Tag Archives: The Dandy

Another thing

One time, when Dandette was still living here, The Dandy’s mom was visiting and started trash-talking some of his other family members. Dandette’s met them so she was able to legitimately roll her eyes and empathize and all that. I was just a spectator.

But yeah. The Dandy got on the subject of this one aunt who exasperates him by kind of taking a few running jumps at her sentences before managing to get momentum; she’ll start to say a thing, then back up to the beginning and start again.

“But…you know you do that, too, right?” I asked The Dandy.

Everyone fell silent. The Dandy’s mom was unreadable. Dandette was smirking, so I think she was having an “OMG someone finally told him” moment. The Dandy did his silent and belligerent thing and then changed the subject.

He does do it, though. He’ll be like “So today I was – so today I was making dinner and I went, I stepped out of the kitchen for a second, and when I came back I – while I was gone, while I was gone Bastardcat jumped on the counter and stole a piece of steak.” That’s actually a somewhat mild fictitious example. Sometimes he’s winding up five or six times at the beginning of a sentence. The weirdest thing to me is how often he really does just rewind to the beginning and repeat the exact same words. Why is he stopping mid-sentence like he needs to revise his words but then just saying the same ones a second (third, fourth) time?

So, just like with Minx (albeit Minx drew everything out in a different way) I’m losing my damn mind waiting for The Dandy to finish a thought, but I don’t really feel like I can tell him he’s driving me nuts because then he’ll probably feel self-conscious every time he talks and the issue will just get worse. And I’m sure there are things I do that drive him nuts, so maybe I’d better not pull at that thread. But gawwwd.

…Y’know, I think when he’s interrupting me he actually does speak straightforwardly and doesn’t stumble and regroup fifty thousand times. I’ll have to pay more attention to know for sure. But his blurtings seem very spontaneous and it makes sense that they’re just falling out of his face without him thinking about them too much. When he’s thinking before speaking, I suspect that’s what gets in his way.

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Another Dandy thing

This one’s not a thing my dad did, just a general annoying-as-fuck thing, and I probably mentioned it before: when The Dandy is enthusiastic about a subject, he’ll interrupt me. Constantly. And it drives me fuckin’ crazy.

One time (during a neutral interlude when he wasn’t speechifying at me) I asked him if he knows he’s interrupting me but just plunges on ahead anyway, or if he genuinely doesn’t notice me repeatedly taking a breath and starting to speak. He gave one of those nothing responses, either rambling a bunch and then afterwards I realized he hadn’t answered my question or else going silent and belligerent, I forget. Actually I think he went silent but smirked, that time. Like he was acknowledging that his behaviour was almost comedically terrible. But anyway he didn’t answer my question.

But yeah. I absolutely hate how he does this. HATE.

Last night, a friend posted a meme on Facebook that talked about how much taxpayer money was spent on that recent royal wedding when, not long ago, an apartment building in the UK burned down because it wasn’t properly fireproofed and the government said there just hadn’t been enough money in the budget for that. (Or something. I don’t really follow this stuff.) I don’t know or really care about the subject, particularly, but two guys on that thread started arguing about it to just ridiculous proportions – they got to the point of slinging childish insults at each other, many of which were disparaging toward women – and the mutual friend who’d posted the meme was a woman. So I trolled these guys a little bit to kinda throw them off their rhythm because I thought they were being douchebags.

So I go into the bedroom to tell The Dandy about this – mostly to brag about the expert way I needled the two arguers, but also to rant about how they were saying shit like “take your Midol because you’re acting crazy.” I even specifically prefaced my story by saying that I don’t care about the “blarrrrgh how dare the royal wedding be so expensive” thing.

The Dandy interrupted me mid-sentence to say “I don’t think the wedding would have been paid for by taxpayers’ money, though. It’s not like the Royal Family gets a salary from the government or anything. They’re tax-exempt, so they get to hold on to the money they already have, but that’s about it.”

Again: I don’t really follow this stuff and I don’t care a lot. But I’m sure I read somewhere that the queen of England does get a salary of sorts. Like, a few million bucks a year. So the complaint from the meme seems pretty valid.

