The Third Date.

Michael: In my opinion the third date is traditionally the one where you have sex. Does Holly feel that way? I don’t know. I will probably find out tonight. If she starts having sex with me I’ll know for sure.

Ah, the elusive third date. I’m trying to recall all the third dates I’ve had – and how they ended. As many of my regular readers [and real life friends] know, in my past dating exploits, I rarely got to the third date.

Actually, I think I only had proper third date sex once.

It was B, a guy I worked with – and the first guy I hooked up with after The Ex and I broke up. Though the first time we went out, it was just to a bar. The second time, he came over, spent the night, and we hung out all the next day. Twenty-four hours in total. That was a mega-date. Then the third time we hung out, he came over after work, and spent the night. It culminated in sex. He never called me to go out again, and five months later, I heard he got married.

Only one other guy I had sex with took me on a date. That was D. We met at Fenway. And even then, like with B, they were those borderline dates. We had sex on our second date. I awkwardly cried in bed before we went to sleep. He held me. I don’t remember why, but he was sweet. We had sex the next morning. He never called me to go out again, but I see him around the Park from time to time.

The other seven guys I had sex with were all drunken one-night stands. Two of the guys I was friends/acquaintances with before, but don’t really talk to now. Another guy lives in my neighborhood. He saw me with my girlfriend recently. He kissed her hand, said, “Hello, Gorgeous” and awkwardly walked away. The rest I am okay with never talking to again. Except one: he lives in Ireland. I still talk to him. He and I actually had sex two separate times [the only repeat performance], and I thought I was kind of in love with him. I even sort of proposed on our way to the train station. He accepted, too. So I think I might be engaged. If he lived here, and I didn’t have my girl, I might try to make something happen with him. He was the best sex with a guy I ever had.

On the other hand, there were several guys I went out with more than three times that I never had sex with. A couple last year, and more before I dated The Ex. The only reason I can think is that I just really wasn’t attracted to them. And maybe I really just wasn’t attracted to guys in general. When my girlfriend came back to my apartment after our first date, we made out. We hooked up the second night. I was very attracted to her. And even though at first it was awkward, and I wasn’t sure if she crazy or not, I liked her.

We’ve been together for almost 4 months. I can’t remember if we had sex on our third date. But you know…I don’t think it matters.

Laws. And gays. And gay laws.

Why are issues about sexual orientation laws put to a vote, yet laws about rights for other minority groups are decided by the Supreme Court?

A brief and very incomplete timeline of important laws and court rulings:

- The Nineteenth Amendment to the Constitution (1920): No one shall be denied the right to vote based on sex. Landmark case for women’s suffrage and rights movement.

- Brown v. Topeka Board of Education (1954): in a 9-0 ruling, the Supreme Court decided that “separate educational facilities are inherently unequal.” Landmark case for the Civil Rights Movement.

- Loving v. Virginia (1967): in a 9-0 vote, the Supreme Court overruled prior laws banning interracial marriage.

- Turner v. Safley (1987): prisoners have the right to marry. [Needless to say, in many states convicted felons lose their rights to vote for a period of time after their release from prison - and in Kentucky and Virginia, felons are denied the right to vote permanently.]

- Defense of Marriage Act (1996), Public Law No. 104-199, 110 Stat. 2419:
No state (or other political subdivision within the United States) needs to treat a relationship between persons of the same sex as a marriage, even if the relationship is considered a marriage in another state. The federal government defines marriage as a legal union exclusively between one man and one woman.

- Lawrence v. Texas (2003): sodomy is no longer illegal.

- Goodridge vs. Dept. of Health (2004): The Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court found that the state may not “deny the protections, benefits and obligations conferred by civil marriage to two individuals of the same sex who wish to marry.” Chief Justice Margaret Marshall, writing for the majority, wrote that the state’s constitution “affirms the dignity and equality of all individuals. It forbids the creation of second-class citizens,” the state had no “constitutionally adequate reason for denying marriage to same-sex couples,” and “The right to marry is not a privilege conferred by the State, but a fundamental right that is protected against unwarranted State interference.” On the legal aspect, instead of creating a new fundamental right to marry, or more accurately the right to choose to marry, the Court held that the State does not have a rational basis to deny same-sex couples marriage on the ground of due process and equal protection.

