Exhibitionism - yay! (Please pass the handcuffs.)

When I first started using Facebook, it was a great way to unleash my inner exhibitionist (oxymoron?) without much risk.  Today however, I have enough Facebook friends, that the risk is slightly bigger - especially since supposedly employers look at those things, though, given that I don't engage in illegal activity (to the best of my knowledge), I'm not sure how my personal life is related to my qualifications for employment.

In a sense, this blog has replaced Facebook: Since it's quasi-anyonymous, I feel quite free - though not free enough to start chronicling my lovelife and calling this blog "Semite in the City", as a brilliant friend of mine recently suggested.*

So here is my exhibitionism, in the form of moments in my life from the past week:

A friend of mine recently told me that s/he saw a ketubah with a picture of Adam and Eve on it, and the Eve had realistic boobage. My immediate response was: That's awesome! I want realistic boobage on my ketubah. To which the response was: Why aren't you gay?

I get asked that all the time!** I also get asked, "Are you gay?", quite a lot - usually because I'm being hit on by a woman, or solicited by a man for a threesome. (So why doesn't the man ask if I'm "bi" - I could hypothetically be gay, and not into men, thus invalidating me for the purposes of a menage a trois?).

Also, I recently expressed a desire for both me and my husband to wear wedding dresses under the chuppah, and have introduced myself as, "Hello, my name is X - and I promise I'm not obsessed with sex", when meeting someone while in the midst of a rant-y discussion about Jewish sexual ethics - a topic very near and dear to my heart - not to mention my lady-bits.

 I got into a random conversation  (half in Hebrew half in English) at (one of) the local Starbucks with a random ex-Hasid, who lived in Israel for four years and now works in China. A great New York moment. It all started when he saw the Hebrew letters on the back of my Save Darfur sweatshirt and asked if I was Israeli.

I had a conversation with my mom about whether one has to be tzefolygen to be meshige, and whether it was possible to be meshige without being tzefloygen - which is pretty funny, considering that I don't really speak Yiddish.

Also, I recently told a friend of mine that the number of creepy guys in my life was much higher since he went away, and is no longer around to call me stupid - to which he sent a response email, that was just the word "Stupid", over and over. Who would have thought an email calling me stupid could make me so happy?

 

I have things more revealing to reveal, but because cyberspace is never anonymous anymore, I'm going to have to chain my exhibitionist for tonight, and reveal no more. Please pass the handcuffs.

*My lovelife probably reads like a great, "What not to do" manual, for the most part - which is arguably what "Sex and the City" is, to begin with. I will stop myself from psychologically analzying Carrie, but suffice it to say, I've spent waaaay too much time doing so. Of course, there have been good moments too - and great guys :)
** Answer: I like cock?