Fear.
Respect.
Desire.
These will determine how I react when you call me a whore, when you grab my hair and shove your cock past my lips, when you slap yourself across my cheek.
They will determine how willingly I move to do as you ask. Do I feel a threat of force? Do I feel a need to bend my will to yours? Do I feel a wetness spread across my inner lips when you cock your head and narrow your eyes at me?
Do I want to do it for you? or for me?
And more importantly, what lurks in the back of my mind if I willfully decide to refuse?
*grin*
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Sunday, March 26, 2006
Freedom
"The greatest freedom we have is obedience."
Quote from HBO's Big Love, which I finally caught up with today.
I had to write that quote down. It's mildly prolific and eloquently profound when applied to the submissive end of BDSM.
I certainly feel that, when submitting. I know it's trite and said often enough to make people vomit, but think on it. Being free to do as I wish is something we're basically handed at birth in this country. (providing you follow the rules and laws ya ya ya).
But the freedom to absolutely let go of all of your hangs ups and worries and stigmas and issues - and to simply submit to someone else's will - allows you another kind of freedom. The freedom to feel with no worries about what you're feeling
Quote from HBO's Big Love, which I finally caught up with today.
I had to write that quote down. It's mildly prolific and eloquently profound when applied to the submissive end of BDSM.
I certainly feel that, when submitting. I know it's trite and said often enough to make people vomit, but think on it. Being free to do as I wish is something we're basically handed at birth in this country. (providing you follow the rules and laws ya ya ya).
But the freedom to absolutely let go of all of your hangs ups and worries and stigmas and issues - and to simply submit to someone else's will - allows you another kind of freedom. The freedom to feel with no worries about what you're feeling
Standing
Fictious but delicious
Standing
Copyright 2006, Kanthra Adaire
All Rights Reserved
I didn’t know. Honest, I didn’t know.
I asked before I came to see you but you didn’t ever answer me directly.
The shock on my face was real.
The tightness in my chest was real.
The inability to breathe was real.
Your eyes. Good lord, your eyes went dark.
I had seen them light only moments before, when I arrived.
Then dark, nearly black, almost invisible in the dim light.
(I’ll ask you later how you did that)
The sharp edge to your voice cut more deeply into my skin
Then your belt did.
Your words pounded my temples
As the blood pounded against my ass from where the leather hit
(no amount of I’m sorry’s helped)
The tears were real.
My cries were real.
My pain was very real.
Internal, external, no matter.
It was what you needed
(and I told you that you should always take what you need…)
And it was what I needed, too
It put me on solid ground
No matter how weak my knees felt.
I’ve never known so quickly where I stood.
And never wanted to stand there more.
Standing
Copyright 2006, Kanthra Adaire
All Rights Reserved
I didn’t know. Honest, I didn’t know.
I asked before I came to see you but you didn’t ever answer me directly.
The shock on my face was real.
The tightness in my chest was real.
The inability to breathe was real.
Your eyes. Good lord, your eyes went dark.
I had seen them light only moments before, when I arrived.
Then dark, nearly black, almost invisible in the dim light.
(I’ll ask you later how you did that)
The sharp edge to your voice cut more deeply into my skin
Then your belt did.
Your words pounded my temples
As the blood pounded against my ass from where the leather hit
(no amount of I’m sorry’s helped)
The tears were real.
My cries were real.
My pain was very real.
Internal, external, no matter.
It was what you needed
(and I told you that you should always take what you need…)
And it was what I needed, too
It put me on solid ground
No matter how weak my knees felt.
I’ve never known so quickly where I stood.
And never wanted to stand there more.
Dating
Had an interesting conversation with my mother yesterday.
She’s one of the first people who told me that it was time to get divorced. “You’ve given him a year, that’s more than anyone else would have.” She was right then.
So I told her yesterday on our way back from shopping that I’m going to just “date”. I like having my own space at home, and I have no need for a one-guy relationship right now. She said “good for you!”
I was floored by that. My own mother, advocating the possibility of her born-and-raised-Catholic daughter being potentially promiscuous. *snicker*
I think my mom would have preferred a different life than she had. I know she wouldn’t have been as extreme as I am, but I’d wager a guess she’d have been a little wilder.
