I got up Friday morning to go to work and I pretty much already knew what I wanted to wear. (Casual Friday rocks…)
I pulled out a red sweater tank top that I’d bought several weeks ago, my favorite soft denim jeans and my old-reliable white men’s shirt.
The jeans are too big. I wore them anyway, but for the last time.
The white shirt *sigh was way too big. Last time for that, too.
So obviously, it’s time to replace a few things.
I’m a reluctant shopper most of the time. That probably comes from years of not being able to wear the kinds of clothes I really wanted to wear, but even now that I *can wear them, I still don’t enjoy shopping much. So I pulled out my Newport News catalog, and started thumbing through it this morning.
I’ll be the first person to admit that I do *not follow current fashion trends. I’m very particular about what I wear. I have my own style, more or less. Still to this day, if I could get away with dressing like Stevie Nicks did in the 70’s, I’d do it – boots, flowing skirts and tops – all of it. I also like the 'innocent' look (there's a shocker, right?) at times, and at other times, I'm all about showing off cleavage and wearing stuff that fits me *very well. Clothes are a mood thing with me, and none of those moods have to do with what's 'in style'.
I like a bit of a romantic edge to my clothing most of the time, when I can find stuff that has that, but is also work-appropriate (most of the time) because I don’t like to buy stuff I’ll only wear on certain occasions, unless of course it’s for a very *special occasion.
So, I did my shopping online, since I pretty much know how NN’s clothes fit me. I even bought a pair of sandals, since I had to tuck my boots away for the summer this week. (/sad)
Did I buy any of that flowing, romantic Stevie-esque stuff? You bet your ass I did. But only one. /grin I feel good wearing that stuff. I feel sexy. Not even would think it was sexy, but I do – and as I said earlier in the week – if I feel sexy, I am sexy.
It’s a whole different world shopping this side of 20, let me tell you.
Then of course, Victoria’s Secret is running their semi-annual clearance sale, and you know I had to shop that catalog too. You know. Just for the basics…
Next on the list: A pair of real high heels. I haven’t been able to wear them in so many years that it’s time to re-learn walking in them. Even dancing in them. But those I’ll buy in person, because shoe sizes for that (like boots) is important, and they vary so much.
Thing is, even though I don’t really like shopping, by the time I was done today, I was feeling pretty good. I got a lot of chores done around here, and I’ve gotten some writing done. All in all, it’s been very productive.
And now it’s time to write the ‘better’ stuff. /grin
Saturday, June 02, 2007
One of the Three
I've mentioned that I keep a list of topics I want to write about here. Awhile back, I lost my list and had to try to remember what was on it, but now I've pretty much been through all of those topics, plus ones that came up while writing the original ones (love how that happens), except for one.
I don't find myself shying away from stuff very often, as far as my writing goes. I'll take on whatever taboo subject that I can think of, and while I may not get into deep detail with it, I've never *not written about something out of any fear that readers here would take it badly.
But this one... I don't know. Something has kept me from writing about it. Oh, don't get me wrong, I have written about it before, but not in this way, in this direction, which is why it was on the list in the first place. It was something I felt the need to explain; to explore further outside of the fantasy/sexual aspects of it. (I started this Thursday, and am finishing it today, Saturday. That should tell you something *grin)
So while I was working on two other topics Thursday night (yes, I had 2 word files open and was working on two during the same time period. Apparently, my mind had a backlog :p), this one kept creeping into my head, nagging at me, pulling at my shirttails and whining like a petulant ....
child.
Yup. That’s what it is all right.
Princess is a Daddy’s Girl, even if Daddy’s Not Around
I have these different girls who live inside my head. Everyone has different people in their heads; whether they recognize them or not is a whole other story, but I’ve come not only to recognize mine, but revel in them and feed them whenever possible.
I’m not talking about The Anal Retentive Systems Analyst, or My Parent’s Responsible Daughter. I’m not even talking about Miss Verbose, Miss Comedian or Miss Sympathetic Ear.
No, I’m talking about the girls who live inside me who are wrapped around my sexual life.
There are three of them that I’ve recognized and embraced – four, if you include Just Jill. In addition to The Princess, there are the two others; The Insatiable Slut(who wants what she wants when she wants it, but will do what you tell her if she knows she’ll get it) and the Unabashed Tease (who will torment you until you absolutely HAVE to take her your way) . Of the three, I’d say Princess is the least seen and heard from. The other two are much more boisterous and ‘typical’ of my personality. In a perfect world, the other two would get the most airtime, but the Princess would always be lurking in the background, waiting for that one moment when she can come out and play.
I’ve gone into some amount of detail in the past about age play, and my experiences with it. (See any or all of these)
Daddy, Sugar and Spice, The Ad, What A Bad Girl Gets, Oedipus In Opposite.
When age-play first became a desire, and a part of my sex life, it was pretty much right what I wanted it to be. M took it in a deeper, darker direction and while I did enjoy playing that with him on the rare chances it became an option, it wasn’t what I wanted it to be when we started.
And I think that now – having been out of that relationship for 8 years, and into another with C that offered *no opportunity to explore it (C was adamantly against it), I’ve had the chance to reflect back on it, and try to get back to what I felt the very first time I ever called a lover of mine “Daddy”.
For people who revel in the chance to be as ‘un-vanilla’ as possible, any time they get to play with something that’s taboo is a good time. And make no mistake about it, the whole age-play thing for a lot of people borders on the very edge of totally unacceptable. Lots of people look on it as if it’s some kind of incest-wannabe activity, but until M drove us to that destination, it was definitely not on my itinerary. No, my desire to call him Daddy had much more to do with innocence than it did incest.
I wanted to be the innocent girl, taken by an older man who cared about me, was patient with my inexperience, and who wanted me despite the fact that it was ‘wrong’.
“Princess” came to be from that; sharing my fantasies and thoughts on the subject with a friend, who took it upon himself to feed me a bit of that, to see how I’d grow into it. It was an enjoyable experience, and one that inspired me to write heavily about sex and innocence and age-play for a period of time.
Princess went unheard for a long while after that. I don’t know if I’d put her away, or if she’d simply taken it upon herself to remain quiet until someone else came into my life that would fit that bill; that I trusted enough to share her with. She’s peeked out again over the last couple of months, but she’s a bit shyer now. Maybe because she worries about how she’ll be reacted to, maybe because she’s just not quite sure if it’s the right time or not.
Or maybe because she’s afraid to call someone “Daddy” again.
Despite all that, the Princess is alive and kicking, and even made a brief though silent appearance last night while I was talking to a friend. I’ve been thinking about her since.
I’ve written before about how the “Daddy” thing isn’t necessary for me to be able to tap into the innocent part of myself. Any older authority figure would probably work just as well; and has, in my writing at least. “Daddy” just adds an edge to it, makes it even more taboo and ‘dirty’.
(I’m going to use Daddy here, just because it’s easier to type than Older Authority Figure)
So what is it that the Princess wants, and what makes her so appealing to me?
