self-love

AdviceCultureSex

Its interesting to me that I haven’t been writing about sex lately. My sexual writers block is caused by me actually having a sex life of late.

It is easy to write about anonymous faces or generalized sexual partners, but when you are getting it on the regular there is less to talk about because you are practicing it. I’m less concerned with chasing tail once its in my bed warm and waiting.

I came home to someone sleeping in the broken spot in my bed, I took off all of my clothes and climbed in. Right where I belonged in that moment. Sticky sweaty skin, soft flesh melting into more tender loveliness. I can go into detail about the sun coming through the window and the exact sounds and smells, the wonderful warmth.

Some things cannot be defined by words alone. A smile upon waking, my legs fit inside yours. Its nice to know that I wasn’t the only one wondering, what if? I run my finger down the nape of your neck and see you shiver with antici……pation.

I am more of an expert at longing for some touch, rather than actually having someone. I don’t believe in ever really “having” anyone, people aren’t propery. It is easy to preach about self confidence and feeling good about life regardless of your relationship status, but living it is a different story.

I always say that true love should be effortless, pure joy, constant stream of brilliant moments and moments where you must lift each other to brilliance. I was once told that I would never find love if I didn’t lose weight, but then I learned to love myself. There is more to love when you love each inch.

Do opposites really attract? I feel as though you must have some things in common to spark that initial fire, but you can’t be the same person. I always look for someone as out there and artistically over achieving as I am. There cannot be light without dark, you cannot know true bliss without knowing the bitter taste of defeat and sadness. The placement of the darkest shadow and most brilliant highlights is the main element of successful art.

I was in California and I couldn’t imagine having weather that pleasant all year round. Eternal summer. I need that six months of winter to hibernate and make art. If I were able to frolic about and play in the sunshine all year I would never get shit done.

I am so easily distracted by the summertime feel fine way of life. I want to lay in the sun in a field of flowers and stretch out as far as I can with the life affirming warmth beating down on me. It’s like love, to appreciate the good times you need to survive the rest of times. You need to have a job to appreciate days off.

travel
I had never traveled that far from home, I roamed away from Buffalo. I felt a little like Hunter S Thompson heading to Las Vegas to pick up a flight to San Diego. Instead I should rent the biggest reddest oldest convertible there is and drive it across the desert. No looking back, no surrender.

Humans are meant to wander, to move around, experience things. If we stay in place we become stupid and stagnant, fenced in by our own insecurities and fears. It’s a horrible life to not want more, to not wonder what else is out there, to see how other people live, to notice the differences and relish in the familiar moments.

Las Vegas is a place I never wanted to meet, slot machines at every turn, I thoroughly dislike gambling. There is something so creepy about the subliminal hum of casinos. The elderly and addicted sitting like drones pushing buttons and pulling levers. Its downright freaky to me. If I’m going to waste my money its going to be on something that makes me happy. Physical things should never be the cause of happiness. Money will never be the cause of happiness.
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I visited Coronado Island in San Diego. It was where Some Like It Hot was filmed. Gold flecked beaches shimmered brilliantly. I stood in the same place that Marilyn Monroe stood.

It was magical, but it also made me think that she was just a woman, doing her thing in the height of her life and popularity. She had no idea that her image would make such an impact on the world. Her beauty radiates throughout generations who were not even alive yet. Icon status.

People often compare me to her, I think merely because of the blondness and buxom nature of our curves. The curse of curves, the curves that possibly got her murdered by the Kennedys. Someone told me today that I smile like Marilyn, big and cheesy, a lot hiding in that smile. some like it hot
I was dumped once for being unnaturally happy, never arguing or fighting the entire relationship. He couldn’t stand it. I thought of myself as more of a ray of sunshine to his clouds.

It is easier to be openly flirty once you have already been inside someone. Asking for more is different than asking for the first time. Uncertainty is terrifying. It is also what life is all about, taking chances. The idea of being shot down by a love interest is as scary as the idea of being shot down in the streets by a robber.

