No Down Low With The Flow?

When I was 19 and I had just met Norris, we had scheduled our first “date night”.  It was summer and I was home from college.  Read “date night” as us grabbing some dinner, and then watching a movie back at his place aka code words for “fucking”.  From the moment we scheduled it, I was anxiously looking forward to it.  That man made my crazy colored artsy girl heart go BANG, ZOOM well, more like my lady bits, but at 19 sometimes we often get these parts confused.

In any case, I was having my period, but it was waning.  Still, on the eve of date night, I still had it, and knew it would still be there for the “Big Night”.  This distressed me.  I was always under the impression that sex on your period was “dirty”.  No one ever told me this flat out, but I suppose it’s there in the underlying text when you learn about this marvelous womanly wonder. On the one hand here is this awesome thing that allows your body to produce life, and on the other, it’s deemed a nuisance, and sometimes, a painfully uncomfortable one.  One that is to be kept hidden, and spoken about only in hushed tones and whispers with sideways glances.  Congratulations, you’re a woman!  Oh, sorry, and also dirty and you should be ashamed.

So, needless to say, I had taken it to heart that this was something I should never, ever, consider coming anywhere near a man with.

Oddly enough, there was something about who I was at that point in my life, and luckily so for me, that I was brave and brazen enough to approach the subject with him.  On the eve of the date when he called to confirm our plans, I told him that I had something to ask him.  I tentatively explained that I was finishing up my “monthly”, and while it was mostly gone, there still might be traces of it around for our night together, and hesitantly asked if this would be a problem for him.  What happened next basically spells out how most of my 17 plus year friendship with him ended up being like: he said, “I had a feeling you were going to ask me that.  No, it’s not a problem at all for me”.  You know, that seems like such a small deal, but it was actually quite pivotal.  It’s also one of the many reasons it made him so easy to fall for, as a sexy friend, or otherwise.

This was the beginning of the reversal of any negative subliminal programming I had received regarding my period as dirty or disgusting.

After this I was never afraid to go there without hesitation with lovers, and I have to say I have been exceptionally lucky in that I have never had a man say “No” when I was on my flow.  “Red Wings” have been earned by many a lover, and many a cock have been smothered, covered, and love”red” with my crimson flow.  In some ways, it feels very primal.    I love a man who isn’t squicked out by something so natural, and likewise, wouldn’t justify it as a reason to pass up orgasmic bliss.  I find it hard to imagine enjoying a lover who has such a roadblock.  I’m guessing we wouldn’t be very compatible, as I am not waiting 7 days to stop bleeding just so I can jump my partner.  I am not that patient.

Its blood.  That’s all, people.  Just blood.  Hey, if you read Twilight and swoon over vampires,  obviously the thought of blood isn’t all that disgusting to you.  Why should it get in the way of your pleasure?

Sheets can get thrown in the wash, and come out unstained.  Towels can be placed underneath if you don’t want the hassle of changing your bed sheets.  Most of all, bodies wash off!  Continue that sexy time with sensuous clean up in the shower afterwards!

Think of it this way, if he says “no” to having sex with you for fear of period blood, but has no issues with the thought of anal sex (and thus the possibility of getting shit on his dick) then what does this really say?  Things that make me go hmmmmmm.  Might I add, I love anal, and men who love anal, and men who are just not afraid of bodies in general.  I love a man who can go with the flow.  Red Wingers, I salute you!

In the interest of good science, and just plain nosy curiosity for those out there who are so inclined to share, how do you feel about getting down when you, or your lover, is bleeding?

Ladies, do you avoid sex when you have your period?  If so, why?

Men, do you avoid having sex with your lover when she is having her monthly flow?

Or, because I just like a good story, feel free to share a similar story about this sacred taboo.


What’s A Little Slut Shaming Amongst Friends?

It’s been a long week, and I’m glad that my life seems to be getting back to it’s usual even balance after some time of brief turbulence.  In short, teenage angst is just as angsty when you live with someone going through it, and my daughter had her fair share this past week.  I think they should make taking vacations mandatory for those parents who have teenagers.  Just sayin’.  I think that right there is the answer to world peace.

I’m a fan of words.  Wipe that silly grin off your face, I know, I know, it’s obviously so you say, because I’m a writer.  Well, I do, and yes, it is one of the reasons I am indeed, a writer.  First, allow me to say that after years and years of calling myself a writer, and feeling kind of like a fraud for proclaiming so since I hadn’t had anything published except two poems long ago, I finally feel guilt-free to call myself one again now that I have bits and blurbs of mine published here and there across the web.  Still, I long to have a book made of actual paper pages published one day.  Goals: word.

If you’re anything like me, you have an internet game addiction, or three.  This is one of the many reasons I can no longer fathom life without a smartphone.  What would I do with any shred of boredom in which I couldn’t stare idlly at my iphone to help get me through?  It’s a bad habit to be screen addicted, I know, but oh, how I loves me some technology.  And in that love of screen time, comes my love of games.  No, I’m not a member of anyone’s mafia, I don’t have an imaginary farm, and I haven’t mined pixelated ore in a long time, but I do have my vice: Words With Friends.  Yes, Alec Baldwin and I have something in common other than thinking he’s hot as hell.  Being a long-time lover of Scrabble, this online addiction to Words With Friends was inevitable.

