Recently I was considering a post on shaving – not my face, but more on that later. It feels like a relevant topic – I mean this is a blog addressing issues of my sexuality. But shaving seems so personal and graphic. Does anyone really care?
As I pondered this question, I received an e-mail to my “blog” account from The Rabbit Lady. Now I do not know any Rabbit Ladies – for that matter, I do not know any rabbits, but I am not easily fazed. It seems that the rabbit lady is in the vibrator business – judging from the link, not your run of the mill sleaze store models, but a veritable cornucopia of works of art. Rabbit Lady is smart – she wants me to try one hoping (actually I gave a pinky swear) that I will share my happiness with all of you.
Of course there is one little hitch that I envision: all of those vibrators have a really cool looking attachment which I will enjoy when I grow a clit. Well, maybe not. I do have a wife and this is a product for women. So the newest excitement in my life is will the beauty of the product win out over the difficulty of explaining how this item arrived at our front step. I should add that my female confidant assures me that this is the product to have and the gift to give, and while I have no personal knowledge, I am betting she does have that little clit thing going.
So I have done it – I have both met my pinky promise and gotten back to some of the basics here. Because I realize that there is another S word or two that need to be on the table – self-importance and self-absorption. I do take pride in my writing – every word – and I do consider the meaning of my journey: too much I suspect. But at the end of the day this is simply a blog by a struggling bi-sexual man – a bi-sexual adulterer as one person recently coined the phrase. So while I cannot help myself always, I will try to remember what this is all about.
This brings me back to the first S word of the day: Shaving. Many years back I had shaved once – a mutual pact within a marriage. It was fun, it was sexy, but for reasons unknown to me, it was short-lived. Unless tended to, it does grow back. Over the course of the past year, the length of this leg of my journey, I have thought about shaving. Some of the guys I have been with were shaved and it was pretty hot. But what to say: Carrie I am sleeping with guys behind your back and I think they would be turned on if I shave those pubes. I don’t think so.
Then the opportunity presented itself – a wild night on vacation and the suggestion we try it again. Maybe I was guilty of a little intellectual dishonesty, but I had my chance. And it was exciting. So it is now the morning after, I am shorn, and Carrie and I are back into our little or no sex holding pattern which currently masquerades as my sex life. And I consider do I continue shaving. It is something she will notice on occasion; she will on some level realize that this is an ode to my gay side.
I consider this and realize that this little act gives me pleasure. There is the physical pleasure in the doing; there is a pleasure both physical in psychic in the feel of it. But most importantly it is a statement to me that even if I foreswear sleeping with men, return home to the hearth, that I will never go back into that emotional closet. I am bi/gay. The world does not need to know, but I do not mind reminding myself.