Is Three Too Many?

Threesomes...

I've been asked to be a part of a threesome several times in my life. I'm very open minded, I'm very sexual, I'm very attractive and the most important factor when it comes to this: I'm flexible and approachable.

Flexibility and being approachable by no means results in me saying yes.

For the most part, I've been asked to be part of threesomes where the couple wanted me as the visiting third party. Only once did I consider inviting someone else to share the person that I was with. It didn't happen but I considered it long and hard.

Threesomes, people make them sound like so much fun, like it's so easy, like you wake up the next day and you all share pancakes together and giggle over blueberry syrup and coffee... They could be fun...

I was at a concert in San Francisco on Friday night and a couple asked if 'we were open to threesomes cause they are very open minded'... And every single time, I feel a little bit of shock...


*Currently listening to Elevator Love Letter by Stars*

Random + Words.

He doesn't believe the words I say. To him, they're just words. I don't believe the words he says. To me, they're just words.

Where do we meet? Where is the middle?

Am I beginning to allow myself to hope again?


Random: R, S and I are hitting the road today. We're driving up to San Francisco for a concert going on tonight. The Wallpapers are supposed to be amazing live. We'll be making our way back to LA like travelling happy gypsies, stopping wherever, possibly wine-tasting, causing some delicious trouble along the coast... It feels like this is exactly what I need right now: Fresh air and my girls.

See you all on Monday!

*Currently listening to Going in Circles by The Friends of Distinction*

Surprise! And There It Is.

I once told the broadcaster who delivers the goods in technicolor that my favorite poem is Poem Number 20 by Pablo Neruda.

He seemed to be paying attention.

Sometimes, I find myself surprised by the tenacity exhibited by certain people of certain charms.

He leaves encrypted messages, a game we used to play, what feels like a million years ago. And sometimes, I find myself still looking for these messages. And sometimes, I find myself, surprised, to find them there.

And all I can respond is: ♥

Poema, de dos amantes extraños. De dos mundos perdidos. Un poema. Y ellos nunca se han tocado.

*Currently listening to Strangers on a Train by Lovage*

Welcome. Come In. If You'd Like.

I read this somewhere yesterday:

'If what you really want is to come in, please do. The doors are open for you. If you decide you want to leave, it's okay. Time will tell. But if you leave, please leave the door open, there are others who want to come in too.'
-Unknown Source

I can't love you if you don't want to be loved...

A thought crossed my mind: Maybe he's just jaded. Perhaps that's why he wont come in or let me in? Maybe it's just me he doesn't want. Eventually it wont matter anymore.

A post-secret for me. Thank you. Some do want to come in.

*Currently listening to Her Beautiful Ideas by The Guggenheim Grotto*

Love. For No Reason.

♥

My Problem Is Stupid.

So here's my problem: Everything is fine until the cravings kick in. When I've had some of him, I seem to function well. I don't miss anything, I don't feel any uncertainties, the world makes sense and everything moves in a synchronized manner, like the dancers at a cabaret show, in tune, right on the beat, fluid.

I've decided his number will never be on my phone for too long. As soon as a conversation has ended, I delete it. As soon as the last text message has been sent, I get rid of it... So that temptation is never there, so I'm not the first to give in, as to prevent myself from falling into the pit of darkness that comes every time I put my feelings on the line and get shut down. It works on his time and I'm on the side line> I'm almost the observer. I'm not even a character in this story, the story which is in fact mine.

It's like a drug, like a bad habit, like a slow descent into a mess that isn't mine.

'You are my drug. I anticipate seeing you - then I ride the high until you exit my car. The comedown is slow...but it hits hard, waiting for another text message, trying not to call you sounding desperate for a fix. And when I finally break down and call, and you brush me off as sweet as you know how, that's when I crash. And hate myself for craving you like I do.'

- R.C.

Today, it feels like I'm in rehab. I have been doing well. The trick is to be disciplined and keep my emotions and actions in check. The trick is to not let my guard down. The trick is to say no. The trick is not to hope. Hope is an hallucination, a distortion of the truth. He's never going to want what I want, he's never going to be there when I need him to. To hope is to fail. The trick is to believe what I know, that I deserve more, that there's more being offered to me, so I have to look away and take what's coming my way.


*Currently listening to Stylo by Gorillaz*

The Horse & The Sheep

Horse: My favorite word is disingenuous.

Sheep: My favorite word is iridescent.

Horse: I dare you to cut me loose.

Sheep: ¿Sabes que te voy a querer por el resto de mi vida?

Horse: Are we still keeping score?

