At least I'm consistent

Ironic.  The last time I blogged, it was about OKCupid.  Last night I got back onto that insidious site, and today I decided to, once again, get back onto my wild Twitter site, and my blog.  I'm going to have to call this a trend, I suppose.

It's funny how I circle into and out of these phases of wanting to be social then wanting to be alone.  It's also intriguing to me that when I go into the social phase, I move instinctively back into the habits, roles, and identities which are most familiar, even if they no longer serve me in the same way  (I'm sure that my 14 Twitter followers have been anxiously awaiting my Twitter return, BTW!)

I'm sadly inconsistent.  And I continue to feel as if I'm living two lives.  In my spiritual practice I'm working to integrate the separate pieces of my life. I've had a false belief that the inconsistency somehow has served to keep me safe.  It's a prickly wall of protection.  It keeps me from being fully visible in the world, but it also separates me, from myself, from truth, and from other beings.

It's time to practice something different and I suspect it won't be very comfortable.  But, if I can't own all the way through all of me, what can I ever truly have?

Catalog shopping

So, I've tried and tried to close out the OKCupid account, but in the same way mosquitoes go headlong into the zapper light, I'm finding myself being hopelessly sucked in.  I even posted some new pics tonight and made a few more answers "public," though the sex questions remain unanswered... or private.  Of course, after the pics and new questions went up my message boards went silent.  *deep sigh*  They were even good pictures, as pictures of me go.

I can't help but feel a little "cheapened" by sites like these.  I think I'd have an easier time coming across some horrible video of myself on a slutty porn hub site, honestly.  At least there would be no question about any of the viewers intentions.  When I roll my mouse over picture after picture, read profile after profile, I feel like I'm looking through a catalog, perusing the descriptions of each item as if I could add it to my cart and pay for it with paypal. Saying this probably won't make me popular, especially with any of those folks who really DO google before they go out.  But anyone who has participated on one of these dating sites and has NOT felt this way, is probably not someone I'm interested in dating anyway.  That will be the guy who is taking this whole "true love" thing too seriously.

And yet, the zapper blinks and tantalizes me.  The red flags are waving so high and flapping so hard in the wind with some of these people that I'm afraid I'll lose a limb if I get too close, and yet I still find myself searching for the perfect comments in order to keep the conversations rolling.

*crickets*

How did we come to this?  I'm serious.  How did our society turn into this safely distant, mail-order-romance-just-like-the-movies-frantic-peruse-all-the-options (until 3am) place where no one is really safe, accepted, or ... well.... known.  Everyone seeking to be known, and no one is really known.

I keep myself fit, and am seeking the same.  Love camping, hiking, and being in nature.  Hoping to find that  one person I can connect with on a deep, personal level.  Looking for someone who accepts me for who I am.  Seeking the love of my life.  No drama, please.

No drama.

It makes me kind of sad.  I'm not sad for these brave people who at least are putting themselves out there (getting their goods into the catalog).  I'm sad that this is how it is done. I'm sad that this is the option we all turn to.  I don't want to catalog shop for a mate.  Really. And I don't really want to advertise my wares. And, yet, as I've already noted, there is some kind of thrill in this whole thing that drives me closer to the light each evening.

I should probably find a sponsor, and just admit this is out of my hands.
;)

Sweet Avalyne.. the life giver.

So, I thought I was being pretty sneaky when I set up this blog under my gmail name. It also happens to be a URL name I've used for years on Yahoo and more recently on a Twitter account. Because my actual name doesn't appear anywhere public in any of these places, I was pretty sure that I could stay comfortably closeted while still writing about my personal experiences. I've used Avalyne as a little cover identity when wandering the Internet on poly sites and other bi, and sex-positive blogs, commenting here and there with a hope of maintaining some anonymity. Of course, that's ridiculous. This is the internet. And, as I mentioned, I've used this name for years. I've Googled my actual name many times over the years, curious to see what prospective employers and potential stalkers might find, and I have been pleased to note that aside from a poem I published and a few comments on a poetry forum I participated in a few years back, nothing significant shows up.Whew. Safe.