Successful relationships come down to who did the dishes and took the garbage out, superficial bullshit that is actually a big symbol of respect. Little things count.

Life is more than just beautiful moments and physical attraction. You must work hard and struggle before success is handed to you. Take the good with the bad and fall in love with the journey.

Marilyn Monroe is a timeless beauty, she will never age in our minds because she was taken before her time, dead before she got too old to wrinkle. Love your wrinkles and curves, live in the moment, travel as much as possible, compliment others, and love hard. You never know when your sun will set. Life is only right now, bask in its glory.

Culture

I will start this by saying I know I am lucky, loved, healthy, and have the world by a string. I wake up most days with a huge smile on my face, knowing that I can accomplish anything. I am young and my face is symmetrical. When I look at my life I see a whole lot of goodness and bliss. My family, friends, and cats are incredible and I even love all of my jobs. My glass is half full.

Then there are those rare days where the sun just refuses to shine. You feel suddenly old and ugly, flawed and hopeless – completely unlovable. The demons you try so hard to help others fight off creep into your own thoughts. Those stupid fucking bad days seem to be longer than every good one combined. Today I am having one of those god awful days. The glass is still half full, just now it’s full of shit.

I think it is partially due to the seasonal affective disorder: I crave sunshine. I need my long dresses, bare legs and feet, no underwear or bra, just long flowery flowing freedom. I’ve been aching, slightly1926223_10102348672233968_6553281700865224625_o sick for months. My skin is dry and awful. I just don’t feel sexy when it’s gloomy. There is a happiness solar panel on my head that needs to be charged ASAP.

 

I also think the forthcoming spring is a little intimidating. It makes me think of love in the air and people having picnics with their lovers in the park. I am single by choice, but I still miss the simple joy of waking up next to someone. Having kisses and a cup of coffee waiting for you when you wake up is lovely. If I truly wanted a lover, I know there are at least a few people waiting to be mine. Sadly it’s not that easy. We never love the ones who openly profess their undying love for us. It’s the ones who are hard to get, the ones who show distance, the ones who challenge us: those are the ones we really want.

I try not to dwell on the things that make me sad. I know that I do hold things inside and communicating my feelings is not my strong suite. I do a lot for others. I aim to be the person that you know will always have your back no matter what and be the voice of the voiceless and fight the good fight. I think everyone is good at the core. I root for the misguided; I forgive people without question; and give everyone the benefit of the doubt. In my quest to give others happiness, I often forget to leave some of that passion and happiness behind for myself.

I was really taken aback when comedian Robin Williams took his own life. He was someone who exuded confidence and caused so much laughter. Being funny doesn’t mean you are happy. It is unfortunately common for comedians to suffer from depression. It makes sense to me, people who are funny do it as a defense. I think about all of the celebrities who died before their time due to drug addiction or self affliction and it’s horribly sad. What’s the point of making it, if it’s so lonely at the top? Minds that create astounding beauty are also capable of making tragic darkness. You can accomplish all of your dreams and still feel emptiness, what’s left to strive for if you have everything?

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I am a performer. We make the world laugh instead of being the butt of jokes ourselves. I know that I have always laughed to hold back tears. You get really good at hiding the sadness and the rest of the world only sees the bright light you choose to exude. Mental illness runs in my family – I often wonder if I have multiple personalities that just get a chance to exist on stage, then they can’t haunt me in my everyday life.

When I am on stage the sad thoughts melt away, nothing hurts, I own the crowd’s attention, and I feel true success for the 3 minutes I am up there. I pour my dark thoughts into my art and it makes me more approachable and relatable. All the time girls tell me I inspire them, I am up there flaunting my imperfections. People think I really have my shit together, that is the furthest from the truth.