On the other hand, maybe she’s just tired of seeing me get run over by the love train, and wants me to take a break /wink.
She’s one of the first people who told me that it was time to get divorced. “You’ve given him a year, that’s more than anyone else would have.” She was right then.
So I told her yesterday on our way back from shopping that I’m going to just “date”. I like having my own space at home, and I have no need for a one-guy relationship right now. She said “good for you!”
I was floored by that. My own mother, advocating the possibility of her born-and-raised-Catholic daughter being potentially promiscuous. *snicker*
I think my mom would have preferred a different life than she had. I know she wouldn’t have been as extreme as I am, but I’d wager a guess she’d have been a little wilder.
On the other hand, maybe she’s just tired of seeing me get run over by the love train, and wants me to take a break /wink.
"Daddy"
So.
In speaking with one of the dominants I’m getting to know the other night, the subject of “daddy” came up. I have in my profile that that’s something I’m interested in, and have played with before, but he asked me a point blank question, and in truth, I wasn’t sure how to answer it.
(forgive me, S**, I’ll never remember exactly how you worded this…)
The question was something like “Is it really Daddy, or is it just the older man and the younger innocent girl?”
The question actually kinda stopped me in my tracks, because until he said that, I hadn’t ever given it much thought. Truth is, I lost my virginity at 16 tied to my older (23) boyfriend’s waterbed. I have typically liked older men for many reasons (also like younger ones for other reasons entirely).
I’ve done a lot of driving in the last few days. Went up to the Portage area for a meet and greet Friday night, and went to my folks’ yesterday. Car time is think time for me, typically, so I did give this question some thought.
I don’t have any unresolved feelings about my real dad. He’s a great guy – kind, intelligent, affectionate – strict when he had to be (I turned into a wild child at 16, go figure). I find that typically while most people will put the stigma of unresolved issues as an explanation for age play, it’s not really all that true.
My first real experience with age play was in CA, when I was with M. I’m not sure how it started, or why – but it did, and it gave me such a huge burst of sexual strength and energy that I started to crave it. Eventually, we settled into a pattern where “Marie” (my inner child *snicker*) got to come out and play every few months, and that worked for me. In truth, setting aside all of your life experience as an adult to play the part of a 12-14 year old virginal being is not an easy thing. It takes a lot of energy just letting all of your knowledge go for a period of time, and just “being” a child. Not that it isn’t rewarding, fun or sexy as hell – it’s just something that I typically like to mentally prepare for.
I haven’t played with it much since M. My ex, C, didn’t find it remotely appealing (for whatever reason) so it never came into our relationship, and the other brief encounters I’ve had in the last 12 years never felt comfortable enough to bring that out. That’s why I put it in my profile. It’s something I’d like to play with again, to an extent.
I’m finding that there are all sorts of daddy/daughter scenarios. Some I find appealing, some I truly don’t. (I was talking to a dominant, first conversation, and he started to type out this long thing about not doing my homework, and then peeing in the toilet and dipping my toothbrush in it, then brushing my teeth and I just kinda went…uh, pass. Thanks, but not what I’m into).
So, what am I looking for with this?
That’s a really good question that deserves a really good answer. I like the release. I like reverting to a place in time where I had no sexual knowledge or experience, and had to be shown or told what to do, and how to do it. I like the security of that first experience being with someone I “know, love and trust”. It allows an openness and a vulnerability that I do not allow myself very often (I’ve been called a tough cookie more than once in my life, and I do tend to build walls when I’m feeling … not quite safe). (that’s typically why I’m a fan of bondage as well – it removes my ability to argue internally).
And so, would that have to be Daddy? No, I guess in truth it wouldn’t. It could be any older male figure. Daddy, to me, is the most intense of them, but it wouldn’t have to be that. Just someone who made me feel safe and secure enough to let it all go.
I’m still thinking about this, so maybe more to come.
S** is one of the dominants I’ve been chatting with. His name actually begins wit a C, however, so does my ex’s and that would be confusing. S is for his handle. Or Sir :P
In speaking with one of the dominants I’m getting to know the other night, the subject of “daddy” came up. I have in my profile that that’s something I’m interested in, and have played with before, but he asked me a point blank question, and in truth, I wasn’t sure how to answer it.
