Colour me surprised

I can hack it!I had my first bad sex experience; I have not one good thing to say about the exercise. I am honestly surprised, even with myself, I can usually find one redeemable quality about sex but not this time.

Some people  might internalize a bad experience, that it was something they did or didn’t do, but I had honestly given the whole thing my best go; positive feedback during and playfully suggestiveness to no avail. It was the same speed, pace and powerdrive movement the whole time, no matter how I moved or changed things up, it was all he knew.

It was bad 15 minutes in but I also held out hope things could be salvaged. My friend had planned to spend the night so I thought it might make things a bit awkward if I put a stop to it and asked him to sleep on the couch. For the first time in my life, I faked an orgasm. In my defense I had too, it became clear the kind of sexual personality he had and I just wanted it over. We aren’t sexually compatible and that’s okay, no need to hurt his feelings.

Personality, even if it is just for one night or three hours, does play a part. He is a buddy, we do hang out, but I must say the bad sex has somewhat changed that dynamic. Not because I think less of him but now I have to keep turning down his forward advances and worse of all – he asks and talks about it.

Him: Sex is the one thing I am naturally good at.


Him: I’m great in bed. Admit it.

Me: I heard you say that while you were watching yourself in the mirror. It was memorable moment for me like American Psycho without Sussudio playing.

Him: See. I knew you loved it.

Yeah, I want to tell you he is funny and that is his sense of humour but no. No. He’s serious and yes he really did change position on the bed so he could watch himself in the mirror and he said “God. I’m so fucking hot”  I shouldn’t laugh but I am. By that point in I was already trying to figure out a computer issue I was having so I kind of giggled and that’s when I decided to fake an orgasm.

I got up and took a shower without much of a care if he was done or not. I kind of felt bad, not bad enough to help him finish off any other way, but I kind of didn’t care. I was so focused on trying to not be me, mean or have my face give away what I was thinking that I overlooked the possibility of morning sex.

Yeah, I can however say something good about morning sex; it was quick.

Friends with benefits without the sexual benefits.

I have never been to Kansas

3312242030_b05f4790c5I can be in the midst of a deep thought about my lover and notice a new white hair in my husband’s beard and switch gears to take in that moment and smile. It can be weird, having your mind on someone you have a great fondness for while in the room with another, but if I did not come to find a way to prioritize things it would end in disaster.

One of my top priorities is my marriage, to ensure that my husband is not on the receiving end of something I am going through with someone else.  Sorry let me rephrase that; one of my top priorities is to ensure my husband is not subject to something negative not of his doing but he is often the one to benefit from the good. Better.

Some people like to throw around the sentiment that love is about the good and the bad times, yes that is true I could not agree more. However I have chosen to multiply that by two or three, my husband is very much an arbiter of my personal fulfillment and like a good salesmen I take care to ensure the good is ten times better than the bad. Sometimes I have to swallow the suck and wear a smile – I chose this and it’s not his fault, not even I would live with a husband moping around over someone else.

Oh I could argue that being in love with more than one person at a time is perfectly reasonable, natural even, but the navigation and execution of it is nothing short of self-discipline and training. I am not faking a smile, I am choosing to put myself where I need to be and there is plenty to smile about.

I have NEVER denied my husband sex, hand to God. I have been in full REM cycle and if that is when he comes to bed and I find a hand under my night shirt, so be it. I am not a sexual slave to his needs by any means, trust that I run the three ring circus around here, but I actually do love and desire my husband above all others.

We are not always going to be at the race gate the exact same moment, and there are times I really really want to have sex with him and he is either at work or too tired from work or not feeling well. I would be a fool to push him away just because I have a bit of drool on my chin (in fact he might like that I dont know).

There are huge parts of me that are jaded when it comes to customary relationships and sex; I have heard my father bemoan my mother for ‘not wanting it’ and how often do I read ‘sexless marriage’. I know it happens but I will be damned if my husband thinks for one second I do not want to have sex with him or worse he thinks I don’t want too because I have already fucked someone else. Being with someone else fuels my desires for my husband it does not take away and the proof is I never deny us sex with each other.

It’s not romantic but we have a saying around here, pussy does not wear out, cock however you sometimes only get one shot. Oh come now, smile, its true! I would be ungrateful to turn down a perfectly respectable hard on regardless of the hour.