Princess wants Daddy’s attention. She wants to make Daddy happy. She’s willing to do whatever it takes to do that, even if she’s scared by it. Her fear is part of her appeal. But only part of it. Her wide-eyed innocence is also part of it. And the rest is covered simply by the pure desire to please, and the fact that she’s enjoying what he’s doing, despite the fact that she’s scared by it, and she shouldn’t be doing it…
…or wait…
Is the fact that she shouldn’t be doing it the bigger part? /grin She is a good girl, after all… right? Right?? She’s only doing it because it’s what he wants, and the fact that she’s soaking wet and on the verge of an orgasm the whole time shouldn’t mean she’s bad… There are just so many layers and levels to the entire age-play scenario, and so many ways to use a little of it, or a lot, depending on what feeds your erotic mind.
Sexuality is a rich, fluid part of our lives – or, at least it can be, if you’re willing to embrace the parts of yourself that hide in your head and rarely get heard.
Princess got heard loud and clear today, because she was woken up last night. And if for no other reason, I’m grateful for that, because I could finally get this sorted out and finish writing it. Having spent as much time thinking, fantasizing and writing about this particular subject, you’d think these posts would be easy for me, but somehow, they still aren’t. Somehow, her soft voice and quiet whimpers often get drowned out by the other, more insistent girls who live inside my head ….
I don't find myself shying away from stuff very often, as far as my writing goes. I'll take on whatever taboo subject that I can think of, and while I may not get into deep detail with it, I've never *not written about something out of any fear that readers here would take it badly.
But this one... I don't know. Something has kept me from writing about it. Oh, don't get me wrong, I have written about it before, but not in this way, in this direction, which is why it was on the list in the first place. It was something I felt the need to explain; to explore further outside of the fantasy/sexual aspects of it. (I started this Thursday, and am finishing it today, Saturday. That should tell you something *grin)
So while I was working on two other topics Thursday night (yes, I had 2 word files open and was working on two during the same time period. Apparently, my mind had a backlog :p), this one kept creeping into my head, nagging at me, pulling at my shirttails and whining like a petulant ....
child.
Yup. That’s what it is all right.
Princess is a Daddy’s Girl, even if Daddy’s Not Around
I have these different girls who live inside my head. Everyone has different people in their heads; whether they recognize them or not is a whole other story, but I’ve come not only to recognize mine, but revel in them and feed them whenever possible.
I’m not talking about The Anal Retentive Systems Analyst, or My Parent’s Responsible Daughter. I’m not even talking about Miss Verbose, Miss Comedian or Miss Sympathetic Ear.
No, I’m talking about the girls who live inside me who are wrapped around my sexual life.
There are three of them that I’ve recognized and embraced – four, if you include Just Jill. In addition to The Princess, there are the two others; The Insatiable Slut(who wants what she wants when she wants it, but will do what you tell her if she knows she’ll get it) and the Unabashed Tease (who will torment you until you absolutely HAVE to take her your way) . Of the three, I’d say Princess is the least seen and heard from. The other two are much more boisterous and ‘typical’ of my personality. In a perfect world, the other two would get the most airtime, but the Princess would always be lurking in the background, waiting for that one moment when she can come out and play.
I’ve gone into some amount of detail in the past about age play, and my experiences with it. (See any or all of these)
Daddy, Sugar and Spice, The Ad, What A Bad Girl Gets, Oedipus In Opposite.
When age-play first became a desire, and a part of my sex life, it was pretty much right what I wanted it to be. M took it in a deeper, darker direction and while I did enjoy playing that with him on the rare chances it became an option, it wasn’t what I wanted it to be when we started.
And I think that now – having been out of that relationship for 8 years, and into another with C that offered *no opportunity to explore it (C was adamantly against it), I’ve had the chance to reflect back on it, and try to get back to what I felt the very first time I ever called a lover of mine “Daddy”.
For people who revel in the chance to be as ‘un-vanilla’ as possible, any time they get to play with something that’s taboo is a good time. And make no mistake about it, the whole age-play thing for a lot of people borders on the very edge of totally unacceptable. Lots of people look on it as if it’s some kind of incest-wannabe activity, but until M drove us to that destination, it was definitely not on my itinerary. No, my desire to call him Daddy had much more to do with innocence than it did incest.
I wanted to be the innocent girl, taken by an older man who cared about me, was patient with my inexperience, and who wanted me despite the fact that it was ‘wrong’.
“Princess” came to be from that; sharing my fantasies and thoughts on the subject with a friend, who took it upon himself to feed me a bit of that, to see how I’d grow into it. It was an enjoyable experience, and one that inspired me to write heavily about sex and innocence and age-play for a period of time.
Princess went unheard for a long while after that. I don’t know if I’d put her away, or if she’d simply taken it upon herself to remain quiet until someone else came into my life that would fit that bill; that I trusted enough to share her with. She’s peeked out again over the last couple of months, but she’s a bit shyer now. Maybe because she worries about how she’ll be reacted to, maybe because she’s just not quite sure if it’s the right time or not.
Or maybe because she’s afraid to call someone “Daddy” again.
Despite all that, the Princess is alive and kicking, and even made a brief though silent appearance last night while I was talking to a friend. I’ve been thinking about her since.
I’ve written before about how the “Daddy” thing isn’t necessary for me to be able to tap into the innocent part of myself. Any older authority figure would probably work just as well; and has, in my writing at least. “Daddy” just adds an edge to it, makes it even more taboo and ‘dirty’.
(I’m going to use Daddy here, just because it’s easier to type than Older Authority Figure)
So what is it that the Princess wants, and what makes her so appealing to me?
Princess wants Daddy’s attention. She wants to make Daddy happy. She’s willing to do whatever it takes to do that, even if she’s scared by it. Her fear is part of her appeal. But only part of it. Her wide-eyed innocence is also part of it. And the rest is covered simply by the pure desire to please, and the fact that she’s enjoying what he’s doing, despite the fact that she’s scared by it, and she shouldn’t be doing it…
…or wait…
Is the fact that she shouldn’t be doing it the bigger part? /grin She is a good girl, after all… right? Right?? She’s only doing it because it’s what he wants, and the fact that she’s soaking wet and on the verge of an orgasm the whole time shouldn’t mean she’s bad… There are just so many layers and levels to the entire age-play scenario, and so many ways to use a little of it, or a lot, depending on what feeds your erotic mind.
Sexuality is a rich, fluid part of our lives – or, at least it can be, if you’re willing to embrace the parts of yourself that hide in your head and rarely get heard.
Princess got heard loud and clear today, because she was woken up last night. And if for no other reason, I’m grateful for that, because I could finally get this sorted out and finish writing it. Having spent as much time thinking, fantasizing and writing about this particular subject, you’d think these posts would be easy for me, but somehow, they still aren’t. Somehow, her soft voice and quiet whimpers often get drowned out by the other, more insistent girls who live inside my head ….
Friday, June 01, 2007
All Right.
I've been thinking about what I wrote here : about questioning my "submissive" side, and what place it has in my life right now - today, and how that all works together with everything else I've got going in my life right now.
The bottom line is this: submission *is* sexual for me at this point of my life. That doesn't mean it all has to be done in bedroom (good lord, how boring would that be? lol), but it does mean that even the slightest hint of dominance toward me, and it starts things in motion, sexually.
I'm all right with that.