(forgive me, S**, I’ll never remember exactly how you worded this…)
The question was something like “Is it really Daddy, or is it just the older man and the younger innocent girl?”
The question actually kinda stopped me in my tracks, because until he said that, I hadn’t ever given it much thought. Truth is, I lost my virginity at 16 tied to my older (23) boyfriend’s waterbed. I have typically liked older men for many reasons (also like younger ones for other reasons entirely).
I’ve done a lot of driving in the last few days. Went up to the Portage area for a meet and greet Friday night, and went to my folks’ yesterday. Car time is think time for me, typically, so I did give this question some thought.
I don’t have any unresolved feelings about my real dad. He’s a great guy – kind, intelligent, affectionate – strict when he had to be (I turned into a wild child at 16, go figure). I find that typically while most people will put the stigma of unresolved issues as an explanation for age play, it’s not really all that true.
My first real experience with age play was in CA, when I was with M. I’m not sure how it started, or why – but it did, and it gave me such a huge burst of sexual strength and energy that I started to crave it. Eventually, we settled into a pattern where “Marie” (my inner child *snicker*) got to come out and play every few months, and that worked for me. In truth, setting aside all of your life experience as an adult to play the part of a 12-14 year old virginal being is not an easy thing. It takes a lot of energy just letting all of your knowledge go for a period of time, and just “being” a child. Not that it isn’t rewarding, fun or sexy as hell – it’s just something that I typically like to mentally prepare for.
I haven’t played with it much since M. My ex, C, didn’t find it remotely appealing (for whatever reason) so it never came into our relationship, and the other brief encounters I’ve had in the last 12 years never felt comfortable enough to bring that out. That’s why I put it in my profile. It’s something I’d like to play with again, to an extent.
I’m finding that there are all sorts of daddy/daughter scenarios. Some I find appealing, some I truly don’t. (I was talking to a dominant, first conversation, and he started to type out this long thing about not doing my homework, and then peeing in the toilet and dipping my toothbrush in it, then brushing my teeth and I just kinda went…uh, pass. Thanks, but not what I’m into).
So, what am I looking for with this?
That’s a really good question that deserves a really good answer. I like the release. I like reverting to a place in time where I had no sexual knowledge or experience, and had to be shown or told what to do, and how to do it. I like the security of that first experience being with someone I “know, love and trust”. It allows an openness and a vulnerability that I do not allow myself very often (I’ve been called a tough cookie more than once in my life, and I do tend to build walls when I’m feeling … not quite safe). (that’s typically why I’m a fan of bondage as well – it removes my ability to argue internally).
And so, would that have to be Daddy? No, I guess in truth it wouldn’t. It could be any older male figure. Daddy, to me, is the most intense of them, but it wouldn’t have to be that. Just someone who made me feel safe and secure enough to let it all go.
I’m still thinking about this, so maybe more to come.
S** is one of the dominants I’ve been chatting with. His name actually begins wit a C, however, so does my ex’s and that would be confusing. S is for his handle. Or Sir :P
Invincible
Invincible
Thursday when I got home from work, I started thinking about what I was going to wear to the local meet and greet for a group I belong to on AFF. As I was putting my outfit together, it occurred to me that I’d dropped a couple sizes in the last couple of months, and I had some new options, namely, my biker jacket. I tried it on. It fit! I was in heaven.
This jacket is symbolic to me. I bought it when my ex in Ca, M., bought his 97 FLSTS at a shop in Santa Cruz. The bike was new, the jacket was new, it was a new experience for us. In 3 years, we put over 30K miles on the bike (and the jacket) and I always felt so free, so strong, so sexy sitting on the back of that machine.
When I slipped the jacket on Thursday night, I felt all of those things again, and felt an additional emotion: I felt invincible.
I love the way the jacket smells, the way it feels against my skin. The weight of it reminds me continuously that it’s there, and I even love the way it creaks when I move. It reminds me of a time when I felt safe, secure, and open to every possibility in life.
I wore it to the meet and greet on Friday and I know it alleviated my fear of meeting new people in a group setting like that. It was wonderful.
Thursday when I got home from work, I started thinking about what I was going to wear to the local meet and greet for a group I belong to on AFF. As I was putting my outfit together, it occurred to me that I’d dropped a couple sizes in the last couple of months, and I had some new options, namely, my biker jacket. I tried it on. It fit! I was in heaven.