So I said to The Dandy, “Actually, I read – ” but he burst out with more verbiage essentially rehashing what he’d already said. I waited for the next pause and said “Actually – ” and he brought forth another mighty blast of verbal diarrhea that completely drowned me out. I tried to make my point two or three more times but The Dandy kept fucking railroading me and finally I gave him a death glare and just plain left the room. If he’d asked me where I was going, I would have straight-up said “You’re clearly not in this to have an actual conversation; you just want to hear your own voice. And you don’t need me around for that.” But he didn’t say anything. I think he knew exactly why I was leaving. Of course, he didn’t apologize at any point. He acted conciliatory with me later that night – announcing that he was going to bed and telling me, with a faint air of sheepishness, that if I came to bed, too, he’d pet me to sleep. But he never actually addressed what he’d done and said he was sorry. God forbid.

In some ways it’s even worse when he interrupts me and we’re not in a political debate or any sort of passionate conversation. Because, like, the amount I have to fight to be heard doesn’t feel like it justifies whatever stupid casual remark I was trying to say.

The Dandy and I have watched all of The Santa Clarita Diet on Netflix, and enjoyed it. The redheaded chick who plays the daughter on the show is in this other Netflix series, Drama World, that I watched a bunch of by myself one day a few weeks ago while The Dandy was at work. I really like the actress and looked her up on IMDb to see if she might have been in anything else I’ve seen and I just didn’t realize it. I learned that she’s Australian. I’d had no idea – her American accent sounds completely flawless to me. So that’s a neat bit of info!

So The Dandy came home and went on a little tirade about his shitty day at work. I commiserated like you’re supposed to. He seemed to be winding down. Eventually there was a good fifteen seconds of silence. And I went to casually mention “I found out today that the daughter from The Santa Clarita Diet is actually Australian!” but just as I started to talk, The Dandy burst out with more words. I can’t remember if it was more work stuff or random observations or what. I reacted to what he’d said. He was quiet for another 20 seconds or so. Then I tried to say the thing about the actress again and he interrupted me again. And in case I wasn’t clear before, he never ever acknowledges that I’d been speaking. It’s never “AND ANOTHER THING – oh sorry what were you gonna say?” – that would also be annoying, but less so than him just talking right the fuck over me without looking back.

“That chick from The Santa Clarita Diet is Australian!” is not life-or-death info. I’m aware of this. I wasn’t, like, sooooo insistent that he know this piece of trivia that I’d decided that telling it to him was the hill I would die on; if he’d started a whole new thread of conversation I would have let go of the thing about the actress and gotten involved in the new topic. But The Dandy didn’t start a conversation, per se. He would burst out with one discrete statement that required minimal participation from me (“So I’m thinking beef for dinner” type thing) and then he’d fall silent and I’d try to bring up the actress thing by way of small talk and just as I was starting to speak, he’d burst out with yet another discrete statement. And this ended up happening five or six times in a row. And it would feel so stupid to start an argument about this (“FUCKING BLOODY HELL CAN YOU SHUT UP FOR TWO SECONDS SO I CAN TELL YOU THAT THE REDHEAD FROM THE SANTA CLARITA DIET IS AUSTRALIAN JESUS CHRIST”), because the thing I was trying to say was so utterly trivial. But it still sucks to be talked over, y’know? And he’s done it when I was trying to say important stuff, too, so it’s not like I’d only be yelling about not being able to dish out a piece of celebrity trivia. I’d just be yelling about the latest incident of being repeatedly talked over like I wasn’t there. But still.

I decided to give up trying to talk whatsoever, about anything, until it really, truly seemed like the Dandy had blurted every thought out of his head that he possibly could. It would have been nice to have a pleasant conversation with him; I do enjoy his company (usually) and he’d been gone all day. But clearly he was still agitated from his day or whatever and not able to settle in and interact with me like a human. So I gave up.

He actually didn’t say anything else after the last time he’d interrupted me. We sat in silence for five full minutes, probably longer. I turned Netflix back on to watch more Drama World, and the title screen came up with a picture of that redhead, and I thought that since The Dandy seemed all talked out at last, it might finally be safe to say the fucking thing about the actress.

