Saturday, March 06, 2004
Went to see [i]Starsky & Hutch[/i] with Carter last night. Enjoyable enough, with a couple guaranteed-funny guys in Stiller and Wilson, but not quite their best work together - although, granted, Zoolander, The Royal Tenenbaums, and "Heat Vision And Jack" are hard to beat. Pretty funny, though.
Carter got kind of squirmy during the trailers, muttering how seeing stuff like Soul Plane and White Chicks being marketed to him made him dislike being a young black man. Can't say I blame him; the trailer for White Chicks makes me embarassed to be a person who likes movies and occasionally defends them as an art form as opposed to mere disposable entertainment. I won't even get into the guys pretending to be women angle.
We didn't go back to his place afterward - Carter has evidently started keeping track of my period on his PDA. In a way, I wish I'd thought of that back when I way a guy and had girlfriends, but I'd like to think I would have not mentioned I was doing it. It just doesn't seem right to be so matter-of-fact about finding part of someone who loves you gross. I mean, I've made my peace with my period, and he's not the one who has to do something about absorbing internal bleeding every month.
So, I went home and took a nice long bath, and decided to lay off the internet for a night. A lot of the time, I don't write in this journal until late because I'm spending the evening searching for information that may be relevant. It's ironic that this brain actually seems to be better at research than my original one - I hated writing papers in high school and college; sorting actual useful information was not my strong suit - but not enough that I actually enjoy it or am much good at it.
It's still kind of weird looking in the mirror naked, though. Even after seven and a half months, I still half-respond to visuals as a man. Printed stills, mostly, which is why the mirror's weird. Stand still, and it's like a poster of this hot, busty blonde. Move, though, and suddenly it's me. That can really mess with your head, especially if you're all keyed up, expecting to spend the night with someone and don't.
Ah, well. Nothing a hot bath and some practiced hands couldn't handle.
Thursday, March 04, 2004
Oh yeah, oh yecccch
It is mere minutes until the first Red Sox spring training game, which will be broadcast locally on UPN38, displacing whatever crap UPN would otherwise be showing. Yeah, it's only spring training, and several players won't be playing, and the pitchers will likely be yanked after their first out... but it's professional baseball, being called by Sean McDonough and Jerry Remy, and it makes the world seem better.
And, hey, it's good to feel good after last night. I spent it at Carter's, and, well, I probably shouldn't write this on a public forum like this, but what the hell. I'm clearly beyond being embarassed or giving a damn what people write in the comments section.
Anyway, we'd gone out dancing, which was fun. First time I've done it as a blonde, but the blondes apparently don't have that much more fun. Maybe in a couple months when I can pull the outfits with the cleavage out of the closet. Of course, it might have been different if Carter didn't have a hand on me at just about all times. I'm not complaining about that, since it's cool to be with someone, and quite frankly, the physical contact was a pretty good turn-on. Between that, two or three drinks, and... um, well, it's not quite a full moon yet, but I was pretty much all over him. We took a taxi back to his apartment, doing the whole sucking-face-on-the-elevator thing, him carrying me into the apartment because I had my legs wrapped around him.
I must have had more alcohol than I thought, because when we got to the bedroom, I didn't immediately leave the room when he suggested oral. As you might imagine, I'm more averse to that than most girls to the idea. But, hey, I was drinking and that can't be the whole thing, but there are times when he can talk me into things, so after about fifteen minutes of foreplay I gave in.
Well, almost. I think my mouth was about six inches away when I barfed. That, I'm sure wasn't all beer-related. Still, I think that might be the most embarrassing sex-related event in either of our lives. Certainly put the kibosh on the evening, even after we showered off together.
Still, it was only a little weird at work. We're still on for movies the rest of the weekend, and we're already laughing about it.
Wednesday, March 03, 2004
You'd think the penguins would learn
I mean, they must see what's happening to their friends, but they keep on lining up.
Anyway, that's my excuse for being up so late tonight. Sooner or later, I'm just going to completely crash at work, making Maureen oh so happy. I just hope it happens after a "seeking information" night, as opposed to a "pelting penguins with snowballs" night.
So, yesterday was the Massachusetts primary. I sat it out; I remember being a registered Libertarian in the old body, but truth be told, I don't know if they/we even have a primary. I'm not sure what party Michelle was registered as before July... actually, now that I think about it, I don't know if she ever even registered to vote in this district. I guess that's something I'll have to take care of before November, assuming everything.
It's discouraging to watch the democratic process in action; the campaign season is too long, so that by the time I would have had a chance to vote, the candidates are already whittled down. Everybody talks about who's most "electable", which is like talking about movies in terms of projected opening weekend box office - it's a stupid thing for the general public to care about. So what if John Kerry is more electable than the other candidates? In order to become electable, he's basically had to remove every last vestige of controversy. Sure, he's got the whole "not George W. Bush" thing going for him, but that's depressingly faint praise. Part of the reason I voted Libertarian in the last election was that neither major party seemed to believe anything, and even if the LP seemed a little extreme in some of their views, they were at least extreme in the general direction I thought was right.