This jacket is symbolic to me. I bought it when my ex in Ca, M., bought his 97 FLSTS at a shop in Santa Cruz. The bike was new, the jacket was new, it was a new experience for us. In 3 years, we put over 30K miles on the bike (and the jacket) and I always felt so free, so strong, so sexy sitting on the back of that machine.
When I slipped the jacket on Thursday night, I felt all of those things again, and felt an additional emotion: I felt invincible.
I love the way the jacket smells, the way it feels against my skin. The weight of it reminds me continuously that it’s there, and I even love the way it creaks when I move. It reminds me of a time when I felt safe, secure, and open to every possibility in life.
I wore it to the meet and greet on Friday and I know it alleviated my fear of meeting new people in a group setting like that. It was wonderful.
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Data
I've been at work for 45 minutes. I don't feel like being here. I'd rather be home immersed in writing some deep, detailed, dirty erotica.
It's not that I don't like my job. I do. I'm a systems analyst. I deal with very finite things like programming code and data - things that don't argue, aren't moody and tempremental. I prefer my code and data to working with people. At least with them, I always know where I stand.
People, though. People are different.
I've been "online" for about 13 years now. Started way back with the AOL bastards, and proceeded up to high speed internet :D I've met so many wonderful people - some of which I've actually met and become close friends with offline - from all different walks of life, all different places. I'm involved in community for soap makers, candle makers, navy wives (well, some of us are ex navy wives lol), writing, BDSM, online gaming (mmorpg type), sensuality...the list goes on. And always, there are a few in the bunch who are just...ugh. Moody. Up and kind one day, down and spiteful the next. I do not like working with those kinds of people. I'm a girl who likes to know where my feet are planted, and how firmly :) So I like my data.
It's not that I don't like my job. I do. I'm a systems analyst. I deal with very finite things like programming code and data - things that don't argue, aren't moody and tempremental. I prefer my code and data to working with people. At least with them, I always know where I stand.
People, though. People are different.
I've been "online" for about 13 years now. Started way back with the AOL bastards, and proceeded up to high speed internet :D I've met so many wonderful people - some of which I've actually met and become close friends with offline - from all different walks of life, all different places. I'm involved in community for soap makers, candle makers, navy wives (well, some of us are ex navy wives lol), writing, BDSM, online gaming (mmorpg type), sensuality...the list goes on. And always, there are a few in the bunch who are just...ugh. Moody. Up and kind one day, down and spiteful the next. I do not like working with those kinds of people. I'm a girl who likes to know where my feet are planted, and how firmly :) So I like my data.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Nasty
Nasty.
Someone asked me recently what the nastiest thing I had ever done sexually was. That's such a good question, but so hard to answer. Tastes change over time. Something that might have been VERY nasty to me 15 years ago might be something that is normal to me now.
My ex seemed to have harder and higher limits than mine as far as that goes. There were things that I'd given thought to and wanted to try, but he was very resistent to. And I never knew why. He never said, and if I asked, typically the subject got changed. I got him to put his hand on my throat once, and he slapped me maybe twice, but these were things that were never repeated, even if I asked. I think I started building walls about then. I wanted to protect myself from judgement - I don't know if he was judging my desires or not, but I didn't want to take the chance. This was someone that I didn't want to have to protect myself from, and I resented that, I think. This was the person that I wanted to be able to be 100pct free with, and feel as if I could ask for anything, do anything, feel anything. I thought that's what he wanted too, but his actions were much different than his words. I wanted to be his dirty litle whore, but I ended up being his wife. Maybe he just couldn't - after 12 years of knowing me - see me that way.
I wanted to be nasty. He wanted to be - I dunno. Something else.
I feel a bigger loss from that than anything right now.
Someone asked me recently what the nastiest thing I had ever done sexually was. That's such a good question, but so hard to answer. Tastes change over time. Something that might have been VERY nasty to me 15 years ago might be something that is normal to me now.