I took a breath, gestured toward the tv, and said “So, the – ”


And I snapped “Oh my goddddddd.”

The Dandy mistook my reaction to mean something else; I can’t remember what he thought. But he was like “What? Did you something something something?”

And I was like “No, I’ve just been trying to tell you this stupid fucking thing about how this actress is actually Australian for the past ten minutes and it’s getting frustrating, is all.”

So hey, I suppose he doesn’t notice that I’ve started talking, otherwise he would have known precisely why I was so irritated.

But yeah. I’d say shit like this happens every two days on average. And it’s just so ridiculous and infuriating and I don’t know what to do about it besides walk away or physically clamp my hand over The Dandy’s mouth until I finish saying whatever I wanted to say.

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Dandy things

I hate my dad but I keep ending up dating people who are like him in some way(s), either because my interactions with my father were my first interactions with a man and therefore became a sort of blueprint, or maybe because humans are infinitely complex and literally everyone has one or two things in common with my dad. I don’t know.

If my dad came home from work and it wasn’t immediately obvious to him where my mom was, he’d walk through the house anxiously calling out to her until he found her. I found that odd and hilarious, like he was perpetually expecting her to have packed up and left him while he was gone (maybe he was in fact expecting this. Certainly he would have deserved it). I’ve even told this story to The Dandy, who agreed that it’s weird. But it turns out he does the same thing.

We have two bathrooms. The one that isn’t connected to The Dandy’s bedroom is the default room for pooping since smells are more easily contained there. The door blocks the hallway when it’s partway open, though. and The Dandy tends to close it when the room isn’t in use. A few times I’ve been in there shitting and lo and behold, The Dandy stands right outside the closed door and says “…Cowgirl?” in this tentative, weird voice. And I’m like “……..yeah….?” not thrilled about being disturbed, and he goes “Oh, okay. I just didn’t know where you were.” Why didn’t he simply figure it out (silently) by process of elimination?* Why does he sound so scared when he’s saying my name? What even is this?

He’s done this a few times when I wasn’t shitting, too – just in a different room than he expected me to be in. Why he got alarmed and went looking for me instead of thinking “Oh, I guess she’s not in the last room I saw her in anymore, because sometimes human beings go into other rooms for stuff” I don’t know.

The Dandy also does this thing where if he’s in the kitchen doing anything and I pop in there even for a second and he has to accommodate my presence in any way, he starts making huffy annoyed sounds. My dad was even worse for this – he once came into the kitchen to get a snack while my mom was cooking us dinner and huffed because she was momentarily in his way – but still. I try not to get in The Dandy’s way when he’s doing kitchen stuff – especially since it’s clear he really wants the space to himself when he’s in there – but I live here too and sometimes I want to get a fucking glass of water while he’s loading the dishwasher and not feel like I’m the most horrible human alive for daring to enter the room, y’know? Plus in my dad’s case, he had a violent and terrifying temper so the huffing was often just the first step on a path leading to him screaming in my face or shoving me into the wall. The Dandy isn’t the bad-temper type but the heavy, annoyed sighing thing puts my whole nervous system on high alert automatically. I talked to The Dandy about his huffing earlier today. I don’t know if he gets it or if anything will change.


*Instead of interrupting MY process of elimination. HEY-O!

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The Dandy and I had sex earlier and afterward I was waxing poetic about how hot it is to push him over the edge into a really good orgasm. Then – not wanting to be presumptuous – I said “that was a good one, right? My instincts here are correct?”

“It was good. Not Best Ever level, but good.”

“Have I ever given you a top-tier orgasm?” I asked.

“Yes,” The Dandy said. Then added: “you’re the only one who has.”

And I melted. 😀

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Moar navel gazing

My reluctance to break off long-term relationships isn’t because I’m afraid of hurting the other person’s feelings, btw.

