Jordan/Yuan-Wei: Mothers & Matrimonies

Hey all, been a minute.  Just dropping in to congratulate Jonah/Krystle on her engagement and state for the record that while I would feel like a complete asshole to ask her to choose a date that's either the weekend before or the one after my brother Max's wedding next summer so that I could just take a couple weeks of vacation and minimize the brutal jet lag next June, I am absolutely not above just casually mentioning this circumstance in a slice-of-life blog entry about how I've evidently reached the point in my life where everybody I know is getting married and it's kind of a pain in the ass.

I am, of course, pretty happy for everybody in my life who is tying the knot, especially them, although I'm not likely to join them any time soon; I had a long string of bad dates before meeting the guy I'm seeing now.  The funny thing is that my mother is starting to get antsy, quoting some statistics about women over 30 getting married or having children, and I tell her that wither you consider me a man over thirty or a woman under, but you can't mix them up willy-nilly like that.  She says it's perfectly reasonable - I've lived that long and I certainly seem to identify as a woman - but she's had two kids and is about to attend her second wedding, anything from me is a bonus.

Meanwhile, both of the Chen-Ais got married this summer, and I was a bridesmaid at both.

For original Chen-Ai/current Bingbing, it's to some guy whose family owns a bunch of factories in Guangzhou, who doesn't seem particularly evil himself, but the rest of his family and friends...  Ugh.  This was my first trip into the Mainland, which I gather isn't necessarily that big a deal for a lot of Hong Kongers, but I've been kind of skittish about it.  I'm not politically outspoken, but folks know I've spent a lot of time in the United States and that I tend to take that perspective.  Plus, I'm a Chinese-American guy who has taken over the life of a Chinese woman and while we've all experienced how the Inn's magic keeps people from believing in it, maybe there's someone in the Chinese government who sees me or the "Lee Yuan-Wei" identity as an asset.  Or just a criminal.

It doesn't seem to have bothered Bingbing, though, who after draining her old bank accounts as much as she could without the lawyers starting to lean on her sought out a new potential rich husband, and this guy is probably a good target because he may technically be what they used to call a "princeling" - wealthy family, educated abroad, not involved with the business's day-to-day - he seems to be an earnest socialist and humble.  Enough that, after I'd wound up dragged along on a few outings with them, I asked if she has Inn-related plans for him, and she stook her tongue out saying "yuk, no interest in having one of those things on my body, and his is big that I don't know what I'd do with it."  I gave her a look and she said she liked being Bingbing and wasn't looking to change.  Much more fun, she says, to be the pretty wife who is good at social things than actually running the business

I think she remembered my skepticism, though, because I fucking swear she had the dressmaker make my bridesmaid dress tighter, shorter, and doing more to push my tits up into a plunging neckline than when we tried them on, so I spent the whole wedding and reception looking like I was some tacky Kong Girl trolling for a rich Mainland husband of my own from among the much-less likable folks on hand.  Just gross even when they weren't grabbing my ass.

(It's been a while, but, no, I haven't become a shrinking violet or anything; I just enjoy guys pawing me a whole lot more after we've established we like and trust each other than before, and part of that is them not being asshats because I'm not one to hide what yoga and dance do for me!)

I admit, I did agree to a date with the least-objectionable one, but I'm glad the night ended on a silly-seeming pop-cultural argument as opposed to actually getting near a second date.  And that wasn't all bad; the guy I'm seeing now had actually been in the restaurant and mentioned it when a dating app matched us up, saying that I was right and he was impressed at my willingness to call something a red flag.  So not a total disaster.

I'm happy for the newest model Chen-Ai, though.  As much as she's made some solid progress in that identity, Cantonese is a tough language to learn at her age.  Six months ago, she met a nice man her apparent age that works at one of the large UK-based banks, they hit it off, and when he was reassigned back home, he proposed.  And while immigrating to a new country by marrying someone from there is not nearly as straightforward as people assume - I've reap up on this "just in case" - Hong Kong to the UK is apparently one of the easier cases; the new quasi-stepfather says that making it easier for Hong Kongers who held UK passports before the handover easier to immigrate was one of the few good/competent things Boris Johnson did.

