Let's Talk About Sex

Shall we?

But first, the song that is now in everyone's head:



So, sex.  It is a thing that many humans enjoy doing for its own sake ("recreational purposes").

But how often have we been told that there is "more" to a relationship than "just sex"?  I don't know about you, but I pretty much had that hammered into my head since puberty and definitely all through college.

And that "warning" came from a place of somehow trying to "help" young people (including li'l Leonard) not to throw themselves away on their first crush/love/lusty high school sweetheart...I guess?  It was some kind of basic "life lesson" that you don't marry the first person you fall in lust with.  Or perhaps just because you're young and in love, eventually looks (and sex drive) fade, and you'll want someone with whom you can have a conversation or maybe some common goals and activities.
Maybe?
The why's and wherefore's were never really articulated.  It was just that bland, blanket statement:  "there's more to a relationship than just sex."

What the fuck does that even mean?  Do you remember hearing it?  Is this simply a Gen-X thing?  I have an inkling that it goes part and parcel with the HIV/AIDS "scare" that we angry Gen-Xers also grew up with.

At any rate, I think little Leonard took that piece of grown-up advice and ran with it, right to our forty-year-old detriment.  Follow me through this:

I lost my virginity relatively "late."  I was eighteen and a freshman in college, and it was with my first "real" boyfriend.  And for that matter, it was by accident, but that story is neither here nor there.  And I was, of course, very in love with him, although that's not why I "lost" my virginity with him.  Our relationship didn't survive that first summer apart, especially since he decided he was not coming back to our college.

Later that same fateful summer, I spent some time with my dad and step-mom and their family (always a mistake; it never goes well), and my (Catholic) step-monster had a question about health insurance (as I was still on my dad's insurance).  Basically, she wanted to know why they were being charged for birth control pills for me.  I think she actually said something like, "Are you taking these for....?" and couldn't even finish; she couldn't even make up a reason (many women take BCP for all kinds of health reasons that literally have nothing to do with sex/procreation).
And I said, "I'm taking them for their intended purpose:  so I don't get pregnant."
At that, the step-monster made a face and said, "There are some things you want to save for your husband."
To which I replied, "Were you a virgin when you married my dad?" feeling 90% sure that she wasn't.

Somewhere in that same conversation I mentioned that I had "only slept with one person anyway," and she threw back in my face, "And he dropped you like a hot potato!"
Bitch.

Anyway, that conversation shows the foundation of Puritanical, patriarchal, heteronormative nonsense they raised me on -- always there, lurking in the background.  And again and again, the same refrain of "there's more to a relationship [or marriage] than sex."

Fast forward several years to my first engagement (circa 2002).  I can't remember if we were even engaged yet when our sex life stalled and seemed to die.  But I was determined to remain engaged (literally), to get married, AND to "make things work" (WTF does that mean?!?).  And I was also convinced that lack of interest in the bedroom must have somehow been my fault.  I take a heavy dose of SSRI's every day, and everyone knows those can kill your sex drive.  I didn't put it together at that time that having an attraction and then not having it (even though meds remained the same) was a different issue than not having a sex drive at all.

I went to my physician and told him my problems.  He prescribed an antihistamine of all things to take 1-2 hours "pre-coitus."  One of the antihistamine's lesser known (unintentional) uses was increase libido.  I did that, I bought a sexy new corset from Victoria's Secret¹, and I thought things would be fixed.

I want to say that my ex-husband even went to his doctor to check for low testosterone, too, but now that I think about it, I believe he (and I) just talked about him maybe going, but it never actually happened.

Things were not "fixed."  We didn't really start having regular sex again until we decided to try to have a baby, many months later.  And then a month or so into that, he left.

We had many, many red flags during our four years together that things were not going to work, and the lack of sex and attraction should have been near the top of the list.  But I discounted that because, y'know, "there's more to marriage than [just] sex."

Flash forward many, many years later:  my first kiss with my most recent ex.  I remember it because, frankly, it was flat.  She and I had almost no sexual chemistry whatsoever.  We were dating four months before we ever slept together.  And when we finally did, it was kind of awkward.
Yet,  I still said "yes" when she proposed.  Because I thought that's what you did after a year of dating.  I wanted to move in together; this was practically the same thing, right?  And maybe, maybe the attraction would improve, maybe things would get better.

