save us.

And we keep running into someones who look like they've got the answer. And in the end, all they've got is another poisoned apple.

No one ever taught us we were allowed to fight our own fight. No one taught us we were allowed to rescue ourselves.

It's only now that I'm learning this, finally. But I have no model. There isn't one story I know of that can show me how to lift my own spell.

And to all my sisters out there, I'm sorry that there isn't one. I'm sorry no one ever taught us. I'm sorry we have no model to follow.

But I want to say, we can write our own story. A new one. A better one. Where we fight. And we find allies, not saviors. And we work together, and separately, to lift our own spells for ourselves. We become our own saviors. WE stand up and proclaim ourselves lovely and whole and worthy of love, and that is enough to save us. And we seal it with our own fiercely beautiful kiss--to ourselves.

To that good and innocent and beautiful girl who, of her own power, has saved herself and embraced her strength, and walks with no shame, because she deserves none. And who will never be unhappily ever after, ever again.

"Your Silver Shoes will carry you over the desert," replied Glinda. "If you had known their power you could have gone back to your Aunt Em the very first day you came to this country."

--The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

Friday, August 18, 2006

Love is a Backwards God from Hell

Oh. my. god. I...





I heard a tiny clip of it the other day on the season premeire of the fabulous Showtime series Weeds, downloaded it, and now I can't get it out of my head.

I adore songs that sound all melodic and pretty on the surface and then you actually listen and Dirty, filthy, nasty underneath.

The artist is Jenny Owen Youngs. I don't know anything about her, but go Jenny! (And nice schoolgirl costume, too). Buy her stuff and read her very cool little write-up here.

I see there she's from New Jersey. Ha--explains everything. I can pick one of my sisters out of the crowd, no matter what part of the world we cross paths in.

"Singing sweet and drinking hard since 1981." God, I may have to marry this girl.

Update: She's also got another site besides the myspace site here.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Well, O.K. then.

everything i do is judged
and they mostly get it wrong
but oh well
'cuz the bathroom mirror has not budged
and the woman who lives there can tell
the truth from the stuff that they say
and she looks me in the eye
and says would you prefer the easy way
no, well o.k. then
don't cry
Just a little postette to say yeah, I know, I haven't posted in a while. I've been getting some stuff together, literally and figuratively, that's been eating into my time--some of which you'll most likely see or read about at some future point, I'm sure.

Anyway, I'll be back soon; promise. Maybe even tomorrow. For now, I leave you with a little Sylvilistic music/mindset.

Music credit: "joyful girl" by Ani Difranco, from the album Dilate. Buy it.
Photo credit:
Riflessioni introvabili by Z79.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Sugasm #41

Sorry people, I'm a little behind the curve posting Sugasm this week. Some really good reading. Check it out.

This week’s best of the sex blogs by the bloggers who blog them. Want to be in Sugasm #42? Submit a link to your best post of the week using this form.

Oh, and also go to the main Sugasm page to see the new "weekly top three" vote thing they're trying out for next week.

Mr. Sugasm himself
73% of American’s Hate Porn (

NSFW Pics (and a Podcast)
Amanda (
It’s Thursday! Happy HNT! (
Nora Marlo self portraits (
Splish Splash (photos/podcast) (

Thoughts on Sex and Relationships
Does Size Matter? (
Insatiable: How to Date a Nympho (
Oh Kegels, How I Love Thee (
On My Way to Sex Rehab (
Rockin’ – Not Humpin’ – In the Free World (
Straight, Male, Talking About My Sexuality (
Take Naked Pictures of Your Girlfriend (
The thinky and the kinky: qualities of attraction (

Film Fridays 33 - Internet Dating (
The Top 30 Most Annoying Things About Porn (
Why Don’t I Ever See Porn Stars On the Golf Course? (

Sex Work
Crossover Fetish Subs are Twice as Weak (
Dumb Ass white boi! ( )
Smoking Fetish (