I’m doing my best to keep it together and keep on waking up with that smile forward. I will never stop trying to help others deal with this harsh cold world. It’s important to remember that even the happy people get sad sometimes. Nobody is immune to sadness, we just have to keep doing the best we can do to not let it consume our psyche. Never ever take people for granted. Love them fully, hug them often, use your gifts to empower others and remember to leave a little bit of love left for yourself.

Culture

Most girls go gaga for a good beard. The longer, and bushier the better. Hey – I even admit that most of my Tinder swipe lefts are of the furry faced persuasion. Guys love having them, because they can hide behind them (or hide stuff in them). Ron Burgundy and Tom Selleck give a great mustached face, but there is something less pervy uncle and more burly lumberjack about a well groomed beard. Men gain instant sex appeal and credibility once the whiskers and 5’o clock shadows become a full blown beard. But, only the scruffiest manliest men have beards, right? Wrong. Most hipsters, who can grow them, have them these days – along with tattoos and the coolest bicycles. It’s practically a right of passage. Another group of even less manlier men are rocking beards these days – WOMEN!

Bearded ladies have been sideshow attractions in freakshows for years, such as the infamous Josephine Clofullia, Jane Barnell, and Annie Jones of the early 19th century circus circuit. Women who grow natural facial hair often suffer from a hormonal imbalance, usually an androgen excess, poly cystic ovarian syndrome, or a rare genetic disorder called hypertrichosis. Many women are saying fuck electrolysis and waxing, and are now embracing their real beards – face beards and bearded clams alike! By doing this, they challenge beauty standards and societal expectations of what a proper woman should look like. I remember reading about a girl who had a beard by age 11. She was tormented by her peers and even had death threats. She eventually embraced her body hair, and couldn’t be happier, feeling more feminine with it! She will find love because she loves herself. Follow this link to read the full inspirational story of Harnaam Kaur, a young woman who embraces her facial hair.

Then there are the fakers. We wear our whiskers proud, and support charities and women’s rights by becoming beardos. A whiskerina is a female who wears a faux beard. Fake beards are usually crazy and handcrafted monstrosities, made of everything from real human hair or yarn, to moss and flowers or even rubber snakes. Whiskerina competitions started, so that women can have their own voice in the beard competition world, and not just be a side attraction in the male beard world. Watch the story of the First Annual Whiskerina Competition for Breast Cancer Awareness – it’s awesome.

On stage I have done drag for years, and iconic facial hair is a must. I often sport a moustache and 5’oclock shadow, which looks like everybody’s dad. Some other styles I have rocked are the strap on beard (fake hair molded like a beard with a convenient strap that goes around your head that I used for Boobs Ross, my Bob Ross burlesque skit), the sunglasses with dangling mustache, the pencil on (used for the Walter Sobchek chin strap in The Big Lezbowski show I was in), and the most effectively real looking mustache and crepe hair glued to the face with spirit gum. I was even in a music video with my burlesque troupe, The Stripteasers, dedicated to women with moustaches! Check it out here:

I will be competing in an annual beard competition on St. Patrick’s Day at the Essex St Pub in Buffalo, NY. Last year, my friend Melissa Campbell and I arrived at the competition – faces full of fur – and we looked damn fine. We caused a stir just by being there, people didn’t quite know how to handle us. It felt wonderfully empowering. The “real” beards were all very supportive, and gave us great beard stories and advice. It felt like we were allowed into a secret society. Neither of us won, but we were inspired. Because of that fateful day, I now know a little bit more about being a true whiskerina. So, GAME ON BOYS! This year I predict a win for all womankind.

Sex

This winter I grew out my pubic hair and weaved it into a beautiful sweater to keep my ladybits nice and warm. I’m not talking about a merkin here either, which was the name of Victorian pubic wigs used by prostitutes, now by modern Burlesque performers, and actors doing nude scenes. My vagina has just straight up gone rogue in the barren wasteland. The cobwebs just weren’t doing the trick, and every time I spread my legs those pesky tumbleweeds would just roll on out. Even on a good day I do not have the smooth vagina of a twelve-year-old girl, but this is ridiculous. When you have gone far beyond the tasteful 90s bush, and on to a full out thigh beard, you know it has been a while since you last even harbored the possibility of getting laid.