It’s actually a lot more because I’m afraid they’ll laugh at me. “You’re leaving me because of that stupid, tiny thing?! WTF?!?!?!?” and since I already felt like the issue was possibly kind of stupid and minor-sounding, I’ll feel even stupider. I’ll question my judgment.

Like…the first persistent issue I can remember having with The Bunny was that he didn’t take compliments very well. I’m an effusive person, plus to me admitting desire for someone is a very vulnerable thing, so telling The Bunny I thought he was beautiful and getting sarcasm and deflection in return was a real slap in the face. It was genuinely difficult for me; I tried holding back my effusiveness but that was wildly unnatural for me to a point where it almost hurt. Conversely, saying whatever sweet thing was on my mind usually got me verbally bitch-slapped, so I was at an impasse. But could you even imagine me telling him I was breaking off our relationship – one where we had good sex and we liked each other and everything – because he didn’t respond to compliments the way I wanted him to?

With The Dandy I’d say things are good/pleasant/uneventful eighty percent of the time, but every now and then some stupid bullshit happens due to him not being a good communicator. Or there’s the thing where, after about two years of us dating, he still needs repeated reminding of how I like to be touched (it’s nice that he knows I like to be petted and does it frequently! But it’s a very light touch that really makes my nerve endings sing, and the majority of the time he plunks his hand down and moves it around like he’s polishing a countertop or something and I have to say “lighter” five times before it registers).

There’s legit a lot more good than bad here, I think. Or at least more not-bad than bad, and given that I live here and depend on The Dandy for a chunk of my livelihood, “ehhhh, our relationship is okay” is good enough reason to stay.

It’s just…I can see some potential seeds of badness here. Things that could grow and make me actively unhappy being with him. And I’ve tried to address these things and it hasn’t worked. And I don’t wanna look back on this time, years from now, and wish I’d left.

Last night I asked The Dandy if he would work on being more transparent with me like I need. He made the tiniest possible affirmative noise. Kinda noncommittal-sounding, really. I asked him how he’s gonna work on it and his face got that closed-down look and he just gave me a belligerent shrug.

And his stock excuse for not doing things I’ve told him I want/need (like being transparent with his words) is “It just doesn’t occur to me.” Finally the other day I told him that this is not, in fact, a valid excuse; I’m not just gonna go “Ohhhh, okay! It just doesn’t occur to him to fulfill my needs!” and cheerfully let it go. He has to figure something out to help him remember. Write shit down or something. I dunno. Of course when I said this his face got that closed-down, belligerent expression again.

Oh and I can’t help noticing that one of his big objections to seeing a therapist with me (way back when I first brought it up) was “I don’t have time for that!” but yesterday he announced that he might enroll in a woodworking class to teach him how to make the fancy cutting board he wants. So I guess he can spare an hour or two a week. :/

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No but seriously tho: NARRATE.

If there’s one huge ongoing battle I have with The Dandy, it’s getting him to use his words more.

He is so fuckin’ weird sometimes. He’ll do stuff that even a neurotypical person would probably be confused by, like you’ll ask him to help with this thing you’re doing and he’ll say “okay” but instead of, y’know, coming over and helping, he’ll turn around and leave the room. And when you’re like “…ummmm…?” he’ll clarify: “I have to pee. Then I’ll help.” but like…say that part upfront. Everyone else I’ve ever known, if you’d asked them for help like that, would have said “Yes, but first I gotta pee” or whatever. They wouldn’t say yes and then just silently leave.

And the weirdest part is that on two different occasions I forgot to narrate my actions (both times I think The Dandy and I were (playfully?) antagonizing each other but it got to a point where I ran out of comebacks so I just wandered off to load the dishwasher or whatever). On both occasions, The Dandy grabbed my arm and was like “wait where are you going what are you doing are you mad at me?” So it’s not like he’s wired completely differently from me; it bothers him if I leave a room suddenly and without explanation, too. And yet he still never thinks to narrate his own actions.

Also though he’s a lot more subtle and hinty than I am a lot of the time and it hurts my head. I can interpret hints (I think? Most of the time?) but I feel so much more comfortable with directness.

And The Dandy will also make assumptions without asking for clarification or clarifying his own expectations/needs, which drives me batty.

