What I'm Looking for, anyway...Part 1

"So" you may say, "you sure can blah the blah and yadda yadda about the reasons you want a wife, your conceptual ideals of unconventional marriage, and needlessly apologize for your opinions and tone the whole time. Sweet. But I have seen nil, perhaps less, on what you are actually looking for in a partner. Besides that she be amenable to weird tentacle sex and may or may not be a vegan and willing to marry you. WTF?"

Ok, ok, ok, I working up to it. Let me start slow.

Where to begin: personality, looks, values, style?
It feels strange to just make a list of what I find really attractive in a person, especially since these things tend to be both mutable and communicable for me. How can you pick falling in love out of a list? It seems dehumanizing, and objectifying (which I am not altogether opposed to ) and by its nature one-dimensional and incomplete.

But man, my life is wound and strewn with little lists, I am such a mad-crazy list maker I get a little uncomfortable if I leave the house without tools to make notes and lists. So it seems a fitting, if not flattering, format for a patchwork Frankenstein's monster of what I might love.

And honestly, I really enjoy learning to love, and if not love, appreciate, and if not appreciate, at least understand better the differences in taste or style or opinions of the people I come to love. That feeling of being opened, to seeing differently, more vividly, that thought of "well I would never pick that coat/meal/course of study/trick but I can see how it would be perfect for ____" is really special to me and makes me feel both emotionally limber and fully loving.

One more thing about lists. I tend to like the format that I learned through BDSM, but which I've heard that the late, great Cynthia Slater brought to the BDSM community from her business background. It's called "3 lists", I think. Basically the format is three different columns; one for "definitely yes!", one for "maybe, or indifferent" and one for "absolutely no". In BDSM we use the 3 lists to help people figure out their interests and boundaries, to ascertain whether our desires for play are compatible and to try to make sure we don't accidentally pop bubblegum in someones face while they are tied to a tire swing if that is the thing that brings up a bunch of childhood trauma. For my wife-hunt I will mostly likely use something approximating the 3 lists format to flesh out the things that I really like and dislike.

So as long as we can all agree on the caveat that these things are never going to be wholly representative, can and do change, and I am not bound to love nor restricted from loving people and the qualities personified either on or off the lists, I guess I can start.


Just not right now.

Thanks for talking back, and what's with me and the vegans?

Yay! People are commenting! Like a little fiend I kept checking back to see... and to no avail. Nobody gave a rat's ass about SLWaW. Or they were sparing my feelings by keeping their cake-holes shut. Ahh...disappointment. But then yesterday, just as a fluke, I found the place where i actually have to approve posts! I was very adamant, you see about retaining the right to moderate comments, but lo, I hadn't actually figured out how to do that. There was a sweet little bundle of comments waiting for me, and you! Obviously I am not a 133t h4kz0r when it comes to the tech learning curve.

And since we are talking about you, you fine denizens of cyber-land, I'd like to bring up a little thing they like to call "links". Yes, links- ladies love the links. You see, I need a little help disseminating my message, so I can get to the inseminating, you dig?
How are all the spouses-to-be going to know about their imminent wivlihood without links? Sadie Lune Wants a Wife could use some hospitality, and would be tickled to get a little rest and refreshment on your homepage. Spread the wed.
Rev. Dr. Splashy Pants alone will not get me hitched.


And the good news is, apparently I also get the vegan vote. Well, I got at least one vegan vote. The last unbearably hot girl to grace my hand, i mean bed is, i mean...we had a lovely (vegan) dinner...well, you guessed it: vegan-shcmeagan mo-meegan... but she gives thumbs up. Whew. I'd hate to come off like a hater. Cuz I'm not. Tentacles or no, I'm a lover...that's kinda the whole reason that I'm here.

VEGAN!


So please go tell all of the amazing, gorgeous, talented, kinky, weirdo, non-commitment-phobe ladies or persons-along-those-lines about Sadie Lune Wants a Wife. Even if they're vegan, what the hell!
Because if this doesn't get me a wife, Carol Queen said she'd eat her hat.
And you don't want to make Carol eat a hat do you? Even if its completely animal (vegan!) free?
No, no, I didn't think so.

Thank you and good vegan.

Nothing's Wrong With Me

Over dinner S and I discussed women, as we almost always do. She's got a major double-breakup on her hands (ah the joys of polyamory!) and I'm still dampened and dripping from my recent split. We discussed our relationship patterns and the ease or lack thereof of finding new partners, after. She mentioned something she's said before, that for almost 10 years, despite plenty of relationship difficulties, she's never had much of a dry-spell. I haven't been nearly so lucky, despite the common mis-perception that I am some sort of gondolier on the deep river of sexuality, my long pole always wet. This led me off to "the bad place" for a minute, trying to come up with reasons to explain my occasional difficulties finding dates. The first thing that popped into my head was "is it because I'm a sex worker or is it my facial chain?" Then I remembered my sobriety (will be 2 years as of Jan 1st) and how much less inclined many people are for a fun fuck, much less dating, without the aid of substances. (In fact I recently had a paranoid pondering that my recent ex probably enjoys dates with her other date more because she can consume without worrying about how I'll feel about it, I doubt this is true, but....)

Just yesterday a preferred client and I had an interesting conversation about the disconnect between how we feel inside and how we are perceived by the outside world. I constantly get the feedback that people are less likely to approach me because I am intimidating. Unless I've got a singletail in my hand or I'm barking off a street harasser, I rarely feel intimidating, more like a big squishy pile of leaking-heart mush. But I understand that my height and stature (5'10", big enough to notice), can intimidate alone, and when my loud and frequently used voice is added to many of the subjects I am known to spout about, I end up taking a lot of space. I can see that being intimidating, even while my internal little lamb-self demurely blinks in the corner. I've decided that if I'm going to be seen as intimidating whether or not I consent, I might as well own it and capitalize on my intimidation (for good!).