Sex News and Sexy Reviews
August Contest - Story Time (
Half-Nekkid and Loving Himself (
Review: The Wolf Summers By ElSol (
Straight Porn Review: Briana Banks… a.k.a. Filthy Whore 3 (

Erotic Writing and Experiences
8/1 by Rex: That Wonderful Ass (
Aerosmith (
Clothing Optional (
The First ‘Threesome’ (
F♥ck Bunny (
Last night (
A Most Proper Text Message (
No Niceties (
Statuesque (
Through the Green Door (
Voyeuristic Dream (
Yes. I Like Girls. (

BDSM and Fetish
The Honeymoon Part I (
Introducing people to rubber kink (
Open Panties (
Pain Slut- A Fantasy (
Webcam Session with an Old Man (

Join the Sugasm

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

The Loneliness of the Long-Distance Blogger

Ned: I want adventure. I want romance.

Bill: Ned, there is no such thing as adventure. There's no such thing as romance. There's only trouble and desire.

Ned: Trouble and desire.
Bill: That's right. And the funny thing is, when you desire something you immediately get into trouble. And when you're in trouble you don't desire anything at all.

Ned: I see.
Bill: It's impossible.
Ned: It's ironic.
Bill: It's a fucking tragedy is what it is, Ned.
I’m really pretty new to this whole blogging thing. I started in January (not counting a very short stint the month before when I was testing the waters before I did it “for real”). So I’ve only been writing as a blogger for 7 months—just over half a year.

Before that, there wasn’t much I knew about blogging. I can honestly say I’d never read a blog before, unless you count aggregator-style blogs like Metafilter or Fark. I’d glanced at a few friends-of-friends’ poorly written LiveJournal pages. That’s it. I didn’t “get” the whole blogging phenomenon.

So it’s still kind of a surprise to me that one day this past winter I suddenly signed up for a Blogspot account and started writing a blog. I’m still not sure what prompted me to do that. And now I find myself wondering just what I wanted from it. What I thought would happen.

I find myself wondering quite a lot these days, and not only about the blog, what it is I really want.

And it kills me to realize that I still just. don’t. know. Which is so entirely frustrating. I have a feeling of what I want. This feeling is set deep in the core of who I am, and I feel it all the time. It manifests as this certain kind of yearning. But I don’t know FOR WHAT. Sehnsucht. I’ve written about it before.

I was talking about it with someone again just today, in fact. You know that feeling you get when you run into a place or a person for the first time and it’s like you already know that place or person? It has a feel, a scent, a something that just clicks in in this very primal way and suddenly you feel, “I know this. I’m home.” This is what I want. But how do you go after something like that? It’s so intangible, so indefinable.

I’m not actually getting off track here. What I’m trying to say is—I don’t know the reason why I started to blog. I don’t know the reason why other bloggers did. But I suspect what I’m describing above may have something to do with it.

In every blog I read, I notice this often unspoken constant. No matter how funny, how erotic, how practical the topic of the blog is, there’s this same feeling, this something underneath that sets off my nerve center in this very instinctual, sensory way.

There is this underlying yearning. A sort of undefined loneliness and want.

I think all bloggers are lonely. By this I don’t mean bloggers are all lonely losers, outcasts, and social misfits (though some of us proudly wear those tags and make them damn cool). Most bloggers I read have (or have had) good friends, family, lovers, etc. We have lives that are often, at least on paper, rich and full and interesting, even if sometimes we hit roadblocks and difficulties.

No, this thread of loneliness that weaves itself for the blog world, it’s something else. It’s more this feeling of unrequited yearning. For some kind of connection we are just not getting. For some kind of reality we just can’t seem to create. Perhaps for others, not just me, we long for what feels right, but we don’t know what right LOOKS like. We don’t know how to get there.