I know that there are people who will say that d/s should be about more than sex, and that's okay for them. At one point in my life, it was for me too. But it's not right now. Even if the d/s interaction has nothing to do with sex directly, that's what it's going to affect for me. Spank the hell out of me, and don't touch me in an intimate way? It's still sexual. Whisper nasty things to me in public without touching me? Yup, sexual. Tell (don't ask) me to do something (* if you're dominant and I've recognized that consciously that is. That doesn't refer to someone off the street. A girl has to have standards....) and it's going to send a sliver of electricity right down my spine, ending you-know-where.
Again, I'm all right with that.
I don't need some over-evolved sense of higher purpose for what I do. If it makes me happy and gives me a sexual charge, do I need to feel more evolved than vanilla people? No. I just know what I like and what I want.
I'll admit that I even hesitated to post that in the linked post, because of how sexual submissives are 'perceived' by so much of the community, but you know what? Perceive me however you want to. This is what and who I am right now
And I'm all right with that.
Whether you are or not isn't any of my business or concern.
I'm not entirely sure motivation factors into it all that much, anyway. So what if I'm doing this to get off, rather than to 'submit my life' to someone else? Just because the starting place is different, is it all that much different in the end?
I'm not so sure it is. But even IF it is.
I'm all right with that.
The bottom line is this: submission *is* sexual for me at this point of my life. That doesn't mean it all has to be done in bedroom (good lord, how boring would that be? lol), but it does mean that even the slightest hint of dominance toward me, and it starts things in motion, sexually.
I'm all right with that.
I know that there are people who will say that d/s should be about more than sex, and that's okay for them. At one point in my life, it was for me too. But it's not right now. Even if the d/s interaction has nothing to do with sex directly, that's what it's going to affect for me. Spank the hell out of me, and don't touch me in an intimate way? It's still sexual. Whisper nasty things to me in public without touching me? Yup, sexual. Tell (don't ask) me to do something (* if you're dominant and I've recognized that consciously that is. That doesn't refer to someone off the street. A girl has to have standards....) and it's going to send a sliver of electricity right down my spine, ending you-know-where.
Again, I'm all right with that.
I don't need some over-evolved sense of higher purpose for what I do. If it makes me happy and gives me a sexual charge, do I need to feel more evolved than vanilla people? No. I just know what I like and what I want.
I'll admit that I even hesitated to post that in the linked post, because of how sexual submissives are 'perceived' by so much of the community, but you know what? Perceive me however you want to. This is what and who I am right now
And I'm all right with that.
Whether you are or not isn't any of my business or concern.
I'm not entirely sure motivation factors into it all that much, anyway. So what if I'm doing this to get off, rather than to 'submit my life' to someone else? Just because the starting place is different, is it all that much different in the end?
I'm not so sure it is. But even IF it is.
I'm all right with that.
Who's in Your Fantasy Life?
The other day, I was flipping through my Stat Counter page, and following the links to pages that led people to my webpage and my blogger. That's always interesting to do once in awhile, to see who has you linked and how people are finding you.
One of the links was something I'd never seen before, and it was an interesting concept. Unfortunately, it's defunct now (not updated), but I flipped through a few of the older postings.
Someone had set up a blog that gave blogging ideas to submissives.
Now, you know me. I get very irritated at all this romanticizing of d/s stuff for the most part, and there was a lot of that. But there was one particular 'idea' that I actually wrote down, because it's an angle I hadn't ever considered as a topic before. It's at home, of course, and I'm at work, so I'll have to parapharse it here.
When you fantasize, is it about people you know or people you made up?
My previous post about porn was born out of this question. I know many people who masturbate to porn almost exclusively. I rarely do, because as I stated in that post, what's in my head is usually better. I mean seriously - who knows what makes me wet better than me? There are times of course when porn works better, because my mind is clouded up with too much stress, but that's the exception for me and not the rule.
So - are the people in my little fantasies people I know? Or faceless strangers?
Typically they are people I know - or at least, know of. While I do occasionally fantasize about things I've actually done, most of the time, I end up taking something that's a fantasy for me, and sticking someone I'm sexually attracted to into it. I have quite a stash of these. Quick, dirty scenarios that I can plug one or two different people into and be equally as turned on. Some, only one person will do. And occasionally, if it's something I'm not sure anyone I know *would* do, I'll put a faceless stranger into it, and go with that.
Some of my best stories were created out of these fantasies. Some of them yearn to be written still.
I'm not a huge fan of faceless strangers, but in a pinch....
I'm not one to fantasize about celebrities. (Oh all right, I have a short one about Salma Hayek, cut me some slack :p). I like real people. People with real bodies. Airbrushing someone's faults is like taking the real out of them and replacing it with plastic. While I realize some people can get hot and bothered that way, I don't.
I do occasionally 'look back fondly' on things I've done sexually and use those for masturbatory material. I have a few in the back of my mind that just spring forward sometimes, begging to be re-watched like a well-worn copy of "Clerks" (without the black and white, and the off-color humor of course. While that's hilarious, it's not sexy). Typically though, if I'm living in the moment, I want to create a situation and roll with it. These stashes of fantasies I have in my head change slightly each time I 'use' them, almost as if I'm trying to either perfect them (so they can be written maybe) or alter them so that they're almost like new.
Of course, the question didn't specifically say - what do you think about when you masturbate, did it? /smirk I took it that direction because that's the only time I really fantasize to any great detail. I tend to not fantasize during sex with a real live person, just because usually I'm focused on that person and what they're doing/what I'm doing. I haven't found a need to do that, really, since I left my first husband (Mr Vanilla) some years ago.
While it's true that you can catch me fantasizing at other times, I typically keep these 'light'. Once I pass 'the point of no return', no matter what I was doing, it's likely I'm going to have to turn it into a masturbation fantasy, anyway /smirk.
Fantasies are wonderful tools. They allow you to explore desires you may not have the courage to explore in real time yet, they allow you to relive things you've done and alter the reality of it to fit your mood. They allow you to be creative and sexy at the same time. They may even show you a direction you didn't even know you wanted to go.
And if you're lucky enough to be able to 'plug in' real people to your fantasies....you have it made.
One of the links was something I'd never seen before, and it was an interesting concept. Unfortunately, it's defunct now (not updated), but I flipped through a few of the older postings.
Someone had set up a blog that gave blogging ideas to submissives.
Now, you know me. I get very irritated at all this romanticizing of d/s stuff for the most part, and there was a lot of that. But there was one particular 'idea' that I actually wrote down, because it's an angle I hadn't ever considered as a topic before. It's at home, of course, and I'm at work, so I'll have to parapharse it here.
When you fantasize, is it about people you know or people you made up?
My previous post about porn was born out of this question. I know many people who masturbate to porn almost exclusively. I rarely do, because as I stated in that post, what's in my head is usually better. I mean seriously - who knows what makes me wet better than me? There are times of course when porn works better, because my mind is clouded up with too much stress, but that's the exception for me and not the rule.
So - are the people in my little fantasies people I know? Or faceless strangers?
Typically they are people I know - or at least, know of. While I do occasionally fantasize about things I've actually done, most of the time, I end up taking something that's a fantasy for me, and sticking someone I'm sexually attracted to into it. I have quite a stash of these. Quick, dirty scenarios that I can plug one or two different people into and be equally as turned on. Some, only one person will do. And occasionally, if it's something I'm not sure anyone I know *would* do, I'll put a faceless stranger into it, and go with that.