Like, I'm pretty sure whoever the LP candidate is will come out in favor of legalizing gay marriage, because it's right along with the party's ideal of the government not curtailing freedoms unless it's absolutely necessary. Now, this is an issue that last year I probably would have been ambivelent on and basically just gotten sick of hearing about, but having to deal with what initially seemed like deviant sexuality in my own life has, as you might imagine, made me a bit more interested. But, of course, rather than seizing the issue and saying "this is what's right" after Bush came out in favor of ammending the constitution to keep two people who love each other from marrying, the Democrats are mostly trying to speak out of both sides of their mouths. It's depressing to watch, really.
Gads. That's about the most I've talked about politics in years (which would shock some of my high school friends). But, if experiences like the ones I've had didn't make me think about my beliefs, there'd probably be something wrong with me.
Tuesday, March 02, 2004
Does anybody else get an annoying second wind after brushing their teeth?
I don't think this used to happen. At least, I don't remember it happening eight months ago. But it drives me nuts; a couple hours ago, I checked the clock, noticed I'd been using this machine for way too long, and since I was half-asleep anyway, decided to brush my teeth and head for bed. Of course, the actual activity of getting up, walking to the bathroom, and brushing got my blood flowing again, and the minty freshness is just so blasted invigorating, that I no longer was ready to crash. So a little more surfing, a little reading email, and before you know it, it's half past two.
I've got half a mind to write a strongly worded letter to the Crest people. I know, they probably have market research that says people like to get a boost from their toothpaste, but I figure that's crap. I know I should brush my teeth twice a day, but in the morning it's just too close to orange juice, and toothpaste + OJ = nasty.
So, might as well add some more detail to this rough draft of my eventual memoirs. Jen & Carlos throw a pretty good Oscar party. It seems all the parties are at their apartment, but they do have the biggest with no other roommates to get upset. I'm jealous; I may be used to this studio by now, and it's all I can really afford on my own, but I remember what it was like to have a decent-sized apartment with closets that weren't absolutely filled with clothes and could be used for storing other stuff. Kate was kind of demoralized that Return Of The King ran so rampant, since it's the one she hadn't bothered with. I wasn't quite so upset, although there were two awards it had no business being nominated for, much less winning (Best Original Song and Best Editing). Even though I liked the movie, I still don't really like it when one movie so dominates the procedings. There was more good stuff than that, right? And the Oscars are an industry award, meant to promote the film business, and City Of God or Girl With A Pearl Earring could probably have used the push more.
Still, it did lead to an entertaining night watching Kate and Dennis. She groaned every time ROTK won, unable to believe she was losing in the Oscar prediction contest to him. Or that when the scores were tallied up at the end, she, the biggest film fan of the group, came in dead last. That blind spot was a killer. And when Liv Tyler was presenting and kept doing the thing where she was taking the glasses off and putting them on, he told Kate she had to learn to master that.
I think it's got a chance to work out between her and Dennis, though who knows - they've only been going out, what, a couple weeks? They get along, though, and each seem to really enjoy learning about each others' interests. Heck, Kate's reading A Fire Upon The Deep and Dennis keeps writing down movies he had to rent that she mentioned. That's pretty cool. Carter, for his part, is bracing himself for the onslaught of baseball stuff (first televised spring training game on Thursday! Woo!), while I'm trying to get enthused about hockey. Might take an actual trip to the FleetCenter, though.
Sunday, February 29, 2004
Not as adventurous as I thought
I suppose there's a good argument that I'm adventurous for having any sex at all, or any sort of non-platonic relationship, or even just doing anything aside from staying in my apartment and using the internet or otherwise trying to figure out just what happened back in July. It's kind of a little of both - back then, yeah, it really did feel a little exciting to basically live someone else's life, but after a while it just becomes your own. I don't know when that happened for me or why, but I find myself somewhat comfortable. Not really content, but when I met up with Carter yesterday I couldn't help but think that the only thing really objectionable about my life right now is how I came to be part of it. Understand that whoever moved my memories and the bulk of my personality from one body to another is a criminal, and if I ever figure out who it is and can prove it, I want the law to come down hard on them. Is it wrong to like my friends and love my boyfriend while wanting justice for the circumstances that led me to them? I'm not sure.
Anyway, where was I going with this? Ah, being sexually adventurous. I look back at November, and I had a good deal of sex then, but the threesome thing was as unusual as it got. Okay, that's more than a little unusual, but, still, when you get past the fact that there was another girl in the bed that night, my sex life has been busy but not varied. I play it safe; I don't know what a man's unit inside me without a condom feels like. There have been no toys, no oils or foodstuffs, nothing involving pain or humiliation or anything like that. Just your basic "insert tab P into slot V" stuff. That is, until last night when Carter used slot A.
Now, I'd said it was all right, but that was sort of in the middle of while we were, well, doing other related things. Anyway, it was okay, I guess, but not something I feel the need to ever do again. Actually, the more I think of it, the more I wonder what the heck I was thinking. From a "used to be a heterosexual guy" perspective, having something up there just seems wrong, much more so than in my vagina (after all, that's what that opening is for). And I'm trying to get myself back into that frame of mind to answer the question, but how the heck does someone think that sexual relations modeled on an enema is the least bit appealing?
Ah, well. I guess I'll just chalk it up to experimentation and just not do it again.