This was a much smaller ceremony, as a lot of Chen-Ai's friends have sort of fallen away as she disappeared and returned as someone else who had a hard time communicating with her.  It's good, I guess; she's going to be starting a new life on the other side of the world and being able to make a clean break is probably pretty handy, but she gave me this big hug like I was her actual daughter and thanked me for how much I'd helped her to be able to get by so that she could meet someone like him.

I'm not sure what to do with that, really.  I know that I was often a real asshole before going to the Inn and especially while I was Deirdre, and I don't really recall a point when I decided to stop being an asshole.  Anne likes to point to me deciding Benny could keep my old life as that moment, and, maybe, but sometimes I feel like I was more intimidated than generous there, or what it means that I had to be made attractive or female for me to treat others well.  I like myself more than I did, and it's not just knowing that there are folks out there who want to fuck me.  If the thing I've got going now doesn't work out, I know I'll be okay.

But Chen-Ai didn't have anyone from her old life when she got married as Bingbing; her real daughter and the real Bingbing are men in Montreal and I gather she didn't really have any regrets about their not being there.  I don't know if the original Yuan-wei will come when and if I get married, but she came to graduation and we get along okay.  We'll find a way to explain why my folks are there.

Is there a point to this?  Probably not.  It's just been crazy hot and busy and I've had my weekends eaten by weddings lately and I needed to blow off some steam.

-Jordo

Tori: Three to Tango

So, I started this affair with Chuck and Julia back in February. For a while things were great. I mean, if I ignored the nagging feeling in my gut that I was just a piece of meat, they were totally peachy keen.

There was the wild thrill of it all. I can't deny it. Getting caught up between two bodies, one male, one female, was in a way the perfect situation for me. I hadn't really felt much attraction to women since becoming Tori, but it wasn't as if I was turned off by them. I just stopped seeing them as potential romantic partners, because they stopped seeing me that way, and in time turned me attention to the men who were giving me attention. Which in the end, worked out, because I gained so many valuable female friendships... most of which have sadly fallen away as the girls have gotten on with their lives, moved away, or been tricked into going to the Inn in Sara's case. And I've been eyebrow-deep in work for so long that I couldn't really sustain the kind of romantic relationship (or friendship) I wanted.

So this was win-win. A way to get my (physical) needs served, expand my horizons even further, make up for lost time, and not worry about sustaining an emotional bond.

And I should point out that they were very good about the whole thing. Not just kind about opening their bed up to me, but about making me feel wanted, sexy, pleasured and pleasurable. It wasn't two women sharing one man, it was three people as a unit, together in a kind of physical poetry. Like wow.

It was everything at once: awkward and exciting, uncomfortable and welcoming, friendly and cold. Sexy and mechanical.

Meaningless sex isn't wrong, but after a few months of that, I started to feel like a ho. That's even a lie: I felt like a bit of a ho immediately, but I pushed that thought to the back. I had nothing to be ashamed of. I felt I had reasonable proof that I couldn't sustain a real relationship - my miserable online dating rounds and the frustrating months of on-again-off-again with Boy-X. There was nothing wrong with consenting adults seeking a bit of pleasure. But I felt weird for giving in to that impulse. Then I felt bad for feeling so weird about it, like I couldn't appreciate it or shed my hangups.

"There's gotta be someone out there for me..." I muttered into my pillow some nights, doubtful that what I was saying was true. I reassured myself: "I'm just killing time until I find him. it'll be so much easier when I do." The question was: when would that happen? The more I avoided it, the more I felt the pressure to get back out there and stop fooling around.

Sometimes I hang out with Julia, for drinks or coffees if Chuck's not around, usually at their place so she can watch the kid. I promised I wouldn't see him outside of the context of our agreement (or work) but I never made any such promise about her. At first I hardly felt like I could face her, given the somewhat schoolgirlish crush I held for her husband, but as time wore on I felt more and more close to her, as a person and a woman, not just a sometime-sexual partner.