Spoiler alert:  they did not get better.  We had some very good and fun things going for us, but we were also missing some fundamental pieces for a healthy relationship, and one of those was a physically intimate relationship.  And I don't just mean sexual intercourse;  I also mean cuddling, holding hands, burning kisses like we were twenty-year-old's.

Flash forward to early 2018:  I had resigned myself to my life as it was at that moment:  living a comfortable lifestyle with a person for whom I cared deeply, but for all intents and purposes was a roommate/good friend.  We had a good life and things weren't "bad," per se, but they could have been a lot better.  And my reasoning went something like this, "I guess this is it.  This is what happens when you get old, right?  You stop having sex.  You're just comfortable around each other."  And, of course, "It's just sex.  There's more to a relationship that 'just sex.'"  And, of course, always the lingering thought that my daily Zoloft was erasing my sex drive.

And I even said something to that effect to my therapist:  "This is what happens, right?  You just end up as friends/roommates?"  And she reminded me that 1) that doesn't happen to everyone, and 2) it only has to be okay if you want it to be okay.  Some people are fine living like that²; others are not.  And it only works if both people are okay living like that.

And then I met someone.  Someone who was not my partner.
And quickly, and much to both of our surprise, feelings sprung up.  Very real feelings of a romantic nature.  And I let myself believe that maybe, perhaps I could "have it all" -- I could be with a person who had similar tastes, things in common, someone with whom there was shared mutual physical attraction -- even though, y'know, we're both middle-aged and not as svelte as we used to be -- and that thought was scary and wonderful and eye-opening.  As was the thought that we were having physical feelings for each other while I was on my meds the whole time.  That perhaps there wasn't anything "wrong" with me; it had been previous relationships that weren't right.

And Person X and I were head-over-heels for each other.  And in the middle of our very brief time spent together, in the midst of spinning fantasies and telling stories to each other about what life would be like together, I came up with a fantasy that surprised even me.

No, not because it was twisted or kinky or anything like that (those were different fantasies).  Fantasies for me generally fall into two categories:  sexual or domestic.
Sexual is fairly self-explanatory.  Domestic, though, domestic involves all those little somethings that help make a relationship: cuddling on the couch together, doing different things in the same room at the same time, decorating for the holidays, all that silly "domestic" stuff.

And so far, in my life, never have the twain met.  They were separate spheres of desire for me.  Not necessarily intentionally, but that's just how it was.  And without meaning to, I concocted a fantasy that was both sexual and domestic with Person X.  And that's the part that shocked me -- that I could have both things.  At the same time! 

I never got to tell them about this particular fantasy, and the details of it are unimportant in the scheme of this post; we have since gone our separate ways, with my heart getting broken in the process.  But I guess my point after all of this is that telling me over and over again that "there's more to a relationship than just sex" did more harm than good as it caused me to ignore when part of a relationship didn't fit/wasn't right/wasn't working.  It caused me to ignore ALL the parts of a happy, healthy relationship and end up "settling" for some things.

During English AP class in high school, we read a poem that I could have sworn was by Maya Angelou, but I cannot find, that described the "recipe" for a good marriage, and it included 3-4 "heaping cups" of sex.  I wish I had paid closer attention to that poem than to the "moral" commands of (largely) religious hypocrites.

¹I did not buy said corset "for" my ex-husband.  I bought it because it made me feel sexy; the fact that he would also enjoy seeing me in it was an added bonus.  I recently was told of a woman who bought two pairs of "sexy underwear" but then "never had a chance to wear them" because she and her partner's sex life was dead.  And that was one of the saddest things I ever heard -- not that their bedroom was dead, but that this woman somehow felt she needed her partner's attention/approval/interest to wear the sexy underwear.  That's not how lingerie works, people.  You buy it and wear it FOR YOU, because it MAKES YOU feel sexy.  The gaze and desire of someone is an added bonus, but not the point.

²It should hopefully go without saying (but I'm going to say it anyway), almost none of this applies to people who identify as asexual.  Not having a sexual component to their relationships does not make said relationships "unhealthy" if that's what they (and all people involved) want.  I (obviously) do not identify as asexual.