Some of my best stories were created out of these fantasies. Some of them yearn to be written still.
I'm not a huge fan of faceless strangers, but in a pinch....
I'm not one to fantasize about celebrities. (Oh all right, I have a short one about Salma Hayek, cut me some slack :p). I like real people. People with real bodies. Airbrushing someone's faults is like taking the real out of them and replacing it with plastic. While I realize some people can get hot and bothered that way, I don't.
I do occasionally 'look back fondly' on things I've done sexually and use those for masturbatory material. I have a few in the back of my mind that just spring forward sometimes, begging to be re-watched like a well-worn copy of "Clerks" (without the black and white, and the off-color humor of course. While that's hilarious, it's not sexy). Typically though, if I'm living in the moment, I want to create a situation and roll with it. These stashes of fantasies I have in my head change slightly each time I 'use' them, almost as if I'm trying to either perfect them (so they can be written maybe) or alter them so that they're almost like new.
Of course, the question didn't specifically say - what do you think about when you masturbate, did it? /smirk I took it that direction because that's the only time I really fantasize to any great detail. I tend to not fantasize during sex with a real live person, just because usually I'm focused on that person and what they're doing/what I'm doing. I haven't found a need to do that, really, since I left my first husband (Mr Vanilla) some years ago.
While it's true that you can catch me fantasizing at other times, I typically keep these 'light'. Once I pass 'the point of no return', no matter what I was doing, it's likely I'm going to have to turn it into a masturbation fantasy, anyway /smirk.
Fantasies are wonderful tools. They allow you to explore desires you may not have the courage to explore in real time yet, they allow you to relive things you've done and alter the reality of it to fit your mood. They allow you to be creative and sexy at the same time. They may even show you a direction you didn't even know you wanted to go.
And if you're lucky enough to be able to 'plug in' real people to your fantasies....you have it made.
Porn
It becomes relatively clear to anyone who's read a bit of my blog that I write erotica. (though I haven't written any lately and I'm chomping at the bit to). I've also written flat-out porn before, mostly to sell, mostly a long time ago. I don't know that I could do that anymore. Unless the money was right *grin
What's the difference between porn and erotica? For me, it's as simple as erotica having a bit of character development and at least a basic storyline. Porn involves sex, period. You don't care about the people, only what they're doing. What I try to do with my erotica is at least give people a character they can relate to in one way or another. I want to tell a story, not just show you a scene from a homemade sex tape.
Having said that, I'll admit that I do enjoy porn, both video and written. (yea, that's shocking, I know :p)
I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with pornography, provided that the people in the film (or pictures, or whatever) are of legal age, and are doing it sober and willingly. I've seen some porn movies where it was obvious that the woman was on some sort of chemicals, and just knowing that ruins it for me. If she's got to be fucked up to perform, she can't be enjoying it. And I want to watch people enjoying themselves. Not to say that "mock rape" videos aren't fun, but I'm talking the reality of the people, not the characters they're playing.
I have maybe 10 or so short porn videos on my computer. These are ones I've found over the years that I deemed worthy enough to keep on my hard drive. I don't find many. Most I end up deleting before I've watched the whole thing.
Most of the ones I've kept have some sort of control aspect. Not outlandishly, and I don't even think I have any with any serious bondage or pain. But there is something about each one of them that denotes that one of the people in the movie is in charge, even if it's very subtle. Then again, I like subtle. /evil grin
I have a few DVDs as well, but not anything near what I used to have. I left most of that with C. I figured he'd need it more than I would /grin
I like pictures, too. Back when IRC was *the* place to download movies, pictures and music, I had a collection of bondage/SM pictures that was well over 1200 total. I wish I had still them. Some of them were amazing. I have some now. Less than 100 probably, and that's mostly because finding places to download them now without getting any spyware/virus/trojan/spam is hard to find.
And of course, written word. I don't own as much erotica as I used to, either. And I'll admit to having a couple of flat-out pornographic novels in the house (where the story is negligible at best). They come in handy...occasionally..../smirk
For the most part, porn gets a bad rap. Yes, there is a ton of it that's just downright awful and yes, some of it is beyond what I'd call 'acceptable' to the masses, but hey - what's acceptable to me may not be acceptable to my neighbors, so who's to really say what's okay and what's not? If someone filmed or wrote it, chances are there's someone out there who's getting off to it.
Who am I to judge, really? Providing it doesn't cross legal or health lines, whatever gets you off is your own business.
Having said all that, I rarely watch porn, or read it. I have a book of erotic bdsm stories on my desk downstairs and yes, occasionally I'll flip that open - but unless my mind is trashed with a million other things, I don't tend to need it, or even want to be distracted by it. Typically what's in my head is better *grin*.
More on that later~
What's the difference between porn and erotica? For me, it's as simple as erotica having a bit of character development and at least a basic storyline. Porn involves sex, period. You don't care about the people, only what they're doing. What I try to do with my erotica is at least give people a character they can relate to in one way or another. I want to tell a story, not just show you a scene from a homemade sex tape.
Having said that, I'll admit that I do enjoy porn, both video and written. (yea, that's shocking, I know :p)
I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with pornography, provided that the people in the film (or pictures, or whatever) are of legal age, and are doing it sober and willingly. I've seen some porn movies where it was obvious that the woman was on some sort of chemicals, and just knowing that ruins it for me. If she's got to be fucked up to perform, she can't be enjoying it. And I want to watch people enjoying themselves. Not to say that "mock rape" videos aren't fun, but I'm talking the reality of the people, not the characters they're playing.
I have maybe 10 or so short porn videos on my computer. These are ones I've found over the years that I deemed worthy enough to keep on my hard drive. I don't find many. Most I end up deleting before I've watched the whole thing.
Most of the ones I've kept have some sort of control aspect. Not outlandishly, and I don't even think I have any with any serious bondage or pain. But there is something about each one of them that denotes that one of the people in the movie is in charge, even if it's very subtle. Then again, I like subtle. /evil grin
I have a few DVDs as well, but not anything near what I used to have. I left most of that with C. I figured he'd need it more than I would /grin
I like pictures, too. Back when IRC was *the* place to download movies, pictures and music, I had a collection of bondage/SM pictures that was well over 1200 total. I wish I had still them. Some of them were amazing. I have some now. Less than 100 probably, and that's mostly because finding places to download them now without getting any spyware/virus/trojan/spam is hard to find.
And of course, written word. I don't own as much erotica as I used to, either. And I'll admit to having a couple of flat-out pornographic novels in the house (where the story is negligible at best). They come in handy...occasionally..../smirk
For the most part, porn gets a bad rap. Yes, there is a ton of it that's just downright awful and yes, some of it is beyond what I'd call 'acceptable' to the masses, but hey - what's acceptable to me may not be acceptable to my neighbors, so who's to really say what's okay and what's not? If someone filmed or wrote it, chances are there's someone out there who's getting off to it.
Who am I to judge, really? Providing it doesn't cross legal or health lines, whatever gets you off is your own business.
Having said all that, I rarely watch porn, or read it. I have a book of erotic bdsm stories on my desk downstairs and yes, occasionally I'll flip that open - but unless my mind is trashed with a million other things, I don't tend to need it, or even want to be distracted by it. Typically what's in my head is better *grin*.