And then, my delusional little "safety" bubble burst.  Last week, after years of hearing people's comments about their experiences on OK Cupid, I got curious and decided to check it out.  I'll be honest, I'm not  ready to date yet and I stated that I'm just looking for "friends." To drive the point home, I've listed "overweight" as my body type (which it is) and have refused to answer or make public any of the sex-related questions. I mean, seriously, if I wanted that kind of date, I'd reopen my old Swingular account. pffhh!

So far, I've had only one email from a guy asking if I was going to post a picture (at least he didn't waste my time with small talk!).  If you can't tell, I'm a dating site cynic, and to use my grandma's phrase, I'm "full of vinegar" when it comes to these internet dating deals.  I find them so annoying and stressful, in fact, that I had a full day of little anxiety attacks the day after I created my profile. My anxiety was made worse on the second night when one of the questions asked if I liked to Google a potential date before going out. I got the bright idea to Google Avalyne68.  Oops.  Up came a full list of references to me, my full name, my history, my old MySpace page, etc.  In fact, some website which asks for money to find people you are looking for, has pulled a not-so-great pic of me from somewhere, created a full profile of me, and apparently lists where I live and where I work.  Fabulous.  On top of all that, this blog, my Twitter account, and my Yahoo account, all those accounts which do not list my name, came popping up right along with the sites which do. There's no getting around it.  My name is associated with all my nutty history.  So, hey.  I guess I'm much more "out" than I'd hoped.  I guess it's a good thing that I'm not planning to run for President anytime soon!  (And, it's also a good thing that most of my family and friends know a lot about my life)!!

But, as I sat staring at the long list of wild links, all associated with a name I'd just signed up with on a dating site, I couldn't help wondering:  "What if I ever want to "pass?"  Okay, my bi and gay friends, before you throw tomatoes, you have to admit, I'm not the only person in the world who has fantasized about this.  What if, for instance, I wanted to date some nice, straight, stable, healthy, spiritual guy who might even possibly be interested in settling down for a quiet, healthy, grow-old-together life? What if I wanted to date a  prominent business man, or even a nice, wealthy CEO (and I don't mean in order to be his weekend bi-sexual fantasy--but what if I actually wanted to DATE him?).  What if he wanted to take me home to meet his elderly (because I'm not so young anymore, myself) parents, and some extended family member decided to Google me?  I suppose I could go through and systematically close all my accounts. I could reopen accounts under a different name.  I could eliminate all traces of Avalyne.  Honey Sweet Avalyne.  For some reason, I'm loathe to do that.

Avalyne is a handle I've used since before I divorced, since before I came out, since before I even knew who I was.  She was the life giver, a healer, pulled from a limited-edition Larry Elmore print. A woman whose magic could possibly save the dying man she touched.  She was me, separating from my husband of nine years, in my first year of nursing school, struggling to deal with my fears, my sorrow, the crazy stirrings of my feelings for the first woman I ever allowed myself to love.  Avalyne is my alter ego.  It has never been a stranger she was healing.  It was always me. I'm not hiding behind miss Avalyne.  I am her.  And, I'm not sure that I'm ready to put her to rest, yet.

And, I'm not sure that I'll ever again be able to "pass."  This is how it often is for me now.  I can't undo my history.  I can't (and don't want to) hide it.  But, I'm also not sure that I want to wave the banner for it anymore.  I'm tired. And I find myself longing for a normalcy that I used to believe was possible, but which alludes me here in the land of Avalyne68. I'm not interested in being the straight man's fantasy, always fielding his hopes for that threesome. I'm not willing to deny my sexuality for the woman-centered life that most of my lesbian friends require of their partners.  I've been a poster child for total transparency, but dating with "honesty" ends up feeling more like a bad scene from Chasing Amy, anymore. The stable guys and gals I'd want, don't want me... at least not without a very long disclaimer.

I think I'll continue to date myself for awhile.  I did go back onto OKCupid and change it to say I am bisexual (instead of straight), and I changed what I was looking for from "Guys who like Girls," to "Everybody." Why the hell not?  And after just a day, there were suddenly several new visitors to my profile;  mostly men with handles like "horny4you" and "Letsgetbusy."  Sigh. Here we go, again, folks. No need to fasten any seat belts.  Horny and I won't be meeting for coffee anytime soon.