Some countries with constitutional bans on gay marriage:
-Bulgaria
-Ukraine
-Democratic Republic of Congo
-Uganda
-Honduras
-Bolivia
-Paraguay
-Latvia

Countries that allow gay marriage:
-The Netherlands (2001): first country to legalize same-sex marriage
-Canada (2003)
-Belgium (2003)
-Spain (2005)
-South Africa (2006)
-Israel [foreign same-sex marriages recognized]
-Nepal [will be in new draft of constitution, as ordered by Supreme Court]
-Norway (2009)
-Sweden (2009)

Wouldn’t we – the US of A – rather be like Spain than Uganda? Like The Netherlands, and not like Latvia? Who even knows where Latvia is?? I do, but that’s not the point.

So why was Question 1 in Maine even raised? In May 2009, the Maine House and Senate passed the bill called “An Act To End Discrimination in Civil Marriage and Affirm Religious Freedom” and Governor Baldacci signed it into law. Then some groups, who felt threatened by gays being able to marry, petitioned to have the law repealed. It went to a vote, as Question 1 – as part of the checks-and-balance system of government we have. And the voters of Maine said, “Nope, we don’t want that extra 60 million dollars of revenue from your glitzy gay weddings, or thousand new jobs. Spend that homo money in Mass, you fag.”

What. The. Fuck.

Final thoughts:
If you don’t believe in gay marriage, then don’t get one and shut the fuck up.
I’m tired of hearing biblical arguments about this issue. 1) I don’t believe in the bible. 2) Marriage is a civil contract. 3) Is Britney Spears’ quickie marriage [and subsequent quickie divorce] really the kind of “sanctity of marriage” you want to uphold?

I sure as shit don’t.

I WANTS.

Dear Santa,

Heyyyy…how ya been?? So, here’s stuff that I WANTS SO BAD. I see these things, and I DIE. I LOVES. I’ll be a good girl, promise!

<3 Miss M

Buy here.

Click to purchase.

I NEEDS.

GIMME IT!

SIGH.

Happiness.

Uhh…

I’m tired. I’m drinking a beer. And I should really be asleep. I’m in bed, so that’s a good start.

I think I remember now why I made the switch. Because here’s the thing: I wait. I think. And I wait. And I think. And I wait…for what? Some kind of weird unknown? Yeah, this is the reminder of why I was done with all that. And things are totally good how they are. Why would I even be tempted to fall back into old ways?

It’s just silliness.

Go to bed.

Girlfriend.

I have one. A real one. She’s a girl, and she’s my girlfriend.

It’s pretty cool.

Another Lesbian Update

Ok, changed my mind about the girl.

We talked. She’s not crazy as I previously thought. She’s just getting used to: 1) dating, again; 2) dating a straight-ish girl; and 3) that aforementioned straight-ish girl. I’m no piece of cake myself.

She is a total sweetheart. And…I like her.

That’s all for now.

Bedshaped.

It was February 2008. My first Boston winter blanketed the world in harsh steel gray. Clouds hid the sun, and the city was cold. So was I.

While I was in the midst of a sinking depression, my boyfriend could do nothing to help me. Scratch that – he just refused to help me. He was angry with me for the deep and dark thoughts I had. All he seemed to care about was his graduate school and studying law, and not me – the girl who supported his dreams and moved 800 miles from home to be with him. I usually sat in the living room, watching television, or pretending to care about my own studies, when in reality I was just waiting for him. To pay attention to me. To love me. To realize that, yes, I was still there. And that I was, in fact, waiting – putting myself on hold and my own life on the backburner for the sake of us.

Oh, that dreaded word. Us.

Us killed me.

It wasn’t completely his fault. I tend to blame him for much of my suffering, but I wanted us to be my life. I wanted so badly for someone to love me, and this guy seemed to. I traded all of myself for a chance at what I thought would be happiness. In retrospect, I see that I was blind.