More on that later~
The Ex Factor
I got an email from a reader the other day that asked me if my ex's minded being talked about in my blog.
I don't know. I didn't ask :p
Seriously, C knows this is here. I gave it to him a long time ago, but I doubt he comes anywhere near it, simply because his life is going in a different direction. M? Well, M is a pretty religious guy now (I still can't wrap my mind around what changed that), and I'm almost positive he doesn't even know this exists - and considering that we don't share any of the same friends anymore, I'm sure it doesn't matter. My friend, former "tether holder and muse", R from VA, knows this is here, and even reads it occasionally I think /wink. My first husband? Probably can't run a computer. J? J doesn't know much about 'this side' of me, so I'm sure he isn't aware of it, nor would he care.
I don't think I've said anything horribly negative about anyone. I've been honest about them, myself and the relationships I had (and still have in some cases) with them. It's not like I've given you their names and addresses so you can point and laugh at them on the street. I use them as examples. I write about them when they have affected my life in one way or another, or when they are relevant to me relating an experience I've had. This isn't a blog about how horrible my ex's are. I'd never devalue it, or myself, in that way. As a matter of fact, I am who I am today because of the relationships I have had with those men, and to be honest, I'm pretty happy with who I am today - so how can it be all bad? (*this does not include the jackass I lived with in my early 20's who thought beating women up (non consensually) was his right as a man. No, it certainly doesn't include him.*) I've taken away at least one good thing from each relationship I've had since my mid-twenties.
I am careful about talking about people I have in my life now. I've been very good about asking permission to write about certain things, even though that goes against my ability to "write what I want, when I want." There's a line between being able to write freely and being a good friend, and the line has to remain. I'm all right with that.
I don't know. I didn't ask :p
Seriously, C knows this is here. I gave it to him a long time ago, but I doubt he comes anywhere near it, simply because his life is going in a different direction. M? Well, M is a pretty religious guy now (I still can't wrap my mind around what changed that), and I'm almost positive he doesn't even know this exists - and considering that we don't share any of the same friends anymore, I'm sure it doesn't matter. My friend, former "tether holder and muse", R from VA, knows this is here, and even reads it occasionally I think /wink. My first husband? Probably can't run a computer. J? J doesn't know much about 'this side' of me, so I'm sure he isn't aware of it, nor would he care.
I don't think I've said anything horribly negative about anyone. I've been honest about them, myself and the relationships I had (and still have in some cases) with them. It's not like I've given you their names and addresses so you can point and laugh at them on the street. I use them as examples. I write about them when they have affected my life in one way or another, or when they are relevant to me relating an experience I've had. This isn't a blog about how horrible my ex's are. I'd never devalue it, or myself, in that way. As a matter of fact, I am who I am today because of the relationships I have had with those men, and to be honest, I'm pretty happy with who I am today - so how can it be all bad? (*this does not include the jackass I lived with in my early 20's who thought beating women up (non consensually) was his right as a man. No, it certainly doesn't include him.*) I've taken away at least one good thing from each relationship I've had since my mid-twenties.
I am careful about talking about people I have in my life now. I've been very good about asking permission to write about certain things, even though that goes against my ability to "write what I want, when I want." There's a line between being able to write freely and being a good friend, and the line has to remain. I'm all right with that.
Thursday, May 31, 2007
We are Everywhere!
And the young men aren’t the only things coming out of the woodwork….
The thing about the Internet is that people feel safe in their anonymity most of the time. Or, at least I think that’s what it is…
I belong to a couple of relatively loosely run geek forums. I play mmorpg’s. I run into all kinds of people.
And yet recently, about half the ones I’ve run into admit – freely, and without provocation – that they are kinky as hell.
A girl cracks one dirty joke and they all come running …
And it’s not just men aiming to hit on me, either. It’s women with questions. It’s dominant men, submissive men, bi-curious men. It’s mostly rational discussions about safety and advice, with a bit of flirting sometimes thrown in for good measure. It’s nice to be flirted with, with the caveat, as before that it doesn’t become creepy or stalker-like. It does a person good to feel desirable. If it ever starts to feel gross or again, creepy, I back away softly and get out my big stick *grin
I don’t invite the inquiries/flirts/teases. But apparently, I give off enough of a ‘sexually open and aware’ vibe that people feel an opening to share. Which on one hand is cool as hell. And on the other hand is a little scary. Most of the time, it’s a one-shot conversation about a particular thing. They go away, happy to have been validated, and I get a smile out of a good conversation. Everyone’s happy.
I’m pleased that more and more people are freely admitting that they’re kinky. It’s not like I’m some political BDSM person who wants us to have a movement like the gay/lesbian communities, because I don’t. But it is a little fun to know that there are more of us out there than we think.
I don’t mean to say that everyone is like that. I do occasionally run into vanilla folks who ‘ick’ at the idea of anything other than soft, cuddly sex. I smile at them, and wish them well (a few of them mistakenly found my blog and got a big surprise! lol) and hope that they remain happy in their choices.
That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Being happy in how you choose to live you (sex) life?
The thing about the Internet is that people feel safe in their anonymity most of the time. Or, at least I think that’s what it is…
I belong to a couple of relatively loosely run geek forums. I play mmorpg’s. I run into all kinds of people.
And yet recently, about half the ones I’ve run into admit – freely, and without provocation – that they are kinky as hell.
A girl cracks one dirty joke and they all come running …
And it’s not just men aiming to hit on me, either. It’s women with questions. It’s dominant men, submissive men, bi-curious men. It’s mostly rational discussions about safety and advice, with a bit of flirting sometimes thrown in for good measure. It’s nice to be flirted with, with the caveat, as before that it doesn’t become creepy or stalker-like. It does a person good to feel desirable. If it ever starts to feel gross or again, creepy, I back away softly and get out my big stick *grin
I don’t invite the inquiries/flirts/teases. But apparently, I give off enough of a ‘sexually open and aware’ vibe that people feel an opening to share. Which on one hand is cool as hell. And on the other hand is a little scary. Most of the time, it’s a one-shot conversation about a particular thing. They go away, happy to have been validated, and I get a smile out of a good conversation. Everyone’s happy.
I’m pleased that more and more people are freely admitting that they’re kinky. It’s not like I’m some political BDSM person who wants us to have a movement like the gay/lesbian communities, because I don’t. But it is a little fun to know that there are more of us out there than we think.
I don’t mean to say that everyone is like that. I do occasionally run into vanilla folks who ‘ick’ at the idea of anything other than soft, cuddly sex. I smile at them, and wish them well (a few of them mistakenly found my blog and got a big surprise! lol) and hope that they remain happy in their choices.
That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it? Being happy in how you choose to live you (sex) life?
Unanswerable
There was a great question posed on one of the forums I read the other day. I’ve been thinking about it off and on for a couple days now, and I thought I’d share it.
- If you could choose only one, which would you prefer for one night: Great sex, then sleeping alone? Or sleeping with someone you care about without sex? –
I’ve been trying to figure out an “a” or ”b” answer to that, and I haven’t gotten there. And I think it’s because each time my mood changes, the answer changes.
