Yet, Holliday allows, "If I really was that protective, I wouldn't come out at all."

Indeed, her ex-husband — we'll call him Ichabod Crane, based on a shared fascination with the literary character that he says drew the couple together in the very beginning — won't be identified by name for fear of revealing their daughter's identity.

But he has a lot to say about Holliday.

At a strip-mall Starbucks patio on one of the last hot days in September, Ichabod uses a receipt from Guitar Center to mark his place in a paperback copy of The Portable Nietzsche. Like his pseudonymous namesake, he's tall and lanky. It takes an hour of conversation before he's willing to shed his black Ray-Bans.

"Kendra and I are friends. I think we have a mutual respect," he says. "I think she'll tell you I'm a good dad, just as I'll tell you she's a good mom. We're more or less joined at the hip for the next eight years, so we might as well like each other," he says.

In the same breath, though, he allows, "There's still vitriol."

The pair married when he was 30 and she was 23. Ichabod says part of Holliday's appeal was her voracious curiosity — sexually, sure, but it was her intellectual hunger that impressed him.

According to him, that was the only one that lasted.

Things started out hot. ("Our second date we had a foursome with his roommate and his date," Holliday recalls. "I thought, 'Well, I guess this won't be a relationship.' The third date, I met his parents.") But, Ichabod says, marriage changed things.

"Kendra was sexually boring when we were married," he claims. "She wasn't willing to try anything. I gave up making suggestions. I can't say I didn't float things out: 'Let's try this or that.' These balloons were shot down with harpoons. Anything we'd done previously was shot down."

"We had a very vanilla marriage," Holliday agrees.

Before they were married and all that vanilla set in, they decided to go to a Mexican brothel. In Mexico, Holliday says, they found social taboos against lesbianism to be so strong that they could either hire an undesirable prostitute to service both of them or a hot one who would only touch Ichabod.

They went with the hot option.

"I got one of those cold, prickly weird feelings," watching him with the prostitute, she says. "I was so mad at him; it was so misplaced. I never wanted to do anything like that again. It was the last kinky thing we did."

Ichabod attributes the de-kinking of their marriage to "the bourgeois Middle West married lifestyle."

The marriage ended after Holliday had a fling with a woman in Mississippi, which she says she cleared with him ahead of time and he calls a betrayal.

Ichabod takes a somewhat sardonic view of the blog and Holliday's lifestyle, tempered with a guarded admiration for her gumption.

"Kendra is very honest and forthcoming about who she is, and I think it's horrible that she has to wear a social burqa," he says.

But he claims he no longer reads the blog.

"I found it boring and self-aggrandizing. There is a kernel of truth, but there is part of it that's professional wrestler," he says. "I'm not going to read somebody's fantasy football blog because I don't give a crap about fantasy football."

"It's really hard for him to wrap his head around things because he's so vanilla," Holliday responds. "Everything I write is true. People think I'm fake. There'll be no doubt when I show my face."

She says he's envious of her freewheeling lifestyle and feels left in the dust, especially now as the blog is going public.

"She's naive in thinking everyone's going to have this orgy of praise," Ichabod says. "But I admire her saying, 'This is my calling, and I cannot do otherwise, so I'm going to stand up for what and who I am.'"

Yet he says the idea of her coming out reeks of marketing: "She's not the most employable person."

Indeed, Holliday's coming out has been a coordinated effort worthy of any marketing maven. She's teased the coming out on the blog for weeks, even going so far as promising a commenter who lamented wanting to see her face that he would, soon.

"I think she's narcissistic enough to think people are going to enshrine and worship her now," Ichabod says. "She has dreams that she's going to be famous. I don't see it as fame so much as notoriety."


On a recent Thursday evening at Sandrina's on the edge of the Hill, about a dozen people sit around wearing "Hello, My Name Is" stickers and having drinks. The crowd ranges from a lemonade-sipping nineteen-year-old to a sixtyish fellow in a bright Cat in the Hat button-down shirt.

There's the Rockabilly couple, the long-time polyamorous married pair — yes, Rockabilly Boy has lots of tattoos, and Rockabilly Girl has blunt-cut pinup-girl bangs. Another poly pair representing PoDGE, a.k.a. Poly Discussion Group for Everyone, can't keep their hands off each other. There's a pair of gay men who've been together for eight years, a few timid folks who heard about the meeting through the Web, a bisexual woman with a small Afro and a poised undergraduate who helps head Washington University's Alternative Lifestyle Association. The fellow in the Dr. Seuss shirt is a grizzled dom who's opening a play space for bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism in the coming weeks — the culmination of years of dreaming and planning, he says.

« Previous Page
 |
 
1
 
2
 
3
 
4
 
5
 
6
 
All
 
Next Page »
 
My Voice Nation Help
0 comments
 
Loading...