Like one time recently it was just about time for bed and I came out of a nice hot bath and flopped on my bed in my towel to relax and air-dry for a bit. The Dandy came in, without prompting, and lay down next to me and started stroking my head and upper back the way I love. Probably he was trying to help me get sleepy because I’ve been having insomnia lately. My crotch feels good when stroked too, though – I’m not even talking about clitoral stimulation and orgasms, I mean just lightly scritching the mons or stroking along the labia majora feels really nice, and since I’d just bathed I figured The Dandy might not object to doing that*.

So I asked him to “pet my furry bits.” And he did, but kind of tentatively, and he avoided my more sensitive areas despite my repeated urging, so for the most part it was just a giant unsatisfying tease. I swear to you it even occurred to me that he might have been acting that way because he was trying not to turn me on (it was late and he surely wanted to go to bed soon; sex would have postponed that plan) and I was going to outright tell him “Hey, just FYI, I want to get to bed soon and I know you do, too; this isn’t foreplay for me, it just feels nice and I’m enjoying it on its own merits.” But I didn’t, because I’m frankly sick to death of constantly second-guessing his motivations out of anxiety (and often being wrong about them, since AnxietyBrain isn’t the most logical entity around).

This was the Sunday (I think?) of the same weekend we had sex twice. The next day he mentioned that his penis was actually sore from all the action it had gotten. “Were you afraid of touching me too intimately last night in case you ‘woke the beast’ and I wanted to fuck you again?” I asked. He said yup, that’s exactly what was happening there. And I was like “FFS why wouldn’t you just have said ‘hey, just FYI I like touching you but I don’t want it to lead to sex right now’?” The Dandy of course just got all weird and quiet and just shrugged. I pointed out that I’ve said stuff like that to him tons of times, and also that I’ve never reacted badly when he’s indicated he doesn’t want sex so it’s weird that he seemed to be treating me like some scary sexual predator he had to appease as best he could without starting a direct confrontation. I mean seriously WTF.

And anyway, it’s not like “an hour of time-and-energy-consuming intercourse” and “some chaste caressing that definitely doesn’t lead to anything but sleep” were the only two possible options. If he didn’t wanna bone but I kinda did, we could compromise on dildo-plus-Hitachi. I get satisfied and he barely has to do anything.

The Dandy of course didn’t ever give me any straight answers about what was on his mind or why he can’t or won’t just fucking tell me the parameters of what he wants instead of driving AnxietyBrain insane with his hints and deflections.

And then yesterday the same fucking thing happened again, basically. From 9am til noon, The Dandy needed to be logged into his computer to babysit some software deployment thing for his work. After that we had plans to pop into Home Depot for some stuff I needed and then go visit his mom for Mother’s Day (and she lives in a city maybe two hours away by car, so it’s not a thing where we’d ever just pop in for half an hour. Visits are long). In the meantime, though, I was feeling a buildup of sexual energy.

The Dandy’s computer is basically about ten feet from my bed (albeit with a wall in between). It was unclear to me whether his work bullshit would involve Skyping or conference calls, and my Hitachi is LOUD, so I didn’t wanna get myself off while he was working. If he was gonna take a shower later as part of the getting-ready-to-leave process I could have taken care of business then, but he doesn’t always shower before we go somewhere and if I’d asked “Will you be taking a shower today?” he would have asked why I wanted to know and that would have been awkward. I preferred to invite him to be part of my orgasm first and use the shower thing as a fallback if he said no.

So he finished work and I was like “c’mere, there’s business I want to attend to before we head out” *eyebrow waggle*.

“We need to get ready to go,” he said.

I said “Yeah, but we’re about to be at your mom’s all day so this is my one chance. And it’ll be faster if I have something pretty to look at.”

