Blogging on blogs. Blahhhhg.

Over at Bend There Done That, Allegories in Life is talking about having to tell people she's straight just because she lives in the lesbo paradise that is Eugene, Oregon.

But she also says "Man or woman, it's just never a good idea to develop crushes on those you work closely with each day." OK, that sounds good in practice, but isn't it true that most relationships start in the workplace? We spend so much time there that it's the #1 place to meet people, right?

... Not that any of my workplace relationships have ever ended in anything but disaster, come to think of it ...

Also on BTDT, Write Up Your Alley (That handle has perverse connotations, does it not? Eh? Not? I'm a total perv? Fair. Not the first time I've been accused) takes a stand on the age old question, "Is it OK to post photos of your boyfriend's disgusting underwear on your blog?"

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Gay Marriage is Weird?

A story in the NYT tipped me off to this video, apparently a response to recent same sex marriage victories.



But the online responses are so much better:

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Out of the woodwork

How is it that ex-lovers and former flames know when you're no longer available?

At a bar the other night, I ran into the Captain. More than a year ago, I had met him through a friend. That night, I ended up at his house, on the couch, drunk, while my friend was getting it on with Captain's roommate (they preferred to call it "housemates" because they don't share a room, but finding it important to make that distinction just seems vaguely homophobic to me). At some point, I said I was cold, and he offered to snuggle. Sweet. Then I started in about how I was worried about my new puppy who was home alone in her crate, and he offered to drive me to my house to let her out. I accepted. We chatted while he drove me home, and I impressed him by knowing about Stereolab. When we got to my house, he impressed me by knowing who Frida Kahlo is. He stayed the night. More snuggling, a little making out. In the morning, we exchanged phone numbers.

For the next month, I threw myself at him. At one point I literally climbed into his bed and took my clothes off. Nothing. There was some making out, but I didn't even get laid. He never called me, and I refused to call him. Eventually, I gave up. We ran into each other from time to time over the next year or so, and I pretended I hadn't been totally rejected.

But now that I'm deliriously happy with a hotass new boyfriend (with a sexy accent)?

I ran into Captain at a concert. We chatted, he flirted his ass off. He acknowledged that he'd gained weight, referenced his new "man boobs." He said he'd since given up smoking pot. He had a new job and got to travel. At one point I said something particularly charming, and he smiled and said, "Will you be my girlfriend?"

I laughed.

"Seriously? You had your chance. Too late."

"I know, I really fucked that up. I'm sorry."

"What?"

"Oh, you know."

"No, you can't apologize for something if you're not even willing to admit what it was."

"I'm sorry I blew it with you and didn't ask you to be my girlfriend. I should have."

I was surprised he said it.

"Yeah, you are sorry," I said. "I'm a pretty rad girlfriend."

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The Manwich

The night began with a "really very large" case of beer and a bottle of "really very cheap" gin.

My new Boyfriend had his Best Friend over and we set right into the task at hand: drinking everything in the house. After the usual pleasantries, we talked the usual BS, then turned on the music. What music? Whatever. Drunk people are very bad at making decisions. How much did I have to drink? I have no idea. I didn't care at the time. The beer was gone and the gin was hiding from us and there was MUSIC!

We were all three dancing in the living room and both the Boyfriend and his Best Friend had their shirts off and we were all three doing some lovely grindy-type thing. God Bless... um... whatever saint is in charge of the intoxicated. My Boyfriend was hot, his Best Friend was hotter: I could think that because I was really really drunk!!!! Yippee!! I decided to step out of the Manwich and maybe kinda...watch for a little bit. Yes, Boyfriend kept sexydancing with his Best Friend. Really hot, gay 100% Y Tu Mama Tambien moment right there in the living room. I finally understood WHY guys would want to watch two hot chicks making out at a bar. Young, shirtless... Amen!!! I slipped back into the lovely sweaty shirtless two man grindy thing because they were really taking this a little too far. I was making out with my Boyfriend... wait. Um. My Boyfriend was like a 29 waistband and... hugging this didn't feel like... HOLY CRAP NICE ABS!!!! Oh, sweet baby jeebus I was faced the wrong way. Yeah. But the Boyfriend noticed it too. Exit: Now Ex-Boyfriend. Me: Damn, what just happened? Best Friend: wanted to keep making out.

I'm not going to say that it was BECAUSE I'd been upstairs watching his porn while he was at work... but I had been. That was actually WAY more porn than I've ever seen. The one porno I had seen at the age of 20 made up the whole of my experience with the genre. I thought of it as field research, actually. The vast majority of it involved women with more than one man, so I guess a man's porn really doesn't have anything to do with his reality. Guys have always said that to me...

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