Will over at DesignerBlog has tagged me with a meme, which turns out to be a good thing since I'd otherwise have nothing to write about. Last weekend was pleasant enough, but I spent much of Saturday cleaning the house and doing the preparation for having friends for brunch on Sunday. Sunday morning I was due to introduce a new friend to the Wonderful World of Bondage, but he (not unexpectedly) flaked, and I used the time to make more food. Then there were ten of us for brunch (lots of fun, good food), but my sinuses started to rebel, so afterwards I took a nap to try to recover and never quite got back up. I spent most of Memorial Day itself in the office, getting caught up. This appears to have been a miscalculation, since the sinus problems are most likely attributable to the dust from the construction here. They're now feeling a bit like they've been flushed with lye. Apparently, even though I'm one of the world's worst cocksuckers, I can't have sex with my sinuses clogged and inflamed. Even Friday morning, when I woke up with truly impressive wood and a very willing partner, the thought of sex made at least four of my sinuses throb. This is disconcerting, especially seeing how b&c has just left the country for four more weeks, but if I try to look at it from an out-of-body perspective, I find it mildly fascinating to be simultaneously horny and wholly uninterested in sex. Besides, like everything else, it's temporary.
[Update. I was taking the kids over to their mother's earlier today, and the car skidded and wound up in a ditch. Not my fault, for once. I had to call AAA for a tow, but I did end up with the very cute police officer's telephone number. He says it's his official number and it's in case the car's worse than it looks and I need to make a report to my insurance company, but we all know what he's really after.]
Anyway. The meme. Will asks me to:
* List 5 reasons why you blog about the things you blog on your blog.
* Choose your 5 tag ‘victims’ and tag them nicely
* Write a comment on their blog letting them know that you tagged them. Voila!
I'm going to pretend that I believe in and don't approve of the culture of victomhood that the right wing is always yammering on about and, consequently, I'm going to have to skip parts two and three of the meme.
As for the five reasons, well, why I blog mostly comes down to "it's fun" and "I like to write," which are basically the same thing. Since there aren't five different things that I write about, I'm just going to ramble on for a bit about why I blog and pretend that I've met the memetic requirements. I'm sure Will won't mind: he's very gracious.
I write about sex because I love sex and because I don't think that enough people write about it honestly and thoughtfully. I know plenty of people who say that sex isn't central to their lives, but in most cases I don't believe them. I think that almost everything we do, say, or think is in some way directed at or influenced by sexual desire. Not being able to talk openly about something so important is like trying to shut the twelve-ton elephant in your glove compartment.
I learned first hand what it takes and what it costs to deny a large part of your sexual life. I lived a fully heterosexual lifestyle for many years by lying to myself, and it's not an exaggeration to say that it almost killed me. (On the other hand, I did get two kids out of the bargain, so I'm inclined to call it an even trade.) Many people in our society are doing the same thing, and our society collectively poisons itself by not acknowledging and accepting the tremendous importance and breathtaking variety of our sexual desires and experiences.
I'm not setting myself up as some sort of missionary here. You will never see me write (unless I'm joking) "if I can convince just one hot man that being tied to the bed (preferably my own) is affirming rather than wicked, I will not have blogged in vain." I don't really have much desire to influence anyone else's actions, and I certainly don't labor under the delusion that I have that ability. I am, however, firm in my belief that if everyone was as forthright and honest about his sexual practices as I am (there's very little, if anything, that I write here that I haven't said or wouldn't say to one or more of my friends), we'd all be ten times happier, both individually and collectively. And for all that I eschew introspection, describing and evaluating my sexual experience illuminates a fundamental aspect of my psyche that was for too long unexamined.
Besides: it's fun. And I like to write.
Now if you'll excuse me, there's a muscle relaxer with my name on it. Apparently, driving into ditches isn't as easy on my body as it was ten years ago.
3 years ago