On that cold February day, as I waited around for him to notice me, he suggested I go do something. I decided maybe he was right. I bundled up, and grabbed my iPod, and walked down the street towards the Prudential Center – which is filled with people and shops. Lots of things to do, buy, and look at.

With the white earbuds blocking out the street noises, I turned the iPod on and hit “play.” Of all the songs that played that afternoon, I can only remember one: “Bedshaped” by Keane.

As often happens with me, a particular song usually stands for a person, time, or certain event in my life. It’s never intentional, but just happens that way. I’m sure I had heard this song before this moment – but all I can remember is this particular day, this particular time I listened to it.

Embedding is disabled. Click here to watch the video.

I know you think I’m holding you down

And I’ve fallen by the wayside now

And I don’t understand the same things as you

But I do

Don’t laugh at me

Don’t look away

You’ll follow me back

With the sun in your eyes

And on your own

Bedshaped, and legs of stone

You’ll knock on my door

And up we’ll go

In white light

I don’t think so

But what do I know?

What do I know?

I know…

I felt gripped with anguish. This felt all too true for my life. I felt like I had fallen by the wayside of someone that I truly loved. It was painful, in-your-face, and very real. Very visceral.

I asked myself: “What do I know?” And I didn’t know the answer.

The afternoon concluded in gloominess. I don’t recall much else about the day.

—————————————————————————————————-

We broke up about a month later.

I could never listen to this song without being overtaken by sadness. And I really thought it would always be this way.

—————————————————————————————————-

­­­­­­­­

It was July of 2009. My second Boston summer as a single woman was quickly coming to a close. The oppressive humidity of another overcast day turned to afternoon thunderstorms. I walked along Boylston Street, by the Public Garden, and admired the beauty of the city. The buildings stood tall, cutting into the low clouds. The people scurried about, with umbrellas and in good suits, dodging puddles while crossing the streets. In the garden, families sat on benches, and families of ducks cleaned themselves by the water.

I pulled out my white earbuds and my iPhone, scrolled through the playlist, and found it. I smiled. I hit “play.”

It was “Bedshaped.”

However, for some reason, today I wasn’t sad. As dreary as the day was, as stressful as this particular week had been, I was…happy.

Mainly because, for once, listening to this song didn’t make me sad. It made me realize that I am on my own, but by choice. No one is holding me down, and I’m not holding anyone else down. No one is leaving me by the wayside. No one thinks I don’t understand the same things that they do. No one is looking away from me.

This song is no longer true for my life.

Just reminds me that while things seem to always stay the same, little by little they can change, until one day you stop and really look – and you are a totally new person.

So you ask yourself: “What do I know?”

And you respond: “I know!”

Lesbian Update, Part II

Bitches are CRAZY.

I feel like I now completely understand what men go through on a regular basis in dealing with us. We are insane. I now have a strengthened appreciation for men.

Yeah, who saw that coming? I’m appreciating men – not bitching about them?? I must be in Bizarro World…

Lesbian Update

To quote Katy Perry:

I kissed a girl, and I liked it.

We’re still hanging out. She’s very sweet, and I am looking forward to seeing where this goes.

That’s all for now.

A New Direction

All the recent man-hating and ranting has left me exhausted, and not really ready/willing to jump back into the pool of Boston Dudes. So, I’ve decided to go a new direction:

I’m going on a lesbian date.

Yeah, I know. It’s craaaazy. My best friend and roommate both told me [a while back] that I liked the penis too much to ever go lesbo. My roommate said [and I quote]: “There are girls who scream ’sausage.’ And there are some girls, who screeeeeeam ’sausage.’” Apparently, I seem to really, really enjoy…sausage.

Anyway.

I have a very close lesbian friend who has invited me to the lesbian club with her and her other lesbian friends on an occasional lesbian basis. * Sorry – I keep using the adjective lesbian, and it’s starting to modify nouns that don’t really need lesbian modification. After some coaxing [I was tired and wanted to stay home and be lame], I agreed to go. Rifling through my drawer, I settled on a hot pink, cleavage-baring top and jeans, primped up, and headed out. I decided if I was going to a lesbian club, I better at least get hit on.

