Thursday, March 17, 2011

Understanding Words

Rube talked about her virginity, and now I have to talk about mine because my comment was too long and it turned into a story. Heart you, Rubes.

Being comfortable with my virginity was like living on Saturn, surviving off iced salt and chaos rings. I wore it like a cloak of shame and self-disgust. When everyone was sharing dashing stories about sex, I would darkly withdraw. Because I was not a virgin by choice, I was virgin because I was not sexy, and I'd been told so I knew it was true.

Some people would say, "oh, but you had the chance, of course, and you weren't ready." And I would clarify, "No. No one has ever shown any interest. Believe me. I'm not stupid." They would insist I was wrong and offer ignorant and careful consolations, like "well, you know, I was thinking about trying this new kind of make up, maybe it will help you feel more confident about yourself, you should just relax, sometimes you can be a little stubborn and some women find that men like them better when they listen," which is just a betrayal, justifying my previous belief that they were liars who didn't have the guts to tell me I was plainly unlovable to my fucking face. Besides, telling someone like me to "listen" and "relax" has the same effect as shoving your hand in a fire.

I would angrily point it out and they would deny it three times, but I understand words better than most people and have little respect for both magazine rehash disguised as advice and subtle implications between friends. It's goddamn insulting.

I would prefer to hear, "Well, looks are important. They're the first thing someone sees. You dress down on purpose, you don't exercise, and you assume everyone you talk with has the same knowledge as you, which is goddamn frustrating. Either stop bitching or change something." It's such a relief when someone speaks without that deceptive mind-crap.

I chose 'stop bitching.' Why? Because I wanted to know. I wanted to know if someone could really, truly be attracted to me as I am, no masks or games. This is me, in all of my angry, whiplash, anchored, beer-fueled glory, and I am loud, sometimes cruel, and protective to a fault. And your joke was not funny but I like the effort. We'll work on that. Let me tell you a tragedy:

Once upon a time there was a stone who loved the wind, but she loathed how it teased her.

It's horribly sad, isn't it? Poor immovable stone.


So a friend got very, I mean, embarrassingly, nay! obscenely drunk this weekend and confessed she and her husband had mutual crushes on me and every time they thought I would join them for a threesome I would go home or fall asleep and they would go to bed unfulfilled. She thanked me for always being gracious about denying their advances, and never getting awkward or uncomfortably judging.

I had no fucking idea what she was talking about.

No fucking idea.

She gave me instances of nights I fully remembered, and they were fun drunken conversations between friends, and how the fuck was I completely unaware they were underlined with subtle, insidious flirting? Granted, I would never have done it because the thought of being in a threesome makes me uncomfortable, terrified, and cold, but shit. I am not, nor have I ever been, polyamorous. I am way too selfish.

I've been edgy and nervous ever since, trying to cycle back through so many conversations I've had with guys and wondering if they were actually interested and I'm just completely illiterate in the language of pre-doin'-it. Oh my god, what if I'm a sociopath. I have an inability to read facial cues. Shit. Fuck damn. What about Donny? What about Ben? What about all of those guys I dismissed as friends when chances are I was unknowingly letting them down easy?

I have so many phone calls to make, which I never will. "Joe? Hey, it's Rassles. Yeah. Hi. So remember that night we met and we stayed up watching cartoons, and you told me I should have more faith in guys and they all weren't judging bastards and I laughed at your face? Yeah? Were you trying get some? Did we stop hanging because I wouldn't put out?"


"Well, Rass, honey," Savannah explains, "That's because you're naive."

"I am not naive. They rarely rarely rarely try anything with me. None of my male friends has ever tried to sleep with me." I finish off my beer, slam the glass on the table and stare at it, or behind it. There is a hole in the table.

"See, that's because...this is what I'm saying: You're naive."

"I don't follow your logic. I need another beer."

"They always, always, always want to sleep with you. Everyone wants to sleep with you. Always. All the time. Own it. Look everyone in the eyes and let them know that you know that they want to fuck you. Rum and coke," Savannah grins at the server walking by, who smiles back.

I laugh and turn my head to the server. "Ha! Kai getta High Life, please?" she nods and smiles at Savannah before heading back to the bar. "And then they say, 'what is wrong with you? Stop looking at me like that.' I know. It's happened before."

"In like junior high."

"Left an impression."

"You cannot judge how men see you based off of a conversation you had when you were twelve."

"Yes I can. I need more male friends."

"What does that...? Shut up. Half of your friends are dudes."

"Yes, and most of them are married and none have tried to make sex with me. I should have a pride of dudes at my disposal, if so many dudes want it. A fucking pride."

"Okay, no one wants to 'make sex' with you. Now you're not naive, you're just a dork."


I am not good with subtle implications, and I understand words worse than most people. Oh, you wonder about the man who will eventually break my stupidity?