I think many of us hope the blog is a way to get there. To create a world defined by us, by our own thoughts and needs. To see if others get it; get us. To search for and to finally be able to experience the feel of that familiar click into place that we’re just not experiencing in our daily lives, regardless of whether or not all the parts of that life appear to be fitting just fine.

I think this is why bloggers have these love-hate struggles with their blogs. Their blogs, no matter how overt or cleverly disguised, are their want, their yearning made incarnate. The blog is the part of them most needing to be nursed and loved and acknowledged and adored and unconditionally accepted. The stuff they just cain’t get at home, even though they feel (or are told) they “should” be able to.

And so they keep writing and writing…and does it ever click? Do they ever get to clearly define their want, and then have it met? To eradicate their loneliness and need? Does the blog help them get to there, wherever there is? I don’t know. It may just be another temporary panacea.

You know how it goes. The drugs are so good the first time. And so you keep at it, doing it more, pushing your limits. And then eventually, the drugs just don’t work. You can never get back that first high.

Or can you?

I think this is what makes it so hard for people to give up on their blogs. The blog is the last great battlefield of desire and longing. It’s an altered reality, where there’s hope that if you fight the good fight, say the right things, reach and gather the right people, all things can eventually look bright and beautiful, the way you feel them, in the deepest parts of your being, where you’re waiting for them to come true.

Is this unrealistic? Probably.

But man, doesn’t everyone burn bright like stars while they try?

And for this reason, I don’t want them to stop. And I don’t want to stop.

In the true pagan sense of things, it’s the trying that is heroic. No one can predict the outcome of the battle, so whether you win is irrelevant. It’s how bravely, creatively, and honorably you fought, all the way through, until the end.


So, I know it's the age-old question, but... Why do we blog? Why do we read blogs? What's the gain? Why bother?

(photo credit: MacBook by Ricky Romero)

Some Days

You just can’t.

You try, you know. You always try. But.

I’m tired.

And I won’t tell you what this means, ‘cause you already know.

…and you’ll find what you find when you find there’s nothing.

(Music credit: “American English” from Idlewild’s The Remote Part. Buy it.)
(Photo credit: "Abstract Clinging Hands" by Hans Voralberg)

Sunday, August 06, 2006

Quick opinion poll on erotica/porn resources. Your feedback needed!

Hi. I need your help, all you fellow sexy thangs.

Could you please suggest your favorite resources for quality online written erotica and video porn?

I want to use these suggestions for an upcoming post where I am suggesting people search out these resources to help them build their "dirty talk" skills. I have a few favorites, but would like more suggestions for people to pick and choose from, and am a bit too busy of late to do lots of independent research (fun as that would be) to uncover more choices.

If you need a bit more guidance, I'm looking for your suggestions of favorite:

  • Online journals for high-quality written or spoken word erotica (or paper journals, too)
  • Online sources of quality amateur erotic writing
  • Sites that rate/recommend/describe the contents of porn flicks (sort of like porn IMDB sites)
  • Sites that help more mainstream people decide which porn is best for them.
  • Online sites where people can easily access good, quality couples porn (gay or straight) at reasonable prices (or for free--if it's a legal download).
  • Porn films with good verbal interaction between the actors.
  • Bloggers whose erotic writing is top rate, and would give good examples to a neophyte of how to talk dirty.
UPDATE: Thanks for all the comments so far. As far as the porn goes, I wanted to clarify: since I want to use this to give good examples of how to talk dirty, any porn suggestions should be audio/visual (as in video, or straight audio clips). I'm not looking for still photo suggestions.

The more suggestions you can give, the better. My only stipulation is that all suggestions be GOOD examples of erotic expression--nothing super unskilled and amateurish. Thanks, everyone!

Also note. Though honest suggestions from real people are extremely welcome, advertisements are NOT. So just a warning to any commenters who might want to use this as a promotional opportunity for their own for-pay site or blog--don't bother. Such comments will be deleted. Kisses.