The Difference a Preposition Makes

In case you hadn't noticed, I've been on a bit of a k.d. lang kick lately.
"Kick," "small obsession," tomato, to-mah-to.

I've even taken to listening to some songs while I fall asleep.  There's nothing quite like hearing her say, "Sleep, silent angel / Go to sleep" in my ear as I do just that.

Those lyrics are from "The Air That I Breathe," and when singing along (in the car, not in bed) as I am wont to do, I realized I was singing a line wrong.  I was singing, "Making love to you / Has left me peaceful, warm, and tired."  But that's incorrect.

The actual lyric is: "Making love with you / Has left me peaceful, warm, and tired."

Just one small preposition mix-up, but it makes a world of difference in the song and when using the phrase in life.  And I was briefly stunned when I realized the difference.  To make love "to" someone makes the other person a rather passive participant in the love-making.  But making love with someone -- that's entirely different.  That's two people engaged in a (fun, wonderful) activity together.

So thank you, k.d. lang, for writing the difference.

Breaking News Update:  While finishing this post, I discovered that lang did not write this song/these lyrics.  The Hollies did in 1972.  All of the songs from her Drag CD are covers, actually.  So I guess I should be thanking The Hollies...but I think I'll stick with k.d. because see above:  "obsession."

Concert List

I mentioned earlier that I can count on one hand the concerts I've been to.  Here's the list, FYI:

• Bangles & Mr. Mister (Nebraska State Fair, 1986)
• GWAR (Mississippi Nights, 1996)
• Sheryl Crow (Fabulous Fox, 1997)
• Fast Ball, Goo Goo Dolls, Sugar Ray (Riverport Amphitheatre, 1999)
• Train, Matchbox 20 (Riverport Amphitheatre, 2001 -- their first concert, post 9/11).
• Diana Krall & Chris Botti (Fabulous Fox, 2007)
• k.d. lang (Peabody, 2018)

I've made it on to two hands now -- woohoo!

Why has Leonard gone to so few concerts?  See any of the many posts regarding anxiety, panic attacks, depression, mental health, mental illness, and/or not liking people or crowds or crowds of people.  Leonard was fairly wee at that very first concert (8 years old) and nearly got trampled, so maybe that influenced everything else down the road?

As it stands, it would have to be someone I really like to get me to a giant stadium concert.  I adore P!nk, and she was just in town, but I did not go.  It never strikes me as something that I "can" do; like, I never even entertain the possibility.

3 different times in my life I've been offered Melissa Etheridge tickets (and I would have made an exception for her!), and all three times, I had rehearsal.

Ingenue

Trying to write this while the memory is still fresh.  Should preface with the fact that I can probably count on one hand the number of concerts I've been to, so I don't have a lot of experience with them.

Opening Act:  The Gregoryan Brothers from Australia.  Two adorably nerdy Australian brothers playing classical guitar, which I enjoyed immensely.  Some of it I found very soothing (which is a good thing), other pieces involved drumming on the guitar which was very cool, and one piece I said to my friend, "This suddenly has a Ren Faire vibe."  After that piece, they mentioned it was a fantasy on a theme by an Elizabethan composer.

Me & Friend: "Aha!"
Me:  "Ren Faire!"

 I bought their CD in between acts, and they were in the lobby signing them, so I got that, too.  Sidenote:  this venue only had one dude working the merchandise table, all by himself!  Don't know if that was venue or Ms. lang's tour's doing, but either way, a poor decision.

The Main Gig:  Aaaahhhhhh!  Not sure I can do much more than squeal with joy.  In getting these tickets, I realized that k.d. lang was one of my first gay crushes, long before I think I even realized my own queerness.  I just remember being attracted to and fascinated by her and her androgyny.  In listening to her perform live, I wish I had been more familiar with the Ingenue album when I was coming out as there were a couple of songs that nearly had me in tears.