I confided to her that it was starting to get to me, that I would have to see myself out at the end of the night, sometimes fighting back tears while they stayed in bed and cuddled.

"I don't want you to feel used," she said. "If you're not comfortable..."

"It's not that, I'm just... jealous I guess. I want what you guys have, but I can't ever seem to get it."

"I know it's not easy," she said sympathetically, "But my big sister used to tell me this when I was young and had dating problems: You only have to get it right once. And from where I am now, I see she was right."

That didn't comfort me much. "I feel like my life is too complicated for that opportunity to ever arise."

"Well, if you don't get out there, it won't," she said. "I mean, what we're doing is fun, I'd keep doing it as long as we're all happy, but if you're not, then I don't want you to feel like you don't have options. You owe it to yourself to find happiness."

I sighed, "It's hard for me. I have a pretty demanding job, a ton of baggage, and an inability to decide what I want."

"I disagree," she said.

"With what?"

"All of it," she said, "First, lots of people have jobs. You work around it, and you make time. If he can't take the fact that you're career oriented, he's not for you.

"Second, I think you do know what you want. You're just tempted to settle for less. Don't. Hold out, but don't close yourself off to new possibilities.

"Third, I seriously don't think you have any more baggage than anyone else out there. Don't let it weigh you down."

I wanted to refute that last point, but it would involve bringing up the whole "used to be a guy" thing (as well as the "manipulated by the Agency" thing) and how that affects my dating. It shouldn't: I'm a strong, competent woman with a lot going for me. The right guy would probably help me let go of that baggage once and for all.

"You're also really good looking, smart, fun to be around, and intensely sexual," she said admiringly, "That'll intimidate some guys, but it doesn't have to. Watch out for that, don't let them get away. Just believe in your own heart. Like I said: It only needs to work out once."

For now, I'm keeping up our arrangement, although I wonder if Chuck senses me just going through the motions sometimes, or if it makes a difference. I sat and thought about my next step, and how to go about breaking things off with them, should the occasion arrive.

Which brings me to the dreaded Wedding Season.

I've been invited to a few weddings this summer... sigh... and it's not like I can bring Chuck and Julia. I don't even really mind going stag (or, I guess it's doe? Stag-ette? Whatever, alone.) but you sort of need a buffer, a shield. Weddings are... tough, as a woman. People expect you to be marriage-minded/wedding-minded/baby-minded (ick, no.) If you're single, people expect you to be vulnerable and therefore approachable, and sometimes that attracts good attention, sometimes bad. They're fun, and a lot of pressure, and part of me does not want to deal with them. But I figure diving headlong into this wedding season is just the kick in the ass I need.

I have a wedding coming up for an old friend of Tori's. Someone I know, not necessarily as well as I eventually got to know Raine and Sara, but decently well. Raine, in fact, will be there.

And I thought, well, if he's interested... I should invite Cliff down.

It's potentially a very hairy situation. He hasn't seen anyone from Philly since he was Sara. Maybe meeting them like this is a bad idea, maybe it could be therapeutic, I don't know. At one point he was going to move out to California to be with some girl, but that ended up not working out and he wasn't seeing anyone, so I asked if it wouldn't be too hard to see the old gang, and he said yes.

"As... friends, right?"

"Of course :)" I replied. "You can be my wingman. I'll be your wing girl."

"I don't need a wing girl, haha" he said.

"Oh, cocky much? ;P"

"Recently, yes. But enough about what's between my legs..."

"Don't rub it in, when it was mine I couldn't drum up any interest!"

"I'll rub it any way I want... you gave it to me. Haha, oh God I can't believe you let me make jokes like that."

"I think it's important for people like us to be able to confide in each other. If that means you making gross references to your junk, well, I'll take it."

He told me thanks again, and has periodically messaged me over the weeks to tell me he's actually getting excited to see the old hometown.

This could be fun... or interesting, anyway.