The entourage consisted of me, my lesbian friend T, her lesbian friend E, and E’s straight guy friend D. Immediately, T and E were prodding me – “Isn’t D cute?” “Ooh, do you like D?” “If I were straight, I’d fuck him, would you?” – like I’d never seen a straight guy before. He was okay, but very much not my type. Example: On the drive to the bar in his souped-up Acura, he blew stoplights and whizzed past buses at an alarming rate, one that made me say aloud too many times, “I think I’m going to die tonight.” Regardless of the exterior, I just simply cannot date/fuck/otherwise interact with a guy who drives like a complete toolbag.

We parked and got to the club, entered, got a beer, and made the requisite lap. It was still early and the place was fairly empty. Some women in skimpy clothes danced on the stage. Others, fully-clothed, danced with each other on the dancefloor. A strange man, maybe 40, stood alone at the bar, holding a Bud Light. He surveyed the scene. I thought maybe he was security – I think he was actually just a creep. A middle-aged hetero couple stood by the bar as well, and every once in a while, the woman would walk away and start to dance near a group of girls – then return to her place at the bar. My guess? A married couple looking to spice things up with a third. It was an interesting circus. I felt a little awkward at first. T and E started running around like mad, dancing with other lesbians they knew. D and I stood to the side, and chatted about how out of place we felt.

After a few minutes, I noticed a girl across the bar. She was wearing a Celtics jersey and a Red Sox hat, cargo shorts, and was dancing with some other girls. Definitely on the butch end of the spectrum, but I was curious about her – which surprised me. But I couldn’t stop looking at her, and kept thinking that I really wanted to talk to her. It freaked me out a little – who was this girl, and why was I being so weird? Eventually, my group made it closer to hers, and then we were side by side. I wondered if she noticed me and wanted to talk, too. But then I thought, “You’re hetero. What are you doing??”

Later, after I realized this weird obsession wasn’t going to fade, I told T about it. “Oh, I know her friend! Let’s go talk to them,” she said, and dragged me over there. I was scared, and didn’t know what to say…so I said, “Hi, nice to meet you.” I find that usually works in social situations where you meet new people – straight, gay, aliens, whatever. There was no reason for me to feel weird, so I decided just to try to be…normal.

The girl in the jersey’s name is R, and her friend is S. We all decided to dance, and as we walked to the dancefloor, S turned to me and said, “You’re straight, aren’t you?” I felt like my cover was blown. “Yeah…why? You could tell?” She nodded. We kept dancing. I wanted to blend in, but apparently I didn’t look homo enough. Quietly, R said, “Well, all the prettiest girls are straight…” It kinda made me smile a little bit.

A couple beers later [but not drunk], some Lady Gaga played, and R and I danced. We talked over the loud thump of the bass and the lively lesbian chatter. She was cool. She was…cute. What the hell was I doing? She said in my ear, “So, you’re straight?” I said, “Yes…but I could be convinced otherwise…” and I told her she was cute. She said, “Well, you should give me your phone number.” So I did. Then she gave me hers.

I got a girl’s phone number.

T came running up to me as the DJ was announcing the bar was closing. Apparently E had drank too much and was puking it all back up into the trashcan. As I turned to leave, R said, “Okay, well…call me.” And I said I would.

After piling back in the Acura in the rain, we headed home. I asked T the rules for lesbian dating, and she said I needed to wait at least a week before making any contact. I thought that was ridiculous, and I wanted to text R to see if she got home safely. I don’t know how much she had to drink, it was a rainy night, and I was genuinely concerned.

So I texted. And she texted right back, saying she was about to text me. And then we made some tentative plans, that turned into real dinner plans. For tomorrow.

We’re getting sushi.

I’m definitely looking forward to this new experience. If it goes badly, then at least I know, and I’ll stick it out with dudes. And if it goes great…well, then we’ll see.