In other words, ask me on any given day and get a different answer.
There are nights where I’d like nothing more than to fuck the bejesus out of someone and then just go to sleep. And there are other nights when I’d rather just put on a comfy nightshirt and curl up next to someone who just plain gives a damn about me. I thought maybe it had to do with what kind of day I’d had, but I’m not entirely sure if that’s fully true; even if I’ve had a horrible day, sometimes, fucking someone would be at the top of my list.
I’m not a huge fan of casual sex, or sex-for-sex sake. I want to at least *like the person I’m having inside me – have a friendship with them, have things in common, be able to laugh and enjoy. Without that for me, sex becomes relatively meaningless except for a physical release (which, in my experience, isn’t as good if you don’t give a flying fuck about the person you’re sleeping with). I don’t need love or even infatuation. But I do want some sort of connection for it to be mentally pleasing as well as physically.
I do realize there are people who can enjoy it for the pure physical aspect, and I don’t have anything against them, or against that. It’s just not where I come from.
So, why then, are there nights I’d rather just *fuck than cuddle?
(You’ll note I didn’t say go pick up a stranger to fuck in an alley then go home :p Hot fantasy, reality probably not so much)
I get way too deep into my mind sometimes. I think too much (shocker, I know) and if I’ve had a bad emotional or mental day, sometimes an orgasm or two brings me out of my mind and back into my body. I don’t make any secret to the fact that I have a couple of vibrators and I know how to use them /wink. Sometimes, before I can close my eyes and be assured of actually falling asleep, a quick roll with one will let me come back to the physical side of me and close off my mind. If for some reason I can’t – or don’t feel like – doing that, and I’ve been thinking too hard, it’s hell for me to get to sleep. Turning off my mind at night is hit or miss.
There are other times when I’ve had a good day (more of these than bad for awhile now, always a good thing), that I’d be content to just curl up with someone, feel their heart beat and lazily fall into sleep.
And then there are other times when I feel on top of the world that I could lay in bed and have multiple orgasms and drift happily off to sleep, without it being a ‘need’ thing.
Like I said, it just all depends, and it changes daily/hourly for me.
So I can’t answer the question fully. I hate that. :p The over-achiever in me says there is an answer for everything.
But maybe I’m wrong. This time
- If you could choose only one, which would you prefer for one night: Great sex, then sleeping alone? Or sleeping with someone you care about without sex? –
I’ve been trying to figure out an “a” or ”b” answer to that, and I haven’t gotten there. And I think it’s because each time my mood changes, the answer changes.
In other words, ask me on any given day and get a different answer.
There are nights where I’d like nothing more than to fuck the bejesus out of someone and then just go to sleep. And there are other nights when I’d rather just put on a comfy nightshirt and curl up next to someone who just plain gives a damn about me. I thought maybe it had to do with what kind of day I’d had, but I’m not entirely sure if that’s fully true; even if I’ve had a horrible day, sometimes, fucking someone would be at the top of my list.
I’m not a huge fan of casual sex, or sex-for-sex sake. I want to at least *like the person I’m having inside me – have a friendship with them, have things in common, be able to laugh and enjoy. Without that for me, sex becomes relatively meaningless except for a physical release (which, in my experience, isn’t as good if you don’t give a flying fuck about the person you’re sleeping with). I don’t need love or even infatuation. But I do want some sort of connection for it to be mentally pleasing as well as physically.
I do realize there are people who can enjoy it for the pure physical aspect, and I don’t have anything against them, or against that. It’s just not where I come from.
So, why then, are there nights I’d rather just *fuck than cuddle?
(You’ll note I didn’t say go pick up a stranger to fuck in an alley then go home :p Hot fantasy, reality probably not so much)
I get way too deep into my mind sometimes. I think too much (shocker, I know) and if I’ve had a bad emotional or mental day, sometimes an orgasm or two brings me out of my mind and back into my body. I don’t make any secret to the fact that I have a couple of vibrators and I know how to use them /wink. Sometimes, before I can close my eyes and be assured of actually falling asleep, a quick roll with one will let me come back to the physical side of me and close off my mind. If for some reason I can’t – or don’t feel like – doing that, and I’ve been thinking too hard, it’s hell for me to get to sleep. Turning off my mind at night is hit or miss.
There are other times when I’ve had a good day (more of these than bad for awhile now, always a good thing), that I’d be content to just curl up with someone, feel their heart beat and lazily fall into sleep.
And then there are other times when I feel on top of the world that I could lay in bed and have multiple orgasms and drift happily off to sleep, without it being a ‘need’ thing.
Like I said, it just all depends, and it changes daily/hourly for me.
So I can’t answer the question fully. I hate that. :p The over-achiever in me says there is an answer for everything.
But maybe I’m wrong. This time
Age is just a number
Funny thing.
When I was younger, I typically dated older men. I absolutely adored older men. My first boyfriend was 7 years older than I was.
And now?
The young ones are coming out of the woodwork *grin
I don’t mean teenagers or even early twenties. But for some reason I seem to catch the attention of the 25-35 year old crowd, both in the scant few profiles I have up, and in other online forums (message boards, gaming, etc)
Oh, I know all the stereotypes about how younger men want an older woman to ‘teach them the ropes’ so to speak, and how men in general like a woman who’s comfortable in her sexuality and embraces it, as many women do once they pass 35. Even in a dominant/submissive relationship, it’s been said other places that younger dominants tend to gravitate toward older submissives simply for the ‘kink’ of the age difference.
I dunno about all that. But I do know the attention, provided it doesn’t get stalker-like, is kind of hot. *smirk. I think perhaps the confidence that I’ve gained over the last few years has made the age differences less of an issue, and has opened a lot of paths I’d not considered.
Ten years ago, I never would have considered dating a man in his twenties. C is 2.5 years younger than me, and that was about the limit of how far I was willing to go with that. Now, though – now, I’m not shying away from that attention so much.
That’s not to say that I’d limit myself by choosing older or younger or ‘my age’. But there is something to be said about the exuberance of youth, and the stamina, and… well, you get the idea, right?
I mean hell, if Demi Moore can do it, why can’t the rest of us? *grin
When I was younger, I typically dated older men. I absolutely adored older men. My first boyfriend was 7 years older than I was.
And now?
The young ones are coming out of the woodwork *grin
I don’t mean teenagers or even early twenties. But for some reason I seem to catch the attention of the 25-35 year old crowd, both in the scant few profiles I have up, and in other online forums (message boards, gaming, etc)
Oh, I know all the stereotypes about how younger men want an older woman to ‘teach them the ropes’ so to speak, and how men in general like a woman who’s comfortable in her sexuality and embraces it, as many women do once they pass 35. Even in a dominant/submissive relationship, it’s been said other places that younger dominants tend to gravitate toward older submissives simply for the ‘kink’ of the age difference.
I dunno about all that. But I do know the attention, provided it doesn’t get stalker-like, is kind of hot. *smirk. I think perhaps the confidence that I’ve gained over the last few years has made the age differences less of an issue, and has opened a lot of paths I’d not considered.
Ten years ago, I never would have considered dating a man in his twenties. C is 2.5 years younger than me, and that was about the limit of how far I was willing to go with that. Now, though – now, I’m not shying away from that attention so much.