After S and I debated the relative weirdness of my facial chain to say, being a big ol' goth,(since she claimed that sex work wasn't visually apparent on me when walking down the street, though I'm not so sure) I figured out that it wasn't really the weirdness that mattered, it was whether or not it was a deterrent. We agreed that was something we couldn't know. I mean, obviously its a deterrent to some people, but we're talking anybody in whom I would be remotely interested. And then it dawned on me; it's not the chain, it's not my work, and it's not 'cuz I'm a teetotaler. I may seem intimidating sometimes, sure, but that's not what's wrong with me. I used to be positive that I was too much of a slob to love, but I know a number of folks with several simultaneous, loving, committed, long-term relationships whose homes make my room look like a zen center.

One thing I've learned recently is that people aren't generally into "perfect", it often makes them feel bad about themselves, unless they perceive themselves to be close to perfect or enjoy a heavily skewed power dynamic in their relationships (the classic 'young ingenue in love with the very successful, skilled and powerful older person' comes to mind). I would venture that what most people are really attracted to in terms of partner material is someone who seems to be at around the same level as themselves, or depending on their relationship to power, a little bit "higher" or a little bit "lower" as far as what they view as progress and success in life. People tend to commit to people that are similar in lifestyle, values, and "success" and an idea that they can grow in like or complementary ways in the future.

So, in fact, there's nothing wrong with me. It's just not as easy as one, or more pertinently, I, would like to get the attention and relationships I want, exactly when I want them. It's not because I'm inapproachable, or crazy or too weird; plenty of socially awkward, crazy-ass weirdos are happily partnered. It's just not easy, and sometimes it seems that knowing what I really want, and being less and less willing to settle for something unhealthy or unsupportive of my dreams, while simultaneously maintaining my commitment to flexibility, open-heartedness and deep, intimate loving, makes it just that much less easy. (The run-ons might not be helping, either. )And frankly, I tend to get most things I want within 2-5 years, but that can be hard to remember in the slow-moving meantime. But that's ok, because this way I get to figure out how to really love myself, making it easier and more likely for someone else to follow suit, and I get to have room for something and somebody super swell when the time is right.

Can you tell I went to a hippie retreat in Oregon, recently? Hey man, that shit worked. Loving myself is going pretty well. Check it out: Heart of Now

Oh, and S suggested I post this picture of me from Paul Reubens Day '06. She assured me it would pull the wifeys to me like a polygamist magnet!

My Dream of Waking

When I wake I often have a head full of soft-boiled stories. In my bed there is a space, person-sized, towards my left arm. I like to drool and sputter out my dreams, I like a warm nude haze that listens, I like to hear in between kisses what drama unfurled while we slept. I like my arms full, I like twisted legs, I like my hips rocking to your song. I want to know your stories and your history so your mornings speak to me in layers. I want your hands and ideas of what my brain is up to. I want my sheets to know your name and wear your perfume. I want to introduce you to my stuffed animals. I want a lifetime of wakings, hairs on the pillows, nights counted in vulnerable throats, our skins slowly wrinkling to puzzle better together. Like a baby I want a blurred face for my waking, a slack lip, each bone familiar and murmuring against the light. I want your heartbeat for breakfast, your fears laid out on my shoulders, if you'd let me I'd swallow every tear like a seed. My bed knows you already, it moans for your weight, the blankets tossed and anxious, please tell it your dreams.

Why I Want a Wife

Today I revealed the existence of this little thought-trap to my friend and "Grouper" (so called because for 4 years I have been his official, #1 groupie), cartoonist Tim Kreider. He is the surprisingly normal looking (actually, cute) man behind the brilliantly fucked-up comic The Pain-When Will It End?, though you would never guess based on his self portraits. He has never been married, but we share many vulnerabilities when it comes to the ladies.

Tim Kreider immediately suggested I seek out an essay entitled "Why I Want a Wife", which was written in 1971 by Judy Syfers Brady and originally published in Ms. magazine. The piece is a political statement on gender relations and the "invisible" work of women of that era. Upon reading all of the duties that many wives were expected to perform clearly laid out, my first reaction was something along the lines of :
"Well shit, I could never do all of that. Clearly that is too much work (not to mention no appreciation) for one person. What I *really* want is a wife, maybe a girl/boyfriend, and a diligent submissive!"

Though seriously, it has been on my mind for awhile that life just seems easier, more manageable, and a hell of a lot more fun, when it is worked with a dedicated team. Feats of endurance that normally make my head explode such as dealing with bureaucrazy, trudging through illness, or wandering, zombified in big box stores become little games, jocular missions, or at very least an ordeal where the burden is shared. The strength and ability and helpfulness of people working in cooperation to live lives and navigate the maze of the world, full of joys and obstacles, often seems exponential as opposed to additional. I think of it as a big project. I want a wife who chooses, as a peer, colleague, and coadjutant, to create this project of our lives together.

And hopefully the submissive will be a great at cleaning my room, because that's a skill I've never gotten the hang of.

An Idea About a Gallery

I had an idea about figuring out how to rig this thing with a gallery of sorts named "Could You Love This Person?" or perhaps "Could You Love (and OBEY!) This Person?", for the submissive matrimony traditionalists out there. The gallery would primarily consist of pictures of me with things on my head; mostly they would be specimens from my extensive hat collection (with a special feature for all my cat hats), but also possibly other beloved objects such as a teapot or a giant stuffed octopus. Surely, that will draw the ladies in droves. Droves!