The Dandy (naked, having taken his clothes off once he’d finished his work) came and lay next to me on the bed. I took out my Hitachi and went to work…and he kept on just lying there. Like not even looking at me or anything. Staring at the ceiling. I know I said I wanted to use him for visual stimulation, but to most people that would mean putting on a bit of a show or something, or even embellishing a bit by actually touching and kissing me. Who says yes to helping someone get off and then lies there like they’re making grocery lists inside their head?! It seemed like he didn’t particularly want to be there and it was depressing as hell. In retrospect I suppose I should’ve stopped and asked him what was up. At the time I just figured hey, he came in here when I asked him to, and other times when I’ve asked him to come do sexual stuff with/to me he’s rejected me, so we’re probably fine on the consent front; he may not be acting enthusiastic about it for whatever reason but he willingly chose to be here.

When I got out my dildo and asked him to use it on me he did, though. I got off in five minutes flat (probably less) and he kept on stimulating me until I was allllllll the way done (so it seemed like he was enjoying helping and not just grudgingly doing the absolute minimum possible? I think?). A few seconds later I realized there was more in the queue, so to speak, and fired up the Hitachi again and came again within like forty seconds. “Okay, now I’m good to get ready and go out,” I proclaimed, happily.

The Dandy then hopped in the shower…and remained there for an hour. No exaggeration.

He’s told me before that showering is how he gets his head straight when he’s got a lot of stuff to process, so I got scared that his preliminary lack of enthusiasm for getting me off had some deep, deep root of hatred to it and he was in there figuring out whether it was still worth even being with me. When he came out and I asked him if he was okay and at first he didn’t know what I was even talking about. I pointed out he’d been showering for an hour and I know the shower is where he does his thinking and he was like “Oh yeah no I just got distracted thinking about how I’m gonna make this cutting board.” (He’s been obsessing lately on getting a fancy wood cutting board and now thinks he might just make it himself.) Normally AnxietyBrain would tell me that he was in fact plotting to break up with me and the cutting board thing was just a cover, but his tone was so light and surprised. If it was a lie’d have to be a criminal mastermind to pull off his attitude of pleasant, mildly-surprised absent-mindedness. So I think we’re good, on that front anyway.

I said “Okay, but just for the record, telling me I can’t take five minutes to get off because we have to hurry up and leave but then hopping in the shower for an hour is kinda bullshit.” I then had a realization: “Wait, did ‘we have to get ready’ mean ‘we have to get ready,’ or was it a secret code for ‘I don’t want to do anything sexual with you’ and I didn’t pick up on that because I’m not good at hinty stuff?”

“No, it really meant ‘we have to get ready.’ And I only said it because I thought you were looking to have sex, which would’ve taken a lot longer.” (FYI The Dandy always uses “sex” to mean “penis goes in vagina”. I’ve gotten in that habit with him too, now, although with anyone else I’d use the word lesbian-style to mean “stuff we do together that is fun and orgasmy.”)

I facepalmed. “Then say that. Say ‘is it sex you’re after, here? Because I feel like that would set our schedule back too much.’ Or ‘I don’t wanna have sex but we can do other stuff.’ You use your words. Right?”

He of course said nothing.

I added “Oh, and in future if you could manage to seem less obviously bored and resentful with doing sexual stuff with me, that’d be great.”

He still didn’t say anything but I could tell he knew exactly what I was talking about. There was no facial expression of “Oh shit, did I accidentally look like I wasn’t into it?”


Much later, as we drove back from his mom’s place, I gave an impromptu speech that explained some things further:

Okay so to clarify some stuff from earlier: as you know, I’m very probably on the autism spectrum somewhere, so sometimes I don’t pick up on subtleties. I have learned that there’s a thing people do called a “soft no” where they don’t wanna do a thing but instead of saying that, they kind of deflect. They’ll say “oh sorry I can’t” or whatever. I’m pretty good at knowing when someone’s giving me a soft no, except if they phrase it like an excuse. Then my first instinct is to take it at face value that they really do want to do the thing, they just shouldn’t do it, because reasons. And if I see a way around their reasons, I’ll say so – like, “Oh, but tomorrow is Saturday so you don’t have to wake up early. We can have sex!”