My ex seemed to have harder and higher limits than mine as far as that goes. There were things that I'd given thought to and wanted to try, but he was very resistent to. And I never knew why. He never said, and if I asked, typically the subject got changed. I got him to put his hand on my throat once, and he slapped me maybe twice, but these were things that were never repeated, even if I asked. I think I started building walls about then. I wanted to protect myself from judgement - I don't know if he was judging my desires or not, but I didn't want to take the chance. This was someone that I didn't want to have to protect myself from, and I resented that, I think. This was the person that I wanted to be able to be 100pct free with, and feel as if I could ask for anything, do anything, feel anything. I thought that's what he wanted too, but his actions were much different than his words. I wanted to be his dirty litle whore, but I ended up being his wife. Maybe he just couldn't - after 12 years of knowing me - see me that way.
I wanted to be nasty. He wanted to be - I dunno. Something else.
I feel a bigger loss from that than anything right now.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Satin
After shopping last night online for some new lingerie, I decided it was time to sort out the stuff I have, and see what's too big, and what fits now that didn't before.
See, I'm a lingerie whore. You might not know it by looking at me, but playing dress up before sex is so much fun for me, especially now that I feel better about how I look in the stuff.
Anyway, I made a pile of stuff I know is too big, and at the bottom of the drawer, I found a chemise - long, dark red, slinky, sexy, floor length (ok, not exactly lingerie, but sexier than the 12 year old tshirt I usually sleep in). I looked at it, and asked myself "Why aren't we sleeping in *that*?"
So I did.
I love the feel of satin against my skin. I slept very well. Even though it's too big now, and sorta just hangs on me, I'm still going to wear it to sleep in, because it makes me feel like a goddess. It's also very sexy because I'm very bare up top, back and shoulders, and my hair dances across my skin in a very sensual way.
So regardless of what I spend my weekend doing (cleaning blech), I get to spend my weekend nights wrapped in satin and feeling very....much like my old self.
See, I'm a lingerie whore. You might not know it by looking at me, but playing dress up before sex is so much fun for me, especially now that I feel better about how I look in the stuff.
Anyway, I made a pile of stuff I know is too big, and at the bottom of the drawer, I found a chemise - long, dark red, slinky, sexy, floor length (ok, not exactly lingerie, but sexier than the 12 year old tshirt I usually sleep in). I looked at it, and asked myself "Why aren't we sleeping in *that*?"
So I did.
I love the feel of satin against my skin. I slept very well. Even though it's too big now, and sorta just hangs on me, I'm still going to wear it to sleep in, because it makes me feel like a goddess. It's also very sexy because I'm very bare up top, back and shoulders, and my hair dances across my skin in a very sensual way.
So regardless of what I spend my weekend doing (cleaning blech), I get to spend my weekend nights wrapped in satin and feeling very....much like my old self.
Friday, March 17, 2006
There is more to me than this
I'm an intelligent woman. I can hold my end of a conversation about nearly any topic just fine. I'm a systems analyst. I'm a writer.
I have a rich imagination. I dream in stories and colors and smells.
I love to bake, but rarely do. I nearly turned in my geek hat for pastry chef school this past year.Gayle Gand is a personal hero of mine.
I've read the entire Gregory MacGuire series of books. Have you?
Fantasy fiction - stories about other worlds and times - is my current favorite. I've even forayed into writing it a bit.
Sarah McLachlan sings what I feel. Then again, Motley Crue and Bob Seger make me dance, so which is better?
I have a rich imagination. I dream in stories and colors and smells.
I love to bake, but rarely do. I nearly turned in my geek hat for pastry chef school this past year.Gayle Gand is a personal hero of mine.
I've read the entire Gregory MacGuire series of books. Have you?
Fantasy fiction - stories about other worlds and times - is my current favorite. I've even forayed into writing it a bit.
Sarah McLachlan sings what I feel. Then again, Motley Crue and Bob Seger make me dance, so which is better?
I'm a sucker for....
3 things I'm a sucker for:
a couple of fresh lillies or irises
a bottle of Porfidio
a blank, spiral bound journal, with a fat pen :)
a couple of fresh lillies or irises
a bottle of Porfidio
a blank, spiral bound journal, with a fat pen :)
Aye.
I got up this morning and realized that it was St Patrick's Day.
Knowing my wardrobe as well as I do, I knew there wasn't anything in the "clothes I wear" section that was even close to green.
Panic set in.
