Wow. So it’s January 28, and I just noticed that the following post – which I thought I’d posted on January 8 – in fact has been sitting in my drafts folder this entire time. I’m truly not sure how that happened, but there it is. I guess the first sentence of that post is even more true than I’d realized… so, um, better late than never?
Grad school applications are eating my brain. Seriously. I don’t know if I’ll have enough of it left to actually do the grad schooling if they accept me. And my intense focus on writing ’em up means I’m also neglecting this poor little blog. The deadline’s coming up quick though, so the situation should improve soon!
In the meantime, I’ve got a bunch of little announcements for ya, followed by a piece *I originally posted on January 19, 2007.
- Someone contacted me looking for poly people to interview on TV, preferably people who have in the past and/or currently had a strong religious affiliation; details at the end of this post. Please pass the word!
- No More Potlucks, Montreal’s premier dyke culture website, has been rebirthed. Check it out here! Looks gorgeous!
- AlterNet just published a very well-written article on feminists who identify as submissive in the BDSM world. Read it here.
- And in a more personal sort of announcement – I’ve been asked to judge the International Ms. Leather contest in San Francisco this coming March. How cool is that? Intriguing, of course, since I’ve been pretty clear (and pretty public) in saying that I don’t want to ever run in the contest. But hey, judging will surely be fun. And if they’re asking, I’m sure they expect – rightly so – that I will bring my own stated priorities to the judging table.
And now, the post.
I have this terrible habit of leaving town for a few days and having tons of brilliant blog post ideas while I have no access to a computer, and then getting back and forgetting them all before I get the chance to write them. I swear, I found the cure for cancer in a hotel in some remote area of the Outaouais with no wireless access, and I forgot it just this afternoon on the way back.
That said, I do remember the way my friend J, who travelled with me and was the source of much fabulous conversation, defined dyke sex in comparison to pseudo-lesbian sex. It has to do with farting.
No, seriously. I know that sounds kinda gross, but she has a point. She was explaining how a lot of (though not all, of course) heterosexual women seem to have sex in ways that are basically about performing for the male gaze first and foremost. Even if that gaze is not actually there, it’s a sort of mode many will slip into during sex – a sort of “being on” where the main idea is to look good and convey the impression of enjoyment, with the true enjoyment coming from the experience of pleasing the actual or assumed watcher.
Dykes, on the other hand, actually fuck. J encapsulated the difference with, “A dyke will let out a fart during or after a good orgasm,” if her digestive system is so inclined of course. And it doesn’t really matter if her hair gets messed up or her boobs fly all over the place – the emphasis is on pleasure.
Y’know, that would go a long way towards explaining why pseudo-lesbian porn is so incredibly boring and silly to actual lesbians, whereas the straight dudes just eat it up. I know, I know, I’ve made this point a dozen times over, up down and sideways, but I guess it just drove it home in a new way. I mean, when do you ever see a porn star fart? Unless you’re buying really specialized stuff, of course.
It would also go a long way towards explaining how weird I’ve felt on the rare but memorable occasions when straight girls have hit on me. I’m always totally taken aback when someone starts the performance with me – casting me, by default, in the role of the male, or I guess male equivalent. It’s a type of flirting that leaves me completely confused. Like – well, it’s intriguing, in some oddly scientific way – but how exactly does she expect me to respond? Am I supposed to buy her drinks and make suggestive comments so she can giggle and blush, and eventually try to make out with her in her doorway so she can push me away and say, “Why don’t you call me sometime,” the understanding being that I’ll have a hard-on straining in my pants, and that I’ll pursue her with wining and dining until she finally gives in and lies back on the bed missionary-style while I screw her without ever trying to find her clit?
I’ve watched the dance a million times, taken part in it even (in the “girl” role) when I was a lot younger and had just begun the journey of figuring out what this sexuality thing was all about. I have no part in it now. I know the steps but the whole performance is flawed, and inevitably leads to the same conclusions every time, where nobody is really satisfied, and then they all chalk it up to genetics. “Men are from Mars, women are from Venus.” My ass. They just need to pick a new piece of music and try a different dance for once.
So of course the idea of entering it from a queer place, from the other side of the equation, is no more appealing. Flattering, perhaps; amusing, the way it’s amusing to play a role that’s completely opposite to your personality for fifteen minutes during theatre class. Erotic? Hardly. I might perhaps see it as intriguing from a political standpoint – usurping the power of the patriarchy or something – except that the political appeal of following in the footsteps of people I believe have got it all backwards is pretty darned limited.
So there it is. Clear as day. I want a woman who will get her hair messy, let her boobs fly all over the place, and fart like a motherfucker anytime she feels the need, whether she’s already had an orgasm (or twelve) or is on the way there. I like women who want to fuck, who fuck, and who enjoy fucking in all its messy glory, rather than women who try to convince me they’re enjoying themselves. Because really, where’s the fun in faking it until you make it? Why not just make it already?
Looking for polyamorous people to interview for New Documentary television series. If you have a religious background of any kind and are involved in polyamorous relationships we would like to speak to you. If you’re worrying about being on camera, we can disguise your identity. This series examines the four major religions and their views on all aspects of sexuality, one of which is polyamory. Please email me if you would like to participate at firstname.lastname@example.org