That’s not to say that I’d limit myself by choosing older or younger or ‘my age’. But there is something to be said about the exuberance of youth, and the stamina, and… well, you get the idea, right?
I mean hell, if Demi Moore can do it, why can’t the rest of us? *grin
Relationship Status, or something
I got to chatting with my friends over the weekend about "why don't you have a boyfriend omg you don't even date wtf"
I'm paraphrasing, of course (sorta)
I started off pointedly NOT defending my decision, and then the longer it went on, the more I found myself coming up for really good reasons why I don't have a local "squeeze".
I like my life.
After spending 5 years letting the Navy tell me what I could do, when I could do it, and how often I could do it, the last three years have been a nice change. If I wake up on Saturday morning and don't feel like getting dressed - guess what - I don't! If I come home from work, work out, take a shower and don't feel like getting re-dressed - guess what? I play/write/watch TV in my robe. If I want to go to the Dragon Art Festival Saturday, I don't have to check schedules, ask anyone if they want to go, make sure I have a car. I just *go.
Oh, I'm sure the beauty of being Miss Independent will wear off at some point (and probably out of the blue when I least expect it), but right now, I have no serious motivation to *look* for a significant other.
Now, having said all that, there is naturally a downside to that. I'm guessing if you've read here at all before this post, you can figure out what that is.
No? Stop playing dumb /grin
(C'mon, you thought I was going to say fucking, didn't you? Admit it. You did.)
Okay, yes, that's part of it. I'm not going to sit here with my halo on and pretend I haven't had any since C and I separated, because I have. And I'm not going to pretend that a few of those *weren't* C, because they were. But what I meant - was simple companionship and affection.
I'm very affectionate. Not like Miss PDA or anything, but privately I'm very much that way. Having a good relationship - actually *liking someone that you just happen to also be fucking - being able to talk about pretty much anything and having their intelligence be at least on par with your own - feeling very comfortable with them - these things are important, and can't be over-looked even from within the walls of Miss Independent.
I've waivered a lot in the last three years about the pros and cons of relationships - all kinds of relationships, not just sexual ones. LDRs, marriage, living together - I've run the gamut between thinking each of these was the devil to wanting each of them in my life. I guess that's normal, but for someone who's been pretty clear about what she wants for most of her life (whether I reached out to take it or not is another story), it's a bit daunting.
Fact of the matter is, I've been 'in love' for the sake of being 'in love' before and it bites. When you grow dependent on another person to make you feel good, you risk losing your ability to do that for yourself. There are better reasons to 'be' with someone than just to 'be' with someone and not be alone. There is no question that it's a nice ego boost to have someone who makes you feel good in your life, just so long as you can do that for yourself as well. It's nice to be wanted and desired. And sometimes, just knowing someone out there feels that for you can give you the boost that you need to get through a rough patch. But growing dependent on that is where the quicksand starts. I know the line (for myself) now. And I'm not crossing it ever again.
Having said all that, yes. It'd be nice to have a nice deep hum in the background of my life that was on the same wavelength as I was - that was comfortable with independence and companionship being able to co-exist in a relationship. Someone who lived down the street, someone who lived 2000 miles away. Because of the way the relationship would be built, it wouldn't make that big of a difference.
You'd think that'd be easy, right?
Not so much.
So, I continue to contemplate, and enjoy where I am right now. The fact that what I want can change on a daily or hourly basis is a bit scary, but I guess that's the risk you take when you step out of the 'doing what you *should do' role and into your own will.
And the fact that there are nights when I really do wish the other side of the bed had a living, breathing body (besides a cat :p) in it - someone I could roll over and snuggle with, or wake up to in the morning and have an intellectual conversation (or a good sound fuck, either way *smirk*) with, remains.
But in my own way. In my own time. And not because I need it.
I want to want it.
I'm paraphrasing, of course (sorta)
I started off pointedly NOT defending my decision, and then the longer it went on, the more I found myself coming up for really good reasons why I don't have a local "squeeze".
I like my life.
After spending 5 years letting the Navy tell me what I could do, when I could do it, and how often I could do it, the last three years have been a nice change. If I wake up on Saturday morning and don't feel like getting dressed - guess what - I don't! If I come home from work, work out, take a shower and don't feel like getting re-dressed - guess what? I play/write/watch TV in my robe. If I want to go to the Dragon Art Festival Saturday, I don't have to check schedules, ask anyone if they want to go, make sure I have a car. I just *go.
Oh, I'm sure the beauty of being Miss Independent will wear off at some point (and probably out of the blue when I least expect it), but right now, I have no serious motivation to *look* for a significant other.
Now, having said all that, there is naturally a downside to that. I'm guessing if you've read here at all before this post, you can figure out what that is.
No? Stop playing dumb /grin
(C'mon, you thought I was going to say fucking, didn't you? Admit it. You did.)
Okay, yes, that's part of it. I'm not going to sit here with my halo on and pretend I haven't had any since C and I separated, because I have. And I'm not going to pretend that a few of those *weren't* C, because they were. But what I meant - was simple companionship and affection.
I'm very affectionate. Not like Miss PDA or anything, but privately I'm very much that way. Having a good relationship - actually *liking someone that you just happen to also be fucking - being able to talk about pretty much anything and having their intelligence be at least on par with your own - feeling very comfortable with them - these things are important, and can't be over-looked even from within the walls of Miss Independent.
I've waivered a lot in the last three years about the pros and cons of relationships - all kinds of relationships, not just sexual ones. LDRs, marriage, living together - I've run the gamut between thinking each of these was the devil to wanting each of them in my life. I guess that's normal, but for someone who's been pretty clear about what she wants for most of her life (whether I reached out to take it or not is another story), it's a bit daunting.
Fact of the matter is, I've been 'in love' for the sake of being 'in love' before and it bites. When you grow dependent on another person to make you feel good, you risk losing your ability to do that for yourself. There are better reasons to 'be' with someone than just to 'be' with someone and not be alone. There is no question that it's a nice ego boost to have someone who makes you feel good in your life, just so long as you can do that for yourself as well. It's nice to be wanted and desired. And sometimes, just knowing someone out there feels that for you can give you the boost that you need to get through a rough patch. But growing dependent on that is where the quicksand starts. I know the line (for myself) now. And I'm not crossing it ever again.
Having said all that, yes. It'd be nice to have a nice deep hum in the background of my life that was on the same wavelength as I was - that was comfortable with independence and companionship being able to co-exist in a relationship. Someone who lived down the street, someone who lived 2000 miles away. Because of the way the relationship would be built, it wouldn't make that big of a difference.
You'd think that'd be easy, right?
Not so much.
So, I continue to contemplate, and enjoy where I am right now. The fact that what I want can change on a daily or hourly basis is a bit scary, but I guess that's the risk you take when you step out of the 'doing what you *should do' role and into your own will.
And the fact that there are nights when I really do wish the other side of the bed had a living, breathing body (besides a cat :p) in it - someone I could roll over and snuggle with, or wake up to in the morning and have an intellectual conversation (or a good sound fuck, either way *smirk*) with, remains.
But in my own way. In my own time. And not because I need it.
I want to want it.
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
It's True!