Recently I have been playing several games with a male “friend” from my running club.  Although I have been a member of this running club for the better part of this year, I’ve only been to one official club event, and still have yet to meet this guy.  Most of my participation has been by going to race events and meeting people that way.  We “met” via the group page for the club on Facebook.  So, other than “liking” each others photos or status updates, or commenting on the occasional post, we have really had no other interaction yet.  I admit that from his profile photo alone, I look forward to meeting him in person.  I’ll leave your mind to wander around in that vagueness for a bit.

So, here we are playing these games of Words With Friends together.  Anyone who has ever played these type of word games knows how often the potential to play various words that one might consider eyebrow raising, comes up.  (Hah, pun unintended)  And it’s not that the words are really all that naughty, it’s just that they’re packed with innuendo, and that is enough I guess.  What happens between men and women seems to then take one of two distinct paths:  the courting or the shaming of the of the player.  I’m still confused as to why.

Courting usually can be either a friendly encouragement, a welcome advance if you will, or it can be a boundry-crossing, unwanted thwart.  This depeds on may factors, and is usually dependent (I feel, at least) on how well the two people know one another, as well as their existing relationship to one another.

Shaming, well, that’s easier to share with greater detail.

The first word of this nature to be played by Running Man (who shall be forever known in the rest of this post as “RM” for short) is “BUSTY”.  I smile, and reply in the chat window, “Saucy word there!”.  A few moves later I play the word “SOAPY”, and he tells me in the chat window, “Now it’s your turn to be a little saucy”.  This is innocent and cute, and in no way unwelcome.  I wasn’t even thinking, for once, of the “saucier” innuendo for that word.

It’s followed up shortly thereafter by RM with the word “BONED” in a separate game.  I type in the chat window, “Mmm-hmmm”, as if to say, “Really now”.  Now, call me crazy here, but am I the only one thinking the sexier meaning of this word?  I mean, yes, corsets are “boned”, chicken can be de”boned”, but when I see the word boned, all I can think of is the Steve Stiffler version.

I don’t think this makes me crass, I think it makes me human.  I write about sex professionally, so it’s natural for it to be on my mind.  He doesn’t know this.  I keep this aspect of my professional life private from most because of the stigma it might bring to other aspects of my life; both good or bad, but usually more slanted towards the side of bad.  He replies to me, “LOL I think your mind is shall we say, creative?”, and I type back, “Well, yes, creativity is my line of work, so LOL”

It’s seems so innocent, this kind of friendly banter, until I start to feel this slight taint of “ick” that creeps up on me. I notice that I start to feel like there was a backhanded compliment in there, but maybe I am wrong.  I have been wrong before, and it’s so easy to misconstrue words like this without seeing a person’s body language when they say them, or hearing their vocal intonations.  This is the pitfall of internet interactions.  To that note, he could have misread the same from me.

So then the awkward moment comes when I can play the word “ORGIES” in a new current game.  It will get me more points as it uses more of my letters, and I will hit a double word tile with it.  I kind of hesitated to play it, but then decided to.  I mean, seriously, why start shaming myself for using words like that anyway?  While I’ve never had an orgy, I have had a threesome, or two (or three), so who I am to judge language.  I play it and type in our chat window, “Don’t judge. LOL  It got me more points”.  He replied, “Nice :-)”

Still innocent.

This morning, a few turns after that play, RM plays the word “HARLOT”, and adds in our chat window, “nothing personal”


First, I’m like “ha-ha”, and then I’m all haunches raised at this.  The meaning of the word harlot according to Merriam-Webster’s is “Prostitute”.  First, why would I take this personally, and second, have we just gone from friendly and innocent, to shaming?  Am I to think that, because I chose certain words and joked about the innuendos behind them, that this makes me akin to a harlot?  A strumpet?  A Jezebel?  Is it because I am a woman and thinking this way that it must make me “dirty”or less than, instead of if I were a bro, and we would exchange manly fist bumps with pride?

Now, like I said, I am the first to admit I could now be the one taking this all out of context, but it had a level of “ick” to it that came across as judgement or shaming.  Why in the year 2012 is it still considered a detriment to be a woman and be comfortable in her sexuality?  Why does it imply something “bad” about us, yet fills men with a sense of virile bravado worthy of appreciation?  This is why I have kept my freelance writing career private, and most likely will continue to do so with anyone other than close and trusted people in my life.  Yet I admit to feeling like a hypocrite because my aim is to shatter this notion, and in my hiding, I am counterproductive to my own cause.  I am hiding.  It’s like admitting there is something to be shameful of, instead of rally against.  Insert heavy sigh here.

I will continue to play Words With Friends with my “friend” RM, and someday we will meet at a race or club event.  Maybe none of this will matter.  Maybe we will see each other afresh and anew, and not have any linguistic baggage to color our perceptions of one another.  I really hope that I am making this more than it really is, and yet, that inital knee-jerk reaction remains; why would I take “harlot” personally?  I think I do, but not for the reasons you may think, dear RM.

Yes, I am a woman who owns her sexuality, and feels it’s a valuable part of my being as a whole.  I wish more women would feel this way, but it’s hard to in the face of a societal notion that good girls don’t like, or talk about, sex.

Ok, getting down off my soap box, and going to get “SOAPY” in the shower.  I have a lunch meeting to make.