I am sure it is difficult to be my husband or boyfriend on the best of days but when you are in love with a second man, and there has been a misunderstanding or hes blue, how do you ensure that does not come home with you?

You don’t, it comes home with you.

This is not like a bad day at the office where you get to bitch to your mate and toss a few plates around with their sympathy. If I brought my other relationship issues in to my marriage my husband would look at me and say ‘enough’ because my lover is not paying the bills so he, my husband, doesn’t need to suck it up and deal.

I love my second partner as ardently as my first, I am empathetic to what he is going through but I have to always be situational aware, and if I am at home with my husband than that is where I need to be. The average person believes they can multitask and I do not for a moment condone multitasking people or their feelings and it is wrong to make someone in a relationship miserable for the actions of another.

I do have a choice to communicate an issue with my husband but I cannot control the outcome of his reaction – I have to assess the ‘issue’ is it worth communicating to my husband, there is no guarantee of his reaction and there are not many husband’s out there that want to be the ear a girl talks too about another guy. It’s a delicate balance of diplomacy for all involved (my second might not want my husband to know and heaven forbid I change the way in which my husband sees my lover).

The Good Doctor was spectacular in this regard, he was often my confident about my secondary lover, and there were times where it was the Good Doctor who defended the actions of a secondary lover and sway me to forgiveness. Yeah he was that spectacular and he is held in higher regard for it.

I don’t know how others experience fulfillment but for me I overflow with a kind of good that makes me want to grab other people and share with them – it’s not sexual. I laugh more, I smile more, I am lighter. When my little triad exists and is working, even the stray cats benefit! When it is just me and my husband I still feel content, I look at my husband and we are still here, happy and together.

None of it was a dream.


Gut Feelings

ccfbghGut feelings, also known as fight or flight instincts, are our primal 911 call, our first responders, our flashlight into the dark unknown .

I know people that say ‘I had a gut feeling that something was going to happen’ but then I ask ‘why did you ignore it?’ and I rarely get a logical answer as to why they did.

If before we did anything we received a text message telling us of the horrible outcome in any given situation, I bet more than 50% of the people I know would still choose to do that thing anyway – it is in our human nature to believe our power over our destiny. However when it comes to securing our own safety we time and time again ignore the warning signs.

Enter Moi – my gut instinct are good, strong and I listen to them all the time. Do I talk myself back from them? Sure, I try, but inevitably I must give in to risk awareness; if I chose to ignore what I know to be happening then I am doing this to myself. I cannot blame the wine, the guy, my husband, the universe of for those that believe in a God. I know better.

I do however have a sadistic side to me and sometimes want to see what the long game is or rather was – how long this person is willing to commit to this lie, how much of the web are they going to spin. It is not one of my better qualities, to watch someone hang themselves, slowly and painfully under the belief that they game is working on me but only rarely do I give in to this instinctual urge and I usually get tired and give up long before I get an answer.

Now I must also consider I could be wrong – how are gut feelings proven wrong if we do not stick around to see them come to prove out and by sticking around while being insincere are we in fact creating the ‘guttural’ outcome; for every action there is a reaction.

Something is wrong with this guy, we are going to call him ARS, and I cannot put my finger on it. He talks to me, nothing but sweetly and kind, but my insides are screaming RUN! Can gut instinct detect a sociopath (having been raised by one) and my instinct deter me from a narcissist having survived working for one, before my brain can recognize them?

You bet it fucking can, this has nothing to do with the brain or logic, this is nature at its best, this is survival on the Serengeti, this is experience – so fucking run.


The Best of Both Worlds



I am Canadian, married to an American.

Our first date was on the Fourth of July; my first ever 4H tractor pull in the bible belt of the great US of Eh.

I had celebrated Canada Day with other friends in more different surroundings days before, so for me the days are now a combined ultra patriotic fest with friends and family. More importantly it is also reflective.

I like to tease my American friends about the War of 1812, which most of them never heard of but I simply refer them to the Liberty Bell for proof it really took place. I take the chance to be all Canadian and lay down the knowledge that in 1775 the US Revolutionary War had made it’s way to the Northern Maritime and for a while the US occupied Montreal before invading Quebec. I let them take the opportunity in turn to make fun of me for saying ‘aboot’

I remember my first year in the US, I had questioned what I had done. People assumed because I was a smart white girl that spoke a form of English that I would just slide into an easy life and fit in. I didn’t – it was fraught with tears, social confusion and isolation but through it I had my partner.