Then, I opened the other door of my closet and peered inside. Green sweater, near the back. Haven't worn it since Portland, so 5-6 years ago.
I warily removed it from the hanger, looked at the size, held it up.
"that's not going to fit yet." I chided myself.
"You wait and see."
It fit.
St Patrick bless me, I'm back in some more clothes I didn't know if I'd ever wear again!
4 leaf clovers for everyone!
Knowing my wardrobe as well as I do, I knew there wasn't anything in the "clothes I wear" section that was even close to green.
Panic set in.
Then, I opened the other door of my closet and peered inside. Green sweater, near the back. Haven't worn it since Portland, so 5-6 years ago.
I warily removed it from the hanger, looked at the size, held it up.
"that's not going to fit yet." I chided myself.
"You wait and see."
It fit.
St Patrick bless me, I'm back in some more clothes I didn't know if I'd ever wear again!
4 leaf clovers for everyone!
Thursday, March 16, 2006
slightly inspired
I guess it's not easy to realize when you're in a bad spot - how bad it is. When it starts getting better, and you look back and realize how dark it was, it makes you run even faster to get away.
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Siren's Song
My horoscope today started with... "If you let yourself be lured by the siren song of ambivalence...."
Well, ambivalence isn't something I usually am lured by. Actually, it sorta pisses me off. But I got to thinking about things that come into my life that I am lured by.....
Siren Songs (and how I’m learning selective hearing)
When my marriage officially ended (not legally yet, just officially in my mind), I made a few decisions, the most important of which being: If you aren’t getting as much out of a relationship as you’re putting into it, it’s time for it to go.
I’ve spent the last few days evaluating the relationships in my life. Things that used to keep me in them – even when they weren’t fulfilling me, or giving back equally to me, no longer will be allowed to hold me. I say that, knowing full well that it’s easier to say than to do.
Not only am I learning to relate to people different, but I also need to learn to relate to myself differently. I don’t have to settle for scraps if what I really want is filet mignon. I don’t always have to initiate contact. I don’t always have to laugh at a joke if I don’t feel like it. I don’t have to respond to something said simply to get my goat.
In the past, my responses were automatic. I’m trying to make them less so now.
I do not have to listen to the siren’s song, and dance for her.
I’ll dance when I goddamn well want to, and not before.
The array of choices before me now is limitless. I intend to sample the ones that appeal to me, and not feel obligated to taste them all. I don’t eat anything anymore just because it’s there – why should I feel obligated to take an option just because it exists?
I shouldn’t. I don’t. I won’t.
Well, ambivalence isn't something I usually am lured by. Actually, it sorta pisses me off. But I got to thinking about things that come into my life that I am lured by.....
Siren Songs (and how I’m learning selective hearing)
When my marriage officially ended (not legally yet, just officially in my mind), I made a few decisions, the most important of which being: If you aren’t getting as much out of a relationship as you’re putting into it, it’s time for it to go.
I’ve spent the last few days evaluating the relationships in my life. Things that used to keep me in them – even when they weren’t fulfilling me, or giving back equally to me, no longer will be allowed to hold me. I say that, knowing full well that it’s easier to say than to do.
Not only am I learning to relate to people different, but I also need to learn to relate to myself differently. I don’t have to settle for scraps if what I really want is filet mignon. I don’t always have to initiate contact. I don’t always have to laugh at a joke if I don’t feel like it. I don’t have to respond to something said simply to get my goat.
In the past, my responses were automatic. I’m trying to make them less so now.
I do not have to listen to the siren’s song, and dance for her.
I’ll dance when I goddamn well want to, and not before.
The array of choices before me now is limitless. I intend to sample the ones that appeal to me, and not feel obligated to taste them all. I don’t eat anything anymore just because it’s there – why should I feel obligated to take an option just because it exists?
I shouldn’t. I don’t. I won’t.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Punishment
I am punishing myself with a wool sweater today. I don't know why else I would wear it except to give myself the itchies all day.
Well, it's purple, and it's vneck and I do love the color. But it makes me itch. I don't know why I keep it.