You know how you hear things sometimes and you just roll your eyes and go – yea, right? Stuff like – “Vegetables are good for you” and “Don’t run with scissors” and “You have to love yourself first before anyone will love you”?
Some of those damn things are true, you know. No, I’m not kidding.
The one I’m talking about now though is best summed up this way:
You’re only as sexy on the outside as you feel on the inside. Confidence in yourself *is sexy.
If you’re curious, I had a fantastic time in Philly. I spent 4 days with some of my favorite people on this planet, and soaked up as much love and affection and laughter as I could cram into my waking hours.
Not only that, but I got winked at, called ‘sexy’ and “loved” on by more people in those four days than I think I ever have in my life.
That, my friends, is what confidence will do for you.
Despite the fact that I’ve fucked up my knee, and am having to give it a break this week from the torture device…err, exercise bike… the exercise and the extra attention to detail about how and what I was eating paid off for me. I lost more weight in 3 weeks than I have in the last three months. No, it wasn’t a huge amount, but the freaking scale *did move, so I was a happy girl when I flew out of her on Friday, and I’m still happy about it today.
The fact is, I feel better. When I feel better, I look better. And when I feel great, I’m sexy as hell. (Arrogance? No. Confidence, yes!)
I’m not nearly done, but I’m getting closer all the time. And when I get there, I’ll know it.
How?
I’ll be goddamn irresistible /wink
Some of those damn things are true, you know. No, I’m not kidding.
The one I’m talking about now though is best summed up this way:
You’re only as sexy on the outside as you feel on the inside. Confidence in yourself *is sexy.
If you’re curious, I had a fantastic time in Philly. I spent 4 days with some of my favorite people on this planet, and soaked up as much love and affection and laughter as I could cram into my waking hours.
Not only that, but I got winked at, called ‘sexy’ and “loved” on by more people in those four days than I think I ever have in my life.
That, my friends, is what confidence will do for you.
Despite the fact that I’ve fucked up my knee, and am having to give it a break this week from the torture device…err, exercise bike… the exercise and the extra attention to detail about how and what I was eating paid off for me. I lost more weight in 3 weeks than I have in the last three months. No, it wasn’t a huge amount, but the freaking scale *did move, so I was a happy girl when I flew out of her on Friday, and I’m still happy about it today.
The fact is, I feel better. When I feel better, I look better. And when I feel great, I’m sexy as hell. (Arrogance? No. Confidence, yes!)
I’m not nearly done, but I’m getting closer all the time. And when I get there, I’ll know it.
How?
I’ll be goddamn irresistible /wink
Thursday, May 24, 2007
The Fact is.....
I wrote my last blog post at work today. I had intended to post it, and leave it at that, so that I could finish getting ready to go and leave things on a positive note at home, and go enjoy myself.
Thing is, it's not entirely accurate. The fact is, I'm fucking tired.
Now, some of that exhaustion can well be attributed to the fact that for the last 14 days, I have only missed ONE Day of cardio on the bike, and the last several days, my mileage per session has been up over 11 miles a day (my left knee hates me). All good. I don't mind that kind of tired. It means I'm doing something that's good for my physical and mental health. But that ain't all there is to it, unfortunately.
Mother's Day really nailed it for me I think.
I am fucking tired of always being the one who does the right thing. I'm tired of being the only grand-daughter (out of two) who goes to visit her grandmother in the nursing home. I'm tired of being the only daughter (out of two) who even gets a CARD for my mother. I'm tired of being the one who is always there, always patient, always doing the responsible and adult thing.
No, I don't mind doing those things. I do mind being the ONLY one who does those things. (And no, I can't speak to my sister about it. Been there, done that - many decades of doing it, and she lives in her own world and reality, where everything is her and everyone else doesn't exist.)
It applies to other areas of my life, too. Just re-arrange the words a bit, and apply to friends and ex-husbands and co-workers. I'm tired of always being the one to break the ice, to apologize where it's needed, to offer help, to stand up, to offer someone else an easy way out to make them comfortable. All of the traits and behaviors that made me such a good submissive seem to be dragging my vanilla life down to it's most exhausted point.
Again, not always - not with all people, but I can clearly say that the more than half of my relationships, whatever they may be, end up like this eventually.
I'm emotionally exhausted sometimes. Not all the time, but sometimes. And there isn't anyone to blame but me because I'm the one who has control over it. Instead of simply backing off when my energy gets depleted, I just keep on keepin' on, because it's all I seem to know how to do. It's not like I don't know there's a better way, but it's just difficult for me to get there. I’ve written over the last several weeks about being honest with myself, and being authentic. This is what I mean. This is a behavior that has got to change in me, now.
There was a time in my life (okay, maybe several times) when this behavior made sense to me. Because I didn't feel like I deserved reciprocation in all things. My self-esteem was so far down that I did what I did because it was all I could do.
But I fucking know better now. And I'm still doing it.
The good thing is, this weekend will feed me plenty. I have great friends coming to Philly for this party and people I adore and trust and who sincerely care about my well being. I'm going to come home full.
Let's see if I can't manage to stay that way for a while.
Thing is, it's not entirely accurate. The fact is, I'm fucking tired.
Now, some of that exhaustion can well be attributed to the fact that for the last 14 days, I have only missed ONE Day of cardio on the bike, and the last several days, my mileage per session has been up over 11 miles a day (my left knee hates me). All good. I don't mind that kind of tired. It means I'm doing something that's good for my physical and mental health. But that ain't all there is to it, unfortunately.
Mother's Day really nailed it for me I think.
I am fucking tired of always being the one who does the right thing. I'm tired of being the only grand-daughter (out of two) who goes to visit her grandmother in the nursing home. I'm tired of being the only daughter (out of two) who even gets a CARD for my mother. I'm tired of being the one who is always there, always patient, always doing the responsible and adult thing.
No, I don't mind doing those things. I do mind being the ONLY one who does those things. (And no, I can't speak to my sister about it. Been there, done that - many decades of doing it, and she lives in her own world and reality, where everything is her and everyone else doesn't exist.)
It applies to other areas of my life, too. Just re-arrange the words a bit, and apply to friends and ex-husbands and co-workers. I'm tired of always being the one to break the ice, to apologize where it's needed, to offer help, to stand up, to offer someone else an easy way out to make them comfortable. All of the traits and behaviors that made me such a good submissive seem to be dragging my vanilla life down to it's most exhausted point.
Again, not always - not with all people, but I can clearly say that the more than half of my relationships, whatever they may be, end up like this eventually.
I'm emotionally exhausted sometimes. Not all the time, but sometimes. And there isn't anyone to blame but me because I'm the one who has control over it. Instead of simply backing off when my energy gets depleted, I just keep on keepin' on, because it's all I seem to know how to do. It's not like I don't know there's a better way, but it's just difficult for me to get there. I’ve written over the last several weeks about being honest with myself, and being authentic. This is what I mean. This is a behavior that has got to change in me, now.
There was a time in my life (okay, maybe several times) when this behavior made sense to me. Because I didn't feel like I deserved reciprocation in all things. My self-esteem was so far down that I did what I did because it was all I could do.
But I fucking know better now. And I'm still doing it.
The good thing is, this weekend will feed me plenty. I have great friends coming to Philly for this party and people I adore and trust and who sincerely care about my well being. I'm going to come