Sex and Dragons, who doesn't love it?

I eagerly devoured the stories of PERN as a high school, wishing I could have a dragon or a firelizard as my personal companion. But I never really noticed the sexual nature of the books. Mating dragons broadcasting their sexuality to entire communities; gay sex and gay relationships; and, of course, non-monogamy. The original books were written in the late 60s, so maybe the stuff just seaped into by way of the decade, like references to Shakespeare in Victorian era fiction, but I find it fascinating.

There are some literary conveniences, heroines are less likely to be highly promiscuous than more ambitious females with fewer scruples. But there is an understanding in the books that sometimes a woman might partner with a man because he was good at his job while reserving her passion for another. (Later stories highlight this, in some ways allowing PERN to evolve in similar fashion to real life gender politics ... although the more gender equitable stories are set in the past ... )

Trust and icy roads.

A few weeks ago my lover and I were driving to Denver for a weekend of fun to celebrate my birthday. On the way, he changed lanes and the car spun out of control. My impressions of the experience are mental vignettes. Watching him frantically spin the wheel to keep us upright and out of danger as we spun in complete circles and zig zagged across the freeway. Red taillights and white headlights melding together in my vision as I clung to door handle and tried to think helpful thoughts. My phone flying out of my hand as we hit the guardrail and bounced into the middle of the freeway. We were lucky, in all ways, and I was incredibly grateful for his driving skill. There were cars, concrete barriers, and opportunities to roll, all of which he avoided.

Driving home from Glenwood Springs this weekend was our first snow driving experience since the Close Call. Roads restricted, chains recommended, poor visibility, and leaving in the late evening all combined to increase the driving tension. I didn't want to burden T. with the extent of my neurosis, but our tell all policy seems to be unstoppable. So driving through the mountain passes, we talked about the nature of our fear. He was driving more cautiously because of our recent experiences. And I was riding more tensely for the same reason.

The experience was enlightening, for both of us. And beyond just driving. We've had poly experiences that were the equivalent of the icy roads and now we have a handy metaphor for the relationship equivalent of spinning out.

More Sex is Safer Sex!

Browsing through a Nantucket bookstore with my (very Baptist) cousin, I picked this book up and thumbed through it. Just released in hardcover, it was a little beyond my book budget. I don't tend to use library books because they get a little testy if you mark them up and I tend to read with a pencil in hand. (Which also makes me reluctant to lend books out, since you have instant access to my inner world reading through it!)

The title essay is the result of applying economic theory to lower the infection rate of sexually transmitted infections. There is something a little off-kilter about applying cost-benefit analysis to this topic (or my favorite chapter which "proves" that having daughters increases the chances of divorce for parents). But it definitely gets your mind moving in new circles.

If you enjoy the occasional mind jump, this is a great book for short, bite size shots of alterna-thinking.

Fear.

When I was 16 and living in Europe, my friend received a day trip to Austria for her birthday. We happily boarded the train and headed for adventure, eager to see the city. Except we didn't. We spent the entire day within sight of the train station. Because I was terrified if we lost sight of it, we'd never find our way back. For 9 hours, we strayed no further than a few blocks from where we started. April was frustrated and angry. But she didn't leave me. (I'm not sure why. But she got back at me later when we went to Italy. A story for another day.) She just kept trying to convince me to see the city with her. I finally conceded and we checked out some shops and a coffee place.

I haven't thought of that trip in years. But it came back to me last week. How convinced I was that leaving the safety of our starting point would be our doom. That we would lose our way and never find it again. I didn't even believe in bread crumbs, I guess. Certainly didn't trust maps. I wonder how much in life is due to a similar fear that I will lose my way.

When I see people young and fearless, eager to wander through the city, certain they will return. I envy them. And I want to warn them. Because when I finally did start exploring, it certainly took more than 9 hours for me to find my way back. I think it was worth it, I've seen a lot of amazing things. But it wasn't comforting. It wasn't safe.

Safer what?