Let me tell you a satire.

Once upon a time there was a stone who loved the wind, and she never realized its teasing, faint caress was a return of affection rather than friendly, belittling mockery.



  1. Just saw the header you added (or I didn't see the first time I read this) - I was away writing the post that yours and Ruby's had stirred up in me...

    Apart from my own stuff, as I read your post, it made me think of this other one I read recently, which is only kind of tangentially related. You might like it:

  2. I understand words better than most as well, but still giggle like I'm 12 when I read 'make sex'. ha ha ha
    And, stop thinking your being mocked. You're not. Don't you remember me offering to allow you to be President with my husband as First Husband. Sheesh.

  3. Ok, first, love the stone stories. Second, I had a bunch of guy friends tell me, waaaay after the fact that they had indeed wanted to fuck me but definitely thought I wasn't interested or didn't want to upset friend balance between me and other guys, also that I was intimidating(whatever that's a copout and probably not true). You are cute so plenty of guys want to make sex with you but yes, if you are not doing all the preening makeup stuff, that could be seen as a signal that you are not interested and when you try to be clever which might be your way of showing interest by trying to impress them with your rapier wit and trivial/non-trivial knowledge, they may read that as they are way to dumb for you rather than you being interested in seeing them naked. Who knows, maybe you just have something hanging from your nose?

    You are intimidating you know. I would love to meet you but a little part of me thinks, oh, Rassles is going to think I'm a big prissy, one beer guzzling dork who hasn't kept up with her music/movie knowledge since becoming a mom and she will make reference that I am too ashamed to ask about and I will nod my head and pretend to understand and desperately switch the subject to stroganoff.

  4. I'm pretty sure I just can't pick up on hints. It's true that for me to know when someone is interested in me, he pretty much needs to just come out and say, "Hey, I wanna my P in your V"

  5. I've got a fucking pride of men chasing me these days. The Man thinks it's fucking hysterical that his 40+ wife is all of a sudden considered hot shit and being chased by an international crowd.

    Must have something to do with the fact that I'm in sales now rather than delivery. Different breed of people.

    It has it's own discomforts.

  6. Love you Rass. Had a friend like you once, though not as smart. She was just so damn covered in barbed wire. Told her. She didn't like it. We ain't friends anymore. The End.

    I agree with Ruby. I'd meet you and have to nod and smile ;) but I would be thinking you were super awesome the whole time.

  7. Point to ponder: How could that stone love the wind at its teasing faint caress if it refuses to see the return of affection and instead filters it through belittling mockery goggles?

    Those are your interpretations my dear. This stone is refusing to turn over and see the sun. What is it that holds you back? God help me, I know there is but a small pond of men who can hold their own but they are there, just a stones throw away if you will stop throwing them away, that is. I see walls, great barriers protecting you Rassles.

    You are going to have to flesh out that truth before you will wake up one day and announce to the world, look out baby, here I come.

    And if you do, call me, cause I can be there in a hurry. Ain't no mountain high enough, ain't no fucking Illinois toll booth long enough to keep me away. You remind me SO MUCH of me at your age. I can't wait to see you emerge and own your power.

  8. Cat, I DO like that post. A great deal.

    Mongo, it's hard to remember that some people use humor and a bit of teasing to substitute for flirting, because I use humor and a bit of teasing as general conversation. I am very charming.

    Rubes, sometimes I like hearing that I'm intimidating because it gives me a reason. I'm always afraid, though, that in the end I'm just annoying.

    Ellie, you deserve a pride.

    Grumpy, I don't like hearing that, but I suppose it's true. I'm actually hard to offend and upset, but it comes across differently because I'm offended by things that don't seem to offend anyone else, and things that society thinks I should find offensive usually don't register on my radar. Like, I'm not very self-conscious about my body. If I'm overweight, it's my fault for being unhealthy. I've never been sensitive about my appearance. But hypothetically, you suggest I wear more make-up? FUCK you. That is offensive. That's me unnaturally changing my face to meet YOUR ridiculous standards, merely because you don't like it. I like your face better without make up, but it's not up to me to impose these things. Does that make sense?

    ZM, there is a sun? Thank you for your words, and yes, there are walls. They've been very high for very long and I really don't know how they got that way.

  9. Fuck make up Rass. I'm saying this as a person that always wears make up and that feels ridiculous without it. But seriously, fuck it. I cannot imagine you with make up on and neither can the guy that wants to fuck you and I know he's out there eyeballing you, you stone, you just don't see it, and yes, he's fucking intimidated as hell.

  10. Yeah, but this isn't about make up at all, seriously, not at all, that's just the easiest example to use without getting all political.

  11. Oh, I'm always so argumentative and ungrateful.

    So thanks, guys. You're all swell.