I wonder sometimes if we don't punish ourselves subsconciously. I have to wonder if the reason I haven't told C to file his fucking divorce papers is because I'm punishing myself for some unknown offense against him. Consciously, I know I haven't done a thing that would warrant his behavior or treatment of me for the better part of 18 months. (oh, when I'm there, he's great but that's cause he wants sex, I'm sure - right now, there's an outstanding email for him (sent 3 times) that he has yet to respond to in 3 weeks)
I know that when I make poor food choices, I punish myself by yelling at my inner self. So maybe - just maybe - we do it more than we realize.
Or, maybe I'm just full of shit and cranky today because my sweater is making me itch.
Well, it's purple, and it's vneck and I do love the color. But it makes me itch. I don't know why I keep it.
I wonder sometimes if we don't punish ourselves subsconciously. I have to wonder if the reason I haven't told C to file his fucking divorce papers is because I'm punishing myself for some unknown offense against him. Consciously, I know I haven't done a thing that would warrant his behavior or treatment of me for the better part of 18 months. (oh, when I'm there, he's great but that's cause he wants sex, I'm sure - right now, there's an outstanding email for him (sent 3 times) that he has yet to respond to in 3 weeks)
I know that when I make poor food choices, I punish myself by yelling at my inner self. So maybe - just maybe - we do it more than we realize.
Or, maybe I'm just full of shit and cranky today because my sweater is making me itch.
Friday, March 10, 2006
The geek in me says.....
[jms@lifetables]$ vi makeLifeChanges.sql
alter table Life add
Exercise varchar2(2006),
EatingBetter varchar2(2006),
;
alter table life drop
EvilSugarCarbsFat varchar2(2004),
Pounds number,
;
commit;
If you understand that, welcome to geekdom :)
alter table Life add
Exercise varchar2(2006),
EatingBetter varchar2(2006),
;
alter table life drop
EvilSugarCarbsFat varchar2(2004),
Pounds number,
;
commit;
If you understand that, welcome to geekdom :)
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Sad, but time.
I took my engagement ring off last night.
I’d been wearing it again since I went down to Virginia to see C. in October, but at this point, I don’t think there’s much sense wearing it.
It’s an emerald – my favorite. Maybe when this is all done and over with, I’ll have the stone removed and remade into another ring.
3 emails and still no response from him at all. I know the boat’s not out.
I guess that’s all the answer I need, huh.
It’s time.
I’d been wearing it again since I went down to Virginia to see C. in October, but at this point, I don’t think there’s much sense wearing it.
It’s an emerald – my favorite. Maybe when this is all done and over with, I’ll have the stone removed and remade into another ring.
3 emails and still no response from him at all. I know the boat’s not out.
I guess that’s all the answer I need, huh.
It’s time.
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Beautiful
Someone posed the question on a group asking what makes women feel beautiful. I’ve been thinking a lot about that the last few days.
I feel best when I’m taking excellent care of myself. Yesterday, after working out and before jumping in the shower, I gathered some of my soap making stuff in the kitchen and made myself an awesome sugar scrub to use. (I make handmade soap and candles as a hobby. I had a business for awhile but it just flat out got to be too much with a full time job). I put my favorite shower scent (Oatmeal, Milk and Honey) in it, and carted it into the shower with me. Using it, letting the scent waft around me in the hot water and steam - *that* makes me feel beautiful. Because I’m doing something good for myself, and making myself happy doing it. Braiding my hair when it’s wet, and sleeping on it until the next day – taking it out and letting these nice, soft huge waves fall out of it (see picture – that’s what I did there), and feeling their softness flow over my shoulders - *that* makes me feel beautiful.
Everyone is different of course. Everyone has different triggers that make their blood run hot and their eyes narrow in ecstasy and their tongue slip out to lick their dry lips seductively. But for me, taking care of myself – something I had never been good at until about a year ago – really does it for me.
I feel best when I’m taking excellent care of myself. Yesterday, after working out and before jumping in the shower, I gathered some of my soap making stuff in the kitchen and made myself an awesome sugar scrub to use. (I make handmade soap and candles as a hobby. I had a business for awhile but it just flat out got to be too much with a full time job). I put my favorite shower scent (Oatmeal, Milk and Honey) in it, and carted it into the shower with me. Using it, letting the scent waft around me in the hot water and steam - *that* makes me feel beautiful. Because I’m doing something good for myself, and making myself happy doing it. Braiding my hair when it’s wet, and sleeping on it until the next day – taking it out and letting these nice, soft huge waves fall out of it (see picture – that’s what I did there), and feeling their softness flow over my shoulders - *that* makes me feel beautiful.