Lack of sex can drive a person absolutely crazy. Sometimes it is easy to just revert to sleeping with an EX – but is that what you really want, EX-SEX? It’s not really a new notch in the bed post, just etching an old one. As long as you have waited long enough and both parties agree to an emotionless romp, it could be a decent option. All the passion with none of the commitment – sign me up! You know each other’s bodies well, and can just do the best part. But usually, I find it just ends in disaster and you remember in an instant why you are not with that person anymore. Just remember to wrap it up before doing the deed, and I don’t advise spending the night after.

Cat with a rubber fist dildo. That’s what they’re for, right?

 

There’s always the Internet. If you REALLY want to get laid, trolling internet sites and phone dating apps is a great way to find like-minded adults (and a wide array of creepers) to satisfy your urges. I have been on my fair share of OKCupid dates with not much success. Usually it’s an instant creepy dick pic, or the person doesn’t quite match up with their profile. But hey, you never know, some people have found success. Again, no glove, no love. Especially since you don’t know the person well.

I have always found the best way to meet someone is not to be looking for them at all. Just work on YOU! Do the things YOU love and are passionate about and the rest will work itself out. Getting out there and participating in all the glorious things life has to offer is what makes everything worthwhile. Get involved with community outreach, paint a mural, work on a community garden, go to poetry readings, check out music, hang out in coffeehouses, play kickball, join a gym, or just do anything that you love! The right person will be there doing the things that you love right with you. You just have to be patient. Patience is a virtue though, so godspeed.

If a warm body is not an option (don’t go for a cold one, necrophilia is gross and unhealthy my friend), throw on some porn and get a sex toy! I myself am not the biggest fan of artificial stimulation – I need everything that goes along with sex. The smells, the sounds, and the touch are really what make it for me. Plus I think that my vibrator is quite possibly the loudest thing on the planet. My roommates must hear it. Its easy to put headphones on to hide the porn moans, but that loud BUZZZZZZZZZ is hard to mask, no matter how many pillows used to muffle it is still pretty intense. Tip: the sex toys that use D batteries or plug into the wall are best used when nobody else is home (or you can always blame it on a loud heating system). I prefer dittling my own skittle manually, but that also takes practice.

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Vibrator ad from the New York Tribune, 1913.

 

Sex toys have been around for a very long time and were initially used by doctors in the Victorian era to cure female patients suffering from “hysteria,” One of the first vibrators was invented in France in 1734, it was called the “Tremoussoir.” Now we have the magic bullet, the Hitachi Magic wand, the Rabbit, Pocket Rockets, and the always frightening Rubber Fist. The options are endless, there are so many shapes, sizes, colors, and designs (ranging from kitschy to uber-realistic) that you will definitely find one that tickles your fancy. Sex toys are nothing to be ashamed of or shy about, many women throw sex toy parties. It’s fun and empowering to get together with the girls, drink wine, and talk about sex toys – much more discrete than going into a store and much more fun than shopping alone online.

Sex is fun, and orgasms are awesome, but it is not the most important thing in your life. If you let the pursuit of sex completely consume you it will lead to nothing but heartache and bad decisions. Be true to yourself and do not settle for anything less than you deserve. Do not let someone take advantage of your desperation (and in turn do not ever take advantage of another person). Just have fun and be safe, let life happen, and enjoy every encounter. Spending time with friends can be more amazing than devoting all of your time to dating and the pursuit of the almighty nookie. Consider this dry spell as an opportunity to focus your energy on what you really love to do with life. The world is your oyster.

Featured photo by Danielle Boris.