Sheep: No, I'm just a sheep, The Little Magnificent.

'Toma un segundo para imaginar a un bosque mágico en el que yo te espero en mis sueños. Alli te beso y te pido que te quedes a mi lado. Una estrella distante, pero en el bosque encantado esa estrella se vuelve hombre y ese hombre me toma en sus brazos y me hace suya. No es nada sexual, tu eres mi amigo. Pero en ese bosque te pertenezco completamente. Alli, soy tuya y tu mio, nunca te tengo que perder.

Al amanecer, estoy en mi cama, he dejado el bosque pero tu sigues en mis pensamientos. Pienso en la estrella. Y en la caricias cálidas que han quedado en mi piel.'

- El Bosque Encantado, MNJG

*Currently listening to Maybe Tomorrow by Pretty Lights*

It's Just How It Is.

On my 30th birthday, I gifted myself with quitting cigarettes. It’s been a week and I haven’t missed it. I keep thinking I’ll feel the cravings at any given moment but they haven’t yet come. I guess some things are meant to be.

On the other hand, I’ve found myself missing something I never had to begin with. Why do I miss him? In my logical mind, it just doesn’t make sense. But then again, I wanted it to be… But I guess some things are not meant to be.

My life will change today and I am prepared for whatever may come. Whatever is of no use will have to go, maybe not immediately, for I’m not that strong, but it will definitely happen and in the meantime, those who do want to be of use, get closer and closer… I feel like I’m ready to accept all the good.

Goodness isn’t a reward, it is simply what I deserve.



*Currently listening to Islands by The XX*

Blue. Very Blue.

I thought that maybe if I was sweet and patient that would make a difference. I was told to communicate how I felt every step of the way, that was advice given to me by a dear friend, she said ‘he can’t read your mind so always tell him how you feel’. I did.

I told him how I felt every step of the way.

I backed up when I felt like he might need some space. I was there when it felt like he might need a friend. I gave it my best.

This doesn’t happen often. I’m used to taking and not giving until I feel safe. He never made me feel safe but I wanted him anyway. I wanted him deeply.

I also knew this day would come. When enough should be enough. I didn’t ask for much, but nothing is not acceptable, not when I have given so much.

I thought but I was wrong. Blue doesn’t suit me and I can’t see clearly with all these tears in the way.

Blue, please turn yellow, like the sun, missing on this dark, gloomy day.



*Currently listening to Love Me or Leave Me by Billie Holiday*

When Things Were Simple.

Every summer, my parents would put me on a plane to Colombia where I would spend 3 glorious months with my grandma and uncle. I remember the careless days of dance classes at the local dance studio, playing hide and seek with the kids on the street, eating hotdogs sitting on the front yard and swimming until my fingers were prune-like. My cousins would spend the weekends with me and every Sunday, the whole family would go to our family’s country home where we’d gather for lunch together, usually sancocho, fritanga, asadito and refajo.

Every year that came, as we got closer to the summertime, my excitement would grow. I loved those summers in Colombia, I loved the carelessness, although back then, I didn’t know what being careless was at all.

Eventually everything changed. At the age of 12, I was sent to Colombia to go to school and experience high school there, and then came college and my return to the States, eventually I moved out on my own, there was the matter of my identity, Who am I? What do I want for my life? Love, bills, men, sex, a career, a job, social responsibilities, ethical choices, moral survival.

Other times were more simple, but I wont say today isn’t more exciting.

Cheers to the world, my world.


*Currently listening to Better Thing by Passion Pit*

You Will Be. Dead. To Me. One Day.

'It's nothing but time and a face that you lose

I chose to feel it and you couldn't choose
I'll write you a postcard
I'll send you the news
From a house down the road from real love...'

- Stars, Your Ex Lover is Dead

'I'm releasing it to the universe', that's what my amazing boss told me today when I asked her how things were going with her current love pursuit. It is how it should be. It will take care of itself. Whatever should be, shall be.

I feel like I have reached clarity. Finally. It shall be.



*Currently listening to The Last Day of Our Love by The Bird and The Bee*

She Loves Me. I Love Her. It's Complicated.

I'm having a hard time.

My mother hovers. She loves me. She wants nothing but the best for me. I am bright and capable and she expects a lot from me. She wants me to make the choices she'd make and to want the life she feels I should have. A life that perhaps she would have wanted for herself.

I do understand.

I am 30 years old and I've been on my own for 10 years. Unlike the average young adult, I didn't leave my parents to go to college. They left me so I could stay in college. They moved to another state, I stayed in California. I stayed behind.