The Set:  Maybe this is typical for concerts, especially those in smaller, more intimate venues (not giant stadiums), but I freakin' loved this set!  My friend snapped a pic of it below.  The blue velvet curtains (which later changed color, so maybe they weren't actually blue, but lit to be blue at first), the candle-looking lights which of course changed.  Not only did I love it, but I was impressed and fascinated by the changes.  Lighting design is something I've never worked on, so my mind was whirling with questions like "Who decides when and what?  Does k.d. lang have input?  Does she make someone stand in her place on stage so she can view it from the house?"

She is performing barefoot!  *swoon*

Good lighting (and sound design) should always enhance a show, but not necessarily be noticeable.  The way this lighting design worked was subtle, but I see you, design director!  Well done, sir/madam!  We were eased into it with more basic light changes (usually those ones that look like candles inside drums), mostly to the beat of the music.  The changes and and colors and goboes increased as the show went on, then faded back out to more basic designs towards the end of the show.  lang's show isn't necessarily about set & lighting, but as a theatre nerd, I watch these things.

Back to the Main Gig:  Hot damn, girl has some amazing breath control!  She can still belt out and also croon out those long, sustained notes -- be still, my heart!  And she's funny!  Not that I doubted it, but I love a good personality, and she clearly isn't taking anything too seriously.  To quote my friend, "There's definitely a bit of 'cheesy lounge singer' in her show."
Me:  "Yes, and I LOVE IT!"

And I do.

Her band is awesome as well, and she gives them their due with solos and introductions; they've clearly worked out a comfortable arrangement, working together as one organism.

I don't really know what else to say as I don't usually go to concerts, let alone review them, except that I had a blast!  And hearing her sing "Hallelujah" (one of my all-time favorite songs) was, well, like a religious experience.  And now I need to buy ALL THE SONGS (and perhaps work some into my cabaret project).  Maybe this is a turning point for me; I may go to more concerts (in smaller venues) in the future...

Lookit that grin!  She's gonna charm the pants off ya.
k.d.lang's website

On the Fence about Train

In the epic debate of Train versus Maroon 5, I am firmly on the side of Train.  I have already documented Maroon 5's history of disturbing, misogynistic lyrics.  And I've liked Train since their early "Meet Virginia" days.  It's a fun, quirky song.  And then they had "Drops of Jupiter" -- still quirky, but possibly with more meaning to it.  And we can't forget "Soul Sister."  It literally has a refrain of Leonard's uncle's band -- what's not to like?  And "Save Me, San Francisco"?  Fantastic.  Hell, Train has even put out wines with names that complement their songs, and even my mother-in-law enjoys them.

But sometimes,....sometimes Pat Monaghan and the gang really test my loyalty.  I have to wonder if the Train boys sometimes think, "Hey, I wonder what would happen if we took X and added Z, but then did Y?"  Like, they purposely set out to riff off of another song, but not quite.  Music isn't algebra, friends.  And just because you can do something doesn't mean you should.  Case in point:  Train's "50 Ways to Say Goodbye."

The title clearly indicates that this is their "version" of Paul Simon's "50 Ways to Leave Your Lover" (or "love your lever," as the Muppets prefer it); however, while Simon's song is about leaving/breaking up, Train's song takes a darker turn (despite an attempt at levity) by documenting all the different way to say said ex-lover died:

She went down in an airplane
Fried getting suntan
Fell in a cement mixer full of quicksand
Help me, help me, I'm no good at goodbyes!
She met a shark under water
Fell and no one caught her

So, not exactly a family-friendly interpretation of Paul Simon's classic, I guess.  But it gets worse because now we have to talk about the actual music.

Using our algebra problem from before, it goes something like this:  "Let's take 'Phantom of the Opera,' add a mariachi band, and then 'pay homage' to Paul Simon's song!"  If you don't believe me, here is the actual sheet music for comparison:

Up first, Andrew Lloyd Webber's "Phantom of the Opera" from my "Easy Piano" book from high school (stop judging me!):

I know it's a little hard to read, but I did highlight the notes for you.  In the key of D minor (one flat), we have:

• A
• D
• A
• C
• B flat
• B flat

And now the Train music (most of which is previews because I wasn't willing to buy an entire song just for the exercise of this blog post):

We definitely nailed the mariachi part as it's even noted here (marked inred). Again, I highlighted the notes for you, in the key of Eb Minor:

• B
• E
• B
• B
• C
• C
• A
• D
• A
• A
• B
• B

The music theory scholars among you (which I am absolutely note) will probably already notice the similarities.  But we can transpose the music (thanks again, MusicNotes.com!) and get, well, the exact same listing at the ALW song:

And it really gets going when ALW gets to the lyrics "And do I dream again? For now I find" and Pat sings "You said it's meant to be / That it's not you, it's me / You're leaving now for my own good."  

