I saw a pod of wild dolphins off the condo balcony this morning and my heart did that leaping and pounding thing she does when she gets excited.
I was torn between just watching and trying to capture the moment on my phone camera, which is notoriously not great at capturing moments, selfies and cute outfits…yes, big life moments, no.
I took a short video with my hands shaking, then I just stared in wonder.
4th year here and I have never seen this. Tiny miracles.
A John Mayer song popped into my head 3X5, “Didn’t have a camera by my side this time, wanted to see the world through both my eyes.” So I did.
I left my good camera at home. On purpose. No regrets. I have taken the same shots of the same migratory pair of osprey for almost 4 years running. Of course one flew over the balcony at close range yesterday and all I could thing was ‘you fucker’.
I haven’t been up early enough to catch the sunrise, yet, and the full moon shining off the water was a sight to behold, but we all know what moon photos look like with mediocre lenses. Not great, like a light in the sky.
That being said I did get a cool shot with my phone wherein the moon had wings.
“All of us with wings.” Jane’s Addiction.
Giant had wings, but he is gone.
But this is about none of that.
You see dear readers, I am in Facebook jail. 23 hours left and counting. The first 48 were a bitch.
I feel naked and strange. Neutered and muted. Like I am wandering the halls of a high school I no longer go to and I can’t tell anyone why I am there.
My ban is due to an article I wrote 18 months ago and have probably reposted 18 times. Wherein I pontificate about wanting a gang bang.
In the days that have passed since my hand was cut off, I have taken to Instagram. I’ve realized yes, I am addicted to social media. I miss my people. Someone is having surgery and I cannot wish her luck. Girls have gone missing from my old town and I cannot post a warning. This fucking sucks.
And I saw dolphins.
Now, a few things have become clear.
My sexuality is a threat to some. I kinda knew that already. I am an articulate, out spoken stripper, not everyone’s cup of tea, I get that. So just look away of you don’t like it. No one asked you to walk into the strip club, or my head for that matter.
I have also accepted the fact that some people cannot just scroll on by when they don’t like something, ESPECIALLY if they have an opinion about it.
THERE IS NO OUR LADY OF LUST AND GRACE. I am mocking the catholic church, get a fucking clue.
People leave my page like rats on a sinking ship often. If I get to crass, too political, too sexy or too muchy much. Happens to all of us page runners at one time or another.
In speaking to another page runner she suggested I change the title, which I probably will if I can. And the picture has to go, I figured that already. But she said something else that struck me and fuck it HURT.
She said
I think some women equate a gang bang with rape. It is a stereotype from old movies in the 70’s. Many women are damaged and abused sexually and we have just hit the tip of the iceberg. They’re angry and it is now erupting. So it’s a hot topic. Women will start attacking each other and pointing fingers at each other. That is what they have been trained to do. There needs to be a revolution of women taking their power back and standing together.
The line in italics knocked me on my ass.
I grew up like that. I felt very little danger from men, but the women were poison.
We HAVE been trained to fight and compete with one another. There ARE women who like things the way they are, who think sexual harassment is the price we must pay for existing and the idea that it’s wrong wold mean they would have to first admit, then deal with how they have been treated and that is a much too big a burden to bear.
I’ve gotten to that point in my own evolution that I sometimes forget, some people don’t want change, and it’s not just the men who are afraid, (And they fucking should be) it’s the women too.
“Better never means better for everyone… It always means worse, for some.”
― Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale
Whether that worse is a reality or not is their own perception. Case and point the Handmaid’s Tale. Women accepted and participated in the slavery of other women. Because, in my opinion, they felt they needed men to keep them safe.
I have felt that way. Luckily I am surrounded by a group of incredible men that I have chosen because of who they are and how they treat me, and if protection is needed I have it. I tend to these friendships and relationships like some would tend to a rose garden, with diligence and care.
I also can get laid whenever I please, which is a good thing because I do so love sex.
But not with ALL men though.
See what I did there.
I think therein lies another problem. Some men can’t seem to grasp the idea that it’s my body and I get to choose who I want in it. It is possible that some men fuck more indiscriminately than I and with ego comes ‘I want what I want so it must be the norm.’
Sorry honey. It ain’t.
For no other reason than my own, I am thinking that a gang bang is not in my future.
Maybe two good boys.
But again…it’s my body, my blog, my business.
This is another one I have to link on my blog, for multiple reasons. One of them is about those friendships with men you write about, as in your last post about Big Spoon. You point to a truth that Robert Heinlein put simply; “Sex should be friendly. Otherwise stick to mechanical toys; its more sanitary.”
Your friend hit on a really important feature of the change that needs to happen. Its not just men. Very often people go into therapy, couple’s counseling, or family therapy and when asked to define the problem, they talk about how someone else needs to change. The therapist, if they are good, then has to ask what the complainer is willing to change. What we call “rape culture” doesn’t exist in men alone. It includes everybody, and everybody has responded to it, whether by fighting, adapting, or avoiding, or being complicit.
I’ll be looking for you on Face Book when you get out of jail.
i think you have been singlehandedly keeping my blog numbers out of the gutter while i have been gone. and i thank you very much
You’re very welcome.
[…] Source: my body, my blog, my business […]
“Maybe two good boys.”
Yum
Now, I have a double mint commercial in my head.
Double the pleasure
Double the fun
I have enjoyed your posts and am sorry someone wasn’t adult enough to just move along. If something offends me I just stop reading it and will pick up another article that is more suited to me. It’s not like you came knocking on my door. You wrote something I found interesting and I asked to follow you.
Keep up the good work and write what you want.
Though I’m no blog reader, or writer, or purveyor of said things. I’ve found myself in your page. Perusing your stories and wandering your mind.
I like it here and think I’ll stay a while.
And now just find out you’re a stripper too.
Ohhhh how decadent!! Kind of like getting a really warm, chewy, crunchy, corner piece of brownie. Then someone asking would you like chocolate syrup for that??
Well WTF?!?! Well why the fucks sake have you been holding out on the syrup?!?!
Some things are better w syrup??
And All things are better w strippers!!
I used to say when I worked in corporate, man gets promoted, “Hey, Bill give me a week and I will figured out how to get you in”. Woman moves up, “Mine, Mine, Mine” they dont know what i did to get here, they (other women) will have to endure before i will help get them promoted. You are correct about the culture not wanting to be gender helpful. Your blog is my new “think tank” fuel