A discerning lesbian shares her dating, relationship and sexual experiences.

from Love on the Racks …Fun with Metaphors

Dating and relationships can be compared to buying clothes… You go to a place where all the clothes are, and grab a shirt off the rack, hold it up and say, “This is the perfect shirt for me.” You pay for it, (sometimes too high a price), take it home, and then when you actually try it on, you realize it doesn’t fit at all, binds you in all the wrong places, is the wrong color, or makes you look ridiculous.

Then you have to take it back to the store and hope there’s a return policy, so you won’t be out the money, even if you are out the time spent buying the shirt.

What you should be doing, is first and foremost, not shopping unless you have the money to do so properly; and then shopping at many different stores, in many different neighborhoods. You should pull five or six shirts off the rack, and go directly to the dressing room to try them all on. You should model them in front a mirror, look at them from all angles. You should also never ask the sales person how they look on you, because the sales person has a conflict of interest. You should ask your best friend how you look in them (because you know your best friend will always tell you the truth); thus, you make a decision based on several perspectives, and how it feels to actually have each of them on, and not merely an impulse buy.

This metaphor illustrates the basics of how to seek a romantic partner. The clothes, of course are the potential dates, and the salesperson can represent several things, like the person you’re dating-how they choose to represent themselves-which could be a misrepresentation, after all. Looking at the clothes from all angles is analogous to spending enough time with a person to know the many facets of who they are. The shopping at different stores means don’t look for your potential partner in one bar, or on one site, or at one event.

You have to cast a wide net to increase your chances. Primarily, you should be willing to take the time to make your decisions sound ones. There are those who are of the school of thought that “analysis is paralysis,” meaning, thinking our relationship decisions through is somehow a buzzkill. In my mind, analysis is meant to foster understanding, and if you dismiss, out of hand, your experiences, conflicts, needs, and standards, then you learn nothing. If your intent is to understand the person, understand yourself, and endeavor to avoid doing the same things using the same methods, while expecting different results, this is indeed the definition of stupidity. And the person-garment you chose will never be the right fit.

Et Tu, Brute?

“You blocks, you stones,
you worse than senseless things!
O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome…”
~Shakespeare (Julius Caesar)

I am regularly dismayed by human behavior. It seems more and more difficult to find emotionally stable people–people who have a firm grip on character and integrity, a working knowledge of truth. Some folks are just plain mean.

Tonight, for instance, a person I thought was my friend turned on me, and although I think I know why, it still doesn’t make it easier to take. She was incapable of processing her emotions in a healthy way, and took her angst out on me. She chose to believe things that were not true, because it somehow explained the failure of our relationship; and effectively kept her from doing any self-examination. She then chose to inflict great personal harm and insult, with no provocation. If a certain switch gets flipped, people are capable of selecting the most harmful or hurtful things to say to you, with full knowledge that it will inflict pain. To make this action even more reprehensible, her accusation was no more than a hypocritical projection–she was guilty of that which she accused me. Psychology 101.

These are the people who look you in the eye and deny their ability to crush you, deflect your attempts to ease your mind, and destroy your faith in humankind. No matter how many times someone tells me “Oh, I would never treat you like that,” I have come to realize that those words mean precisely nothing to me. This is a level of cruelty I am not willing to have in my life-from friend nor foe.

You are not what you say, you are what you do.

CONTENTS

The Pusher

Whirlwind Romance

Stood Up Like a Chump

Chess For Sex

Monster on a Half-Shell

Insomnia, Sex, Guilt & Mahjongg

Texas Pain Saw Mess-a-Girl

Heavy Sigh

Truth or Consequences

To All The Girls I’ve Loved Before

The CircleCircleCircle Fiasco

The Beautiful Blogist

Beautiful Blogist: Act 2

Beautiful Blogist: Act 3

The Actress with a Bad Vibe

How to Freak Out Your Ex’s New Girlfriend

Orbital Chaos Theory

Relationships: Dealing with Psych Issues

String Theory Romance

When a Relationship Ends

The KISS Method

Phone A Friend

Love Me, Love Me Not

Eye of the Beholder

Weapons of Heart Destruction

Crossing Paths

Is that What Really Happened?

Sullied Pajamas

Sullied Pajamas-REDUX

Sullied Pajamas: the Thlot Plickens

Sullied Pajamas: In 3D

Sullied Pajamas: Steak won’t Change my Mind

My Hands That Close to Your Neck

Et Tu, Brute?

The Truth is Ever Clear

Love on the Racks

Awareness, Focus & Mindless Lemmings

Hope Does Not Float

People Are Just M&M’s

Mercy Kissing

Catching Hell From the Hellish

What is the deal with Lesbians?

A Jarring Thought

Open Relationships Vs. Monogamy

Ditto

I Warned You About Protective Head Cover

Troubling Mammaries

Remote Control Yourself

The Unbearable Lightness of Being Unbearable

Herniated Disco: Necessary Scissors

On the Heels of…

Fuckedupedness

Food, Sex & Purpose

Women’s Homophobic Meetup Group

Show & Tell

Kindred Molecules, Deja Vu, & Noosphere

What Would You Do to Have it?

Id, Ego, SuperEgo

Train Wrecks & Other Human Tragedies

A Rose By Any Other Color

Virtual Strangers (a Play in One Act)

Fat Chance: Lament of a Transplanted Single

Awkward

Conduit

Happy Meals

Face Down in the Low Road

Birthday Bash

Fleeing Field Mouse

Happy Effing Anniversary

Extended Stress Hotel

The Biggest Lies of All

Bell Ringing

Dodged a Bullet

“In My Late Fourty”

Tell Me About Yourself

Intelligence as Intimidation Factor