The Kinsey Scale and PSYCLON NINE!

September 18, 2013

The Kinsey Scale and PSYCLON NINE!

Hello, all!

As penance for my lack of posting in August, I am working on a Movie vs Musical post about The Phantom of the Opera, a post I’ve been long putting off due to how obsessed I am with the musical and how insane the rant is bound to be. For now I’ll do a mini update/rant.

First, the rant.

I tend to throw people off with how openly I discuss the attractiveness of other women. Discussions about boobs (the big/small boob debate sparked by Orange is the New Black comes to mind) and hot female celebrities further confuse friends, and Drunk Dee has no issue with showing her female friends affection with kissing.

I’ve mentioned before that I’m not a fan of labels (other than ‘freak’), and I especially don’t like our society’s need to label someone by their sexual preference. Bisexual, homosexual, heterosexual, asexual…labeling people like this insinuates that sexuality through life is fixed and unchanging. That is something I’ve never bought into. I can say with confidence that most of us are opportunistically bisexual. Situations of isolation with the same gender (prison, ships at sea, private Catholic schools segregated by gender, gender specific summer caps, etc) have shown this time and time again. There are people who are wholly straight or wholly gay, of course, but I still believe that most of us, under certain circumstances, would at least experiment with swinging the other way. That doesn’t fit the prevailing theory of fixed sexuality.

I bring up the Kinsey Scale in casual conversation far more than is probably socially acceptable. The Kinsey Scale is a rating system that ranges one’s sexuality at a given time on a scale of 0 to 6. Here’s an illustration of it:

It has its shortcomings, but I believe the Kinsey Scale is the best representation of sexuality I’ve come across. First, it runs on the premise that you don’t have to be exclusively hetero or homosexual, and that there are different levels of bisexuality. Secondly, Kinsey emphasized that people move up and down the Kinsey Scale throughout their lives; it’s not meant to operate as a fixed label.

To use myself as an example, I would rate me as a 1.2 on the Kinsey Scale. I find just about everybody I’ve ever run into attractive, though not always in a sexual way. I appreciate the soft curves of the female body. I like kissing women; in fact when I was single, I always lamented the fact that kissing girls didn’t turn me on because being a lesbian would be easier than dealing with guys (obviously, I have since found a wonderful guy, and my cynicism has changed.) The problem is this: I’m not sexually aroused by the female body, or kissing women. Now, I have my celebrity crushes—I’d let Angelina Jolie do pretty much whatever she wanted to me, for instance.—but I don’t really have the desire to have sex with a woman I’d actually have a realistic shot with. Girls are soft and sweet kissers, and their skin is super soft and wonderful to touch, but that’s about where the attraction ends for me. As much as I appreciate the female form, it’s the male body I lust after. So, a 1.2—straight with a smidgeon of minimal biness.

Biness isn’the right word.

Bi-make out? Meh.

Ooh! Bicuddles! Yes! I have no gender barrier with cuddling/caressing.

However, in the spirit of the Kinsey scale, I am sure that I may vary on the scale depending on where I am in life. If hypothetically, the Boyfriend and I broke up (at this point, damn unlikely), and I found myself falling in love with a woman, however improbable that is, I wouldn’t have some huge identity crisis. So girls, I’m more than happy to cuddle with you and stroke your pretty skin, and Drunk Dee will most definitely kiss you if she’s feeling particularly affectionate, but unless you sprout a penis, don’t expect more than that.

….weird, weird, weird image.

Marry me, Angelina!

And now, a mini update! All I really wanted to announce was that I WENT TO A PSYCLON NINE SHOW LAST SATURDAY AND IT WAS AMAZING! The minute The Boyfriend bought the tickets, I proclaimed two things: That the night would be fucking epic and that I would not, under any circumstances, meet or speak with any members of the band. I am a firm believer in the value of never meeting your heroes. Psyclon Nine’s music inspires me both in dance and in writing, my two biggest passions, and I take the music that moves me way, way too seriously. I was afraid if I met the band and they were dicks, it would ruin their music for me.

Well, we weren’t there fifteen minutes when DJ Darks Choir, one of my beloved Ination Goth Daddies (Audioflesh is my other one!) who had come to town for the show, led me to the Psyclon Nine merch table and said, “Come on, you’re gonna meet Nero!”

For my imaginary/invisible blog followers…yes, that Nero.

Well, it happened, I met them, and they were all very sweet. A couple of them were even borderline flirty with me (huge ego boost) and they were just all-around personable, approachable guys. And be proud, because I didn’t go drooling fangirl on them!

Well, except during the actual show when Nero put the mic in my face to sing along, and when he pretty much landed on me while crowd surfing. Yes, I can die happy now.

Anyway, life is going to be crazy for me until November (Halloween season is my busy time!), so I’m sure I will have a few more updates, but probably not anything more fucking amazing than this.

Here are pictures of me with some of the hottest men on this planet….er, including The Boyfriend…who will kill me when he reads that.