I have been making my own choices from a very early age. I'm very independent. I like to do things my way. I like to take responsibility for my present and decide what will be my future.

My lifestyle isn't open to negotiations. I know it's not a lifestyle for everyone but it's my choice. I'm okay with it. I'm happy living like I do. I don;t care what anyone thinks or says about it. Except for her.

Except for her. So at what point do I draw the line? At what point do I move on and let things be?

This movie totally reminds me of my Mom

*Currently listening to Solition by Pitch Black*

I'm Okay. You'll Be Too.

I wanted to sleep. Sleep furiously. That reminds me of a line I read somewhere. I can't remember where.

I didn't sleep. Instead, I drifted to a place where I could see myself, where I could analyze things.

I like what I saw.

My world is going to be okay.



*Currently listening to Check Yo Self by Ice Cube*

He Is A Ghost.

At one point, I checked and I discovered that this blog had become about him, at least 90% of it.

Who ‘he’ is doesn’t matter. “Him’ has changed from time to time.

I tend to think I’m in love. I tend to have sporadic obsessions. Once the novelty is gone, I look back and realize it wasn’t love. Every single time, I fool myself on purpose. I need to know that I can feel something; that I’m not as cold as I’ve been told to be, as I know I am, sometimes.

‘Him” this time has been a little different than the others. I was told this: ‘The only reason why you’re so crazed by him is because he’s not gaga over you like the others have’… Perhaps.

But I have felt. I have loved. Perhaps I have never been in love. I haven’t. I think I would know. I have loved but I have never been in love. That sounds about right.

So what if this is not an obsession? What if this is really love? I can’t be sure yet. All I know is that if this is in fact love, this one is going to be a painful one. But perhaps it’s not love.

Or maybe it is, and I will feel pain, for the first time I will feel the ache claimed to be caused by love, and in that case, perhaps I’ll eventually have enough and move on.

Perhaps.

But this isn’t about him or ‘him’ or anyone. This one is about me. It’s an acknowledgment. Of what? I am not sure. Lately nothing comes into focus. Lately, I don’t know anything. Certainty has become a phantom and I want it to come into shape, into my tangible world. Certainty is what I want the most right now.

Certainty sounds so sweet.

Dulce.

Completely unrelated but funny?

*Currently listening to Home by Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros*

El Baño Del Cura

En un monasterio había un sacerdote que acostumbraba bañarse todas las noches en su tina, ayudado por una hermana religiosa, quien había sido educada en la misión de ayudar al padre en lo que necesitara, durante su baño cotidiano.

Una mañana la hermana se encuentra con la Madre Superiora, y le dice: Madre, ¡He sido salvada!

¿Pero cómo ha ocurrido tan magno evento, querida hija?

Anoche, mientras ayudaba al padre José con su baño, él tomó mi mano y la llevó hasta su entrepierna, y me dijo que esa era la llave del cielo y que sería necesario probarla con mi cerradura para ver si se abren las puertas del paraíso para ser salvada.
La Madre Superiora dice: ¡Viejo desgraciado! ¿Y qué más pasó?

Bueno, probamos la cerradura, él me dijo que al principio dolería un poco, porque el camino al cielo era difícil y doloroso, pero que al final sentiría un gran placer.
Dice la Madre Superiora: ¡Viejo hijueputa! Y a mí que me tenía engañada con que era la trompeta del Arcángel San Gabriel, y se la estoy soplando desde hace 20 años.

Moraleja: La salvación viene en todas las formas, colores y cuentos clandestinos...

*Courtesy of Loredana*



*Currently listening to the click, click, click of my coworker starting her work day*

The Beginning & Some More

The first time I had sex I was 17 years old. I was a month away from turning 18 so when I tell the story I usually just say I was 18. It doesn’t make a difference; I don’t know why I put it that way.

He was tall; his body was lean and defined, the kind of body that is simply that way. He had a beautiful smile. My parents were out of town visiting our old country home and I was home alone.

He asked if he could spend the night with me. He was leaving the country the next day, for a year, to live as an exchange student. I said yes. I knew what was coming. He followed me to my room and we undressed. It all lasted about 10 minutes. He was gentle but diligent in his conquest. I didn’t climax. He said it was wonderful. I thought: ‘Gee, sex is overrated’.

The next times were much better. It didn’t happen until months later with the boy who was to become my first boyfriend. Now that I look back, the sex wasn’t mind-blowing, we were both inexperienced (I more than him) and we had few moments for ourselves. We were creative though and it was exciting. It was fantastic, not mind blowing but fantastic nonetheless. He was also the first man I ever loved. It was so right.