Everyone is different of course. Everyone has different triggers that make their blood run hot and their eyes narrow in ecstasy and their tongue slip out to lick their dry lips seductively. But for me, taking care of myself – something I had never been good at until about a year ago – really does it for me.
Saturday, March 04, 2006
While I don’t endorse divorce for exploration’s sake, this separation has certainly led me to do some interesting thinking.
After a particularly disappointing conversation with the ex, I gave some serious thought to my relationships, and my behavior in them. I discovered much to my…dismay… that I’ve typically been a pursuer in a relationship. It may not always start that way, but it’s typically been me who’s done the pursuing after the initial contact. I’ve always had a very bad habit – though I didn’t know it was bad at the time – of doing the lion’s share of the work, and making it entirely too easy for the men I’ve had in my life.
This was brought to the forefront of my mind on Valentine’s day – when the only gift I received was from a very dear friend. He sent me lilies, my favorite. And I had to seriously stop and think about when the last time it was that a man had sent me flowers without actually having been in a committed relationship with me. Actually giving that some thought, I had to admit myself that I had never really been “courted”. Quite an eye opener for a lady twice divorced(well, once, and looking at #2), with an additional 4 year live-in relationship in her life.
Looking at my life today, I realized that I still sorta revert to my previous habits. I’m typically the first one to send a message to someone when they come online. I’ll be the one who sends an email out of the blue. I’ll be the one who calls.
And I’m realizing (albeit slowly) that that’s not the way I want the rest of my life to go.
With my weight loss comes a self-confidence that I haven’t felt in many years. And with that confidence comes a reminder that – hey, chick, you don’t have to do that. Let someone else take the wheel for a change.
How that’s going to impact my sex life, only the goddess knows. But considering I’ve been mostly celibate for the last 18 months, it’s only got to get better /wink.
After a particularly disappointing conversation with the ex, I gave some serious thought to my relationships, and my behavior in them. I discovered much to my…dismay… that I’ve typically been a pursuer in a relationship. It may not always start that way, but it’s typically been me who’s done the pursuing after the initial contact. I’ve always had a very bad habit – though I didn’t know it was bad at the time – of doing the lion’s share of the work, and making it entirely too easy for the men I’ve had in my life.
This was brought to the forefront of my mind on Valentine’s day – when the only gift I received was from a very dear friend. He sent me lilies, my favorite. And I had to seriously stop and think about when the last time it was that a man had sent me flowers without actually having been in a committed relationship with me. Actually giving that some thought, I had to admit myself that I had never really been “courted”. Quite an eye opener for a lady twice divorced(well, once, and looking at #2), with an additional 4 year live-in relationship in her life.
Looking at my life today, I realized that I still sorta revert to my previous habits. I’m typically the first one to send a message to someone when they come online. I’ll be the one who sends an email out of the blue. I’ll be the one who calls.
And I’m realizing (albeit slowly) that that’s not the way I want the rest of my life to go.
With my weight loss comes a self-confidence that I haven’t felt in many years. And with that confidence comes a reminder that – hey, chick, you don’t have to do that. Let someone else take the wheel for a change.
How that’s going to impact my sex life, only the goddess knows. But considering I’ve been mostly celibate for the last 18 months, it’s only got to get better /wink.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
Hm.
I have never been courted.
Not in an old-fashioned sense. Not in a today-sense.
I meet someone, we spend time together, it progresses. Not once in my entire life have I actually been courted. No one ever had to "work" to get me. I've fallen into relationships as easy as some people fall into a snowbank.
*chuckle* Maybe that's a problem.
I got flowers from a friend for Valentine's day.
I've decided that I liked that, and I want more of it :)
Not in an old-fashioned sense. Not in a today-sense.
I meet someone, we spend time together, it progresses. Not once in my entire life have I actually been courted. No one ever had to "work" to get me. I've fallen into relationships as easy as some people fall into a snowbank.
*chuckle* Maybe that's a problem.
I got flowers from a friend for Valentine's day.
I've decided that I liked that, and I want more of it :)
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