Last night’s movie was “We Don’t Live Here Anymore”, a 2004 film starring Naoimi Watts, Laura Dern, Mark Ruffalo and another guy whose name I forgot.

Two couples, the guys both work in an English Dept. at a nondescript college, friends.  They engage in an “urban swap.”  The couples switch partners and things end rather badly, but without mayhem. 

Not a particularly fun filled laff riot like Bob and Carol and Ted and Alice from back in the late 60s.

As luck would have it, I happened to meet some polyamories last weekend.  T, a bi male, and his wife, C, who had recently taken as a lover another woman, Cprime.  They were all headed to the Nichols Hills home of a woman who was hosting a sort of sexual free for all that included 20 people or so and started at midnight.

Maybe you’re interested in this.  Maybe you’ve been to Oklahoma City’s Club Eden or dorked around on Adultfriendfinder. com.  No, I’m not linking to those sites.  If you’re interested, you’ll find them and I don’t want that internet footprint linked to this blog.

This raises all kind of questions for me.  Like, who do you send a valentine?  What does it say?

Are there polyamory valentine cards?

“To my loving wife and her girlfriend”

“To my main man and all the guys at Club Eden”

“I love you deeply, madly, … and also her … Oh, and him … her, too”

For a guy who just concluded that men are goofballs and girls have cooties, this is a little overwhelming.

In the end, I make no judgments about any of this except that it’s not for me. 

I can’t handle one person in my life and bed at this point, so the idea of more than one person treading on my trust issues and control issues and general goofballness makes my scared little boy and internalized mamma and everyone else on my committee (with the notable exception of Id, who was busy whacking off at the time and forgot to vote) go fully out of their mind at the very idea.

It’s funny to me that the thought process I went through was so mundane.  I didn’t want to go to any party at midnight, I was tired. 

I was, however, interested in hearing a little of their story.  I can’t say I understand it, but it came at me in a little bit of a disjointed way at least in part because they were drinking and going into the tank.  That was another reason not to indulge; I dislike being around drunks.

So, it’s funny to me that I didn’t have any moral repugnance and high ground on that score and it wasn’t even the fear of an STD, although sex and death (AIDS) are powerful stimulants.

I really just kind of didn’t want to get sweaty and have to get dressed again.

I wonder if things would have been different if it had been Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie.

One of my own personal issues with polyamory is that I don’t share well with others.  I mean, I have a reputation as being a guy who won’t even share an ashtray.  Share a lover?  Not happening.

And, I’m completely unsure how this dovetails, if it does, with my conclusion that girls have cooties and guys are goofballs.  Does a bisexual polyamory male get cooties on his goofballs?  Does a bisexual polyamory female roll her cooties into a goofball?

Very confusing.

So, here we are, bloggers.  We find it difficult in the extreme to understand each other when the topic is one guy, one girl and a standard, no frills, romantic relationship.  How may we regard the situation when what one wants is multiple partners and/or sex with persons of both genders?

Is there really such a thing as “no strings” sex?  Have these people actually found a way to have their sexual needs met without any of the messy emotions that go with that for most of the rest of us?

Someone else will have to figure it out.  I don’t have any great moral truth or insight into humanity. 

All I know is that it’s not for me.  I’m issued up and can’t take on further issues like that.  I’d have to give up one of the beloved issues I already have and I’m too attached to my passive agressiveness and trust and control issues to let them go.  Things are difficult enough for me as it is.  I’m basically afraid of sex in the first place and have to kind of screw up my courage, so to speak, just to have one person of the opposite gender in my bed for sexual purposes.  I’ve never met a guy I wanted to kiss.  I don’t want to share my partner with someone else, not even another woman, and not even if it’s a threesome.  (way too conflicting and confusing for me).

But, Angelina Jolie … well … good thing I’ll never have to face that choice.