Okay, fine, it's not the exact same notes as there are some minor differences¹ (pun intended), but if you don't listen to the Train song and not want to singing "The Phaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaantom OfTheOperaIsHeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere," I don't know what to do with you.

But that's not all.  Then Train came out with another pop-y song that had a distinct 1960s bubble-gum sound to it.  And I couldn't quite place it...

Oh fuck me, it's "Heart & Soul"!!!  We all learned to play it fairly soon in our (however short-lived) piano-playing careers, especially after this scene came out in 1988:

C'mon, Train!  That just seems like you were out of fucks to give and again decided to play musical algebra.  And I might be willing to forgive if the lyrics were interesting or clever.  But:

Play that song
The one that makes me go all night long
The one that makes me think of you
That's all you gotta do

Hey, mister DJ when you gonna spin it
My baby's favorite record she been waiting for a minute
She invited all her friends and I'm buying all the rounds
And they're all dolled up

DJ please don't let me down
When you gonna play that song, now
When you gonna earn that pay
When you gonna play that song and make my day

I'm gonna go ahead and ignore the sexual connotations of "makes me go all night long" for now and move on to the horrible position he's putting the DJ in.  It's cool to request songs, but when you start badgering the DJ to play the song(s) you want, they will put you at the bottom of the list real quick (if not ignore you altogether).

It's not his/her fault you apparently are trying to impress your girlfriend and her friends with...what?  Your relationship with the DJ?  If you really want to impress her, you could try playing (actual) music yourself, rather than relying on a DJ to do your dirty work.  Y'know, especially since "they're all dolled up" (read:  "What the fuck does their appearance have to do with anything in the context of this song?!?")

And since you took "Heart & Soul" to write this song, does this mean your "baby's favorite record" is..."Heart & Soul"?  If so, you may want to reevaluate some things, including this particular romantic relationship.

And it's shit like this, Train, that makes me look foolish for continuing to pick you over Maroon 5.  Next up:  Why Matchbox 20 is better than both of you².

¹ I could go further into the music analysis, but frankly, even I'm bored already.
² Not really.  I mean I love their music, too, but I don't have a compelling argument to make.  I just wanted an excuse to include the Saturday Night Live sketch "Maroon 5 versus Train," but I can't find it online :-(

Anti-Valentine's Day Mix

I made a copy of this mix for my two co-workers, but I thought I'd share it with the masses as well.

Please note:  Leonard has nothing against Valentine's Day in theory.  As I've grown older, it means less to me, especially as my Unit and I typically typically have work, a show, a blizzard, etc. on February 14th.  So it's not a big deal for us.  If you like it, great!  If you don't, don't get hung up on it.  There is no need to feel bad on a made-up holiday.  But Ludo's "Love Me Dead" inspired me to make this somewhat ironic list.  It has changed over time.  Here's the most recent incarnation:

1. "Bad Reputation" (Joan Jett)
2. "Before He Cheats" (Carrie Underwood)
3. "Coin-Operated Boy" (The Dresden Dolls)
4. "Cowboy Casanova" (Carrie Underwood)
5. "Every You Every Me" (Placebo)
6. "Fuck You" (CeeLo Green)
7. "Heart-Shaped Glasses" (Marilyn Manson)
8. "Leave Me Alone (I'm Lonely)" (P!nk)
9. "Love Me Dead" (Ludo)
10. "She Hates Me" (Puddle of Mudd)
11. "She's So Mean" (Matchbox 20)
12. "U + Ur Hand" (P!nk)

Enjoy my "Anti-Valentine's Day" list!  Or, as the lady who lives in my iPod calls is, my "AN-teh-vel-EN-tin-us" Day mix.