The subtleties are small but big enough when it comes to morals and ethics – I truly believe we want the same things for ourselves, our countrymen and our kids but the way in which we go about them are drastically different. It is no different than my marriage, it has some well defined borders and other missing all together but at the end of the day the state of my marital union is what matters most.

I am really fortunate to be of both worlds, to know both countries intimately and have those options to express that much more love for the people I call my own. My status as a human being on this planet is simply of one trying to navigate the world in which I live, beyond and within national borders, it is no different than my finding fulfillment in my plural relationships.

Perhaps it is this immigration experience that has also had an effect on how I have changed my approach to a secondary partner, to maintain my Canadian identity while forming an American one takes a lot of deliberation, commitment and forgiveness. I must be both wife and lover to two different people but in the middle is always me and I have to remember I am from a different experiences and I must take care to remember the little things do add up.

I know who I am, every day I am able to look myself in the mirror and be okay with what I see and I approach every day as a call to endless possibilities. I didn’t ever think I would be here but yet here I am, happy.

Happy Canada Day and Independence Day.

Washing Bone



There are some people you can not wash away no matter how deep you stand in the water and no matter the number of long showers you take. Some people are so unimpressive they simply slide off the surface of my skin barely a memory. Then there are those that leave an imprint so deep it becomes engrave on bone, and you cannot wash bone free of its marks. Should bone break and in time come to heal there is evidence of the injury that remains, so too I carry the proof of those I once loved and that loved me. A secret is never meant to be obvious and worn on the surface for all to see. Slowly, a little every day, I let him take up room deep within to carve a new story of love that will confound even the most brilliant anthropologist long after I am gone should they dig up my bones to read.


You’re sick.

Farm-Skanks       Yes, yes I am.

I so rarely come under the weather that I have yet to develop an adult like coping system for being sick. I once ran a fever and wondered why my girlfriends were not at my bedside praying over me. I was serious.

My threshold for pain tolerance is high and I should be paying more attention to the signs that I need assistance in healing. I honestly thought I had only shattered this tooth a few  months ago – it has been far longer. I put the discomfort aside for more important things so there is no wonder the root is pissed off at me. And vengeful.

Giving in to it all I have decided to take pain medication – hence lack of wordage. I am kind of  a lightweight and these things are kicking my ass. I entertained the idea of sex on opioid pain medication for 4.5 seconds and was distracted by pretty colours and the glowbugs outside my window.

I am really not passing judgement on anyone who gets messed up on drugs and has sex high like this but I cannot even contemplate what joy there would be in this for me, high, pliable, drooling, happy, silent, fuzzy, smiling, slow …

Oh wait, it would be about his joy.

Fuck that.

Send me the link!

I get really nervous when someone I am intimate with asks me to share the link to porn I am watching. First I feel that they might assume I am watching Martha Stewart get it on with a group of Japanese investors or one of those ‘made by girls for girls’ things; that is an assumption on my part. I mean you guys know a lot of girls are down right gross and dirty right?


Secondly I feel the need to send a warning, like begging in advance ‘please don’t hate me’ and I feel that if I need to ask someone to promise me something before I share it, its not a good sign. Either I am going to trust them or not – that comes with the possibility of them blocking me from any future contact and sending Jehovah to my door with a car full of Mormons.

Then I work up the guts to send something in the middle of my private treasure chest collection because thirdly, and this is a big deal, if they respond back they like it and want to try it it might change how i feel about them. I know; don’t judge me but I am going to judge you.

If I am not gagging, turned on and pissing myself laughing while watching it, its not porn to me!

I collect some rare oddities, I have no idea why a white woman ridding a black mans cock whilst eating a turkey drum stick is pleasing to me, but it is. Nor have I gone out and purchased a turkey drum stick but its one of my prized clips and it is rated tame in my pile of goodies.

Maybe I am nervous that if they like it and we try something I might like it. I mean it could bring a whole new tradition to thanksgiving dinners at the Chateau.

P.S. I would watch Martha with a group of guys while she bakes cookies.