When I do that, I genuinely believe I’m helping remove the barriers between the other person and the thing they want. But the other person probably sees me as ignoring their ‘no.’ And they continue to deflect me until I give up, and half the time weeks or months pass before I suddenly realize ‘ohhhhh shit he never wanted to fuck me/date me/whatever in the first place and I didn’t pick up on it and I kept pursuing and he probably thinks I’m a rapist stalker monster’ and I feel terrible about it. I prefer very much for someone to be polite but direct when they reject me so I don’t have to wonder what they really mean.

Anyway, please don’t ever think I’m trying to blow past a “no” from you. I’d never do that on purpose. I just don’t get things, sometimes.

The Dandy smiled and nodded said he understood. I hope so, because I think he is the kind of person who would say “we have to get ready” when he really meant “I don’t want to engage with you sexually right now.” AnxietyBrain wonders if that’s exactly what he meant when he said it earlier, in fact. And it would crush me if he thought I was being rapey when really I just didn’t realize that he was using eighty layers of secret code over his actual fucking thoughts.

I don’t know why he’s so terrible at being transparent with me. I know he has some baggage left over from Dandette, who’d usually fly off the handle at rejection or at any perceived criticism of her. But: 1) I am not Dandette.  I don’t react to things the way she does, and I’ve been dating The Dandy for I think about two years now – almost half a year of that with Dandette entirely out of the picture. At what point is he gonna figure out that he can talk to me?!? 2) The Dandy has said that he only has actual orgasms with someone (vs just ejaculating) when he feels safe with them. He orgasms with me; he didn’t with Dandette. It seems like he does feel he can be vulnerable with me. So…why does he still approach so many things obliquely instead of just saying shit to me?


*If there’s another big issue that keeps coming up for us (well, for me) it’s that he seems vaguely repulsed by my genitals. Won’t go down on me, ever. Doesn’t fingerbang me anymore. I feel like he really doesn’t want to touch my vulva with anything but his dick, and it bothers me a lot. I suspect some of these feelings of mine are anxiety/paranoia based, though, which is why I haven’t given up on asking him to touch me sometimes.

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Life hack

So, this week I have five days off in a row* for the first time in, I dunno, a year probably. Maybe longer.

But my anxiety and perfectionism always fuck me up and make me over-preoccupied with using time off to Get Shit Done, and then I don’t know where to start and I end up paralyzed and I do nothing, but it’s not restful because I’m internally screaming at myself the whole time to get the fuck up and do something anything you stupid lazy piece of shit.

And now that I live with a partner again, I put even more pressure on myself. Like I said before, almost everyone I’ve ever lived with ended up leaving me partly because they felt I was too messy, so, I mean…I’m gonna feel like I need to spend my days off cleaning. Even though The Dandy has said that he doesn’t expect me to do this and has no secret resentments about my mess level (ha ha we’ll see in a few years).

Anyway. Even when I was living alone I found it comforting and helpful for someone I respected to tell me it’s okay to relax and have fun and not always be Getting Shit Done.  And it’s doubly important, now, for me to hear this from The Dandy (because we live together and what I do or don’t do affects him). So yesterday, on the eve of this miraculous stint of time off, I asked him to write me a letter granting me permission to slack off. I figured with a letter I could keep rereading it to reassure myself. If he only gave verbal permission then I would probably second-guess it and convince myself I’d heard it wrong.

He did it! He wrote me a letter. 🙂 It says:


This is your official permission to slack off! Remember, your first priority for your days off is to rest, relax, and heal so you’re ready to return to work.



This was so sweet that I teared up. Then I thought “Oh shit, now I have this giant goal hanging over my head of being rested. I should have been more specific and requested that he tell me it’s okay to slack off just because I want to.  Now I’m probably going to end up obsessing all week on whether I feel rested or not.”

But I told myself that really, that’s what he meant: that I should do whatever I feel like because it’ll put me in a better headspace in the end. So far I’ve actually been doing okay; I slept better last night than I have in a while, woke up at noon, and did not much of anything today – in a happy way, not a paralyzed-with-guilt-and-indecision way. I think the letter is working. At least for now.


*Except not anymore because today someone offered me a job for Day #3 that I didn’t feel I could refuse. Which always happens. Welcome to freelancing!

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