I haven’t had too many lovers but numbers are relative when it comes to this, I know. I’m far more liberal at sharing kisses than sharing the whole package. Whatever works, right? This has worked for me.

Down the line, there have been great experiences and bland ones. Some I remember vividly. I’ve said to myself, ‘Wow, this is fucking amazing’. I’ve discovered that I love sex. I’ve discovered what my body can feel. I’ve also learned the difference between sex with love and loveless desire. I can say I’ve liked and enjoyed both. Love and sex don’t live together but they visit each other sometimes…

The best thing here: I’m barely turning 30, and this is supposed to be when it all gets better! Better! Since it’s all been so good this far, I’m really excited about EVEN better!



*Currently listening to Blue by We Are Wolves*

Be Kind. Kiss The World.

'Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle'

- Plato

I read that quote today. A dear friend of mine post it as her facebook status. I used to be a hard practitioner of doing on to other as I wished done onto me, of not judging, on giving people the benefit of the doubt, on allowing my thoughts to be used on good instead of bad. But this is hard. It's so easy to judge, it's so easy to make assumptions. It's so easy to get carried away by insecurities and social concepts... I haven't been kind.

Thank you Plato, thank you Valerie, thank you facebook, thank you fate.

Sometimes, a reminder is all that's needed to get back on track.

Kisses to the world!

PS: I'm feeling sick, I have a cold, my heart feels tender and my mojo is weak... I'm still a happy little great person, just give me some lovin' through the wave-lines. I'll send you more magical kisses.



*Currently listening to Madrigal by Danny Rivera (BTW - This song makes me think of a very, very special someone)*

What I Want Is Here.

I want to make a difference. I want to be more than a mechanism that processes oxygen, eats and sleeps. I want to be more than the ultimate party girl. I want to be more than pretty. I want to be more than funny.

One of the main reasons why I started BluShoppe was to be able to give back. To put a little of what so generously has been given to me back into the world. I've done some good but there's a lot of work to be done. Seven by Two will be a continuum of goodness. It will mark the road for worthy crusades. Vince and I will forfeit high horses and walk along the side of anyone who will want to make a difference with us. Our worlds are beautiful. There's so much to give.

I want to be great, the greatness I have chosen is filled with light and happiness for myself and others. I want to be able to put a smile on your soul.

I want to be useful. Cooking, computing, spitting out reports, dancing 'till the morning sun and blow jobs aren't the only thing I do well.

I want to be here. In this place, at this moment, with all of me, in the real, tangible time.



*Currently listening to Love You Madly by Ella Fitzgerald*

The Horse. Alley Cats & Whiskers.

I was thinking of dodging alley cats and whiskers today... Sweet, sweet memories... There once was a horse that captured my attention and shook my soul.



*Currently listening to The Other Side by Scissor Sisters*

Three Men, Sex & Lyrics

Three Men & Sex -

There are three men in my life that I adore with all my heart. Special men. Men who have touched my life, my heart, my mind somehow. Two of these men are currently my best and dearest of friends, there's a third man, who is a man I could love forever, he's probably, according to my idea of the ideal man, the perfect man.

I believe one of biggest reasons why I get along so well with these three incredibly special men is because of the lack of sex. Perhaps I'm wrong. The thought occurred to me yesterday, when while picking up groceries and thinking of these three wonderful guys, I realized that the one thing there is in common is that I have never had sex with any of them. Sex complicates things...


On Lyrics -

Today, I stumbled upon a song I had never heard before, it was playing in the background and a line came into my auditive focus, making me stop what I was doing to pay attention to the lyrics... I wish I could feel that way sometimes and in a while I feel that a part of me does...

'Okay so I was wrong about
My reasons for us fallin’ out
Of love I want to fall back in

My life is different now I swear
I know now what it means to care
About somebody other than myself

I know the things I said to you
They were untender and untrue
I’d like to see those things undo

So if you could find it in your heart
To give a man a second start
I promise things won’t end the same

Shame, boatloads of shame
Day after day, more of the same
Blame, please lift it off
Please take it off, please make it stop

Okay so I have read the mail
The stories people often tell
About us that we never knew

But their existence will float away
And just like every word they say
And we will hold hands as they fade

I felt so sure of everything
My love to you so well received
And I just strutted around your town
Knowing I didn’t let you down
The truth be known, the truth be told
My heart was always fairly cold
Posing to be as warm as yours
My way of getting in your world
But now I’m out and I’ve had time
To look around and think
And sink into another world
That’s filled with guilt and overwhelming shame'

- Shame, The Avett Brothers

*Currently listening to Percussion Gun by White Rabits*