Epiphany and regrets (Selina & Donovan part 3)

“Hitting on bartenders now? That’s a new level of pathetic…” says a woman behind us.

I turn around and there she is, in all her bitchy blonde skanky glory, her arm around Donovan like she’s afraid he’ll run away if she lets go. He has the decency to give her an unimpressed look while I just stare down the whore who stole my sex buddy. Continue reading

Labels are for jars, not people.


I mean, some people like labels. They need labels. Want them. And I don’t mean labels on clothes, because that’s a whole other thing.

I have a couple of friends who have changed the labels they identify with in the last couple of years and good on them. They’re happier now and I’m happy for them.

But me? I struggle to put a clear-cut label on my sexuality.

Yes, I am married to a woman.

Yes, I love her and I feel attracted to her.

But I am not attracted to women in general, just this one I fell in love with.

Like I told a now former friend after my wife and I got together and he was all ‘hahaha you like girls!!’ (at the time, he was very supportive and the first person we told about us), I don’t like girls, I am in love with one. And I don’t feel the lesbian label fits me.

I am however attracted to men. I write about sex with men. I fantasize about a couple of rugby players I really like the look of (and yes, my wife is fine with that, she does the same thing).

Does that make me straight?

Do the combined facts that I’m with a woman and attracted to men make me bisexual? What about the fact that my wife is the only woman I feel any attraction to?

I understand lesbian as ‘person who identifies as female, attracted to other females’ and bisexual as ‘a person attracted to both genders’.

My cousin called me Emma-sexual and it made me giggle. She may have a point.

I happened to fall in love with my best friend (and by some stroke of luck she fell in love with me too) and she just happened to be a woman.

I think you fall in love with a person not because of the parts between their legs, but because of the person you see shining through.

Not sure where this post is going, to be honest. I got sent a quiz by an organisation I follow and questions 1, 2 and 3 were age bracket, country you live in and what gender you identify with. Easy.

Then I got to question 4 and I felt like a failure because I don’t have an answer.



Don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone… (Selina & Donovan part 2)

Home at last…

I’ve never been so happy to see my house. I park my car in the driveway—because waiting for the garage door to open is beyond me at this point—and I slowly walk to my front door.

I’m past exhausted after having had to work from opening to closing seven days a week for six weeks straight because the bitch who’s the manager on paper decided to fire the two design students who worked with me then go on a two-month cruise with her toy boy, leaving me to pick up the pieces in the middle of peak wedding season.

Thank fuck tomorrow is a statutory holiday and I can sleep. Supposed to meet up with the girls for lunch to catch up on the goss I’ve missed but I’ve warned them I might not make it.

God I hope I don’t lie in bed staring at the ceiling for two hours again tonight. Donovan got himself a girlfriend, some skinny blonde thing so no more late night booty calls for me, which means no more orgasm-induced blissful sleep. Continue reading

Quick Update


It’s the end of the term next week and I have 2 big assignments to write so sadly the writing (while still happening)  is getting less time.
BUT! I got Google Docs on my phone so I can write on my lunchbreak. Maybe. Or yanno, late at night when I can’t sleep like last week.
Things are happening in the Valentine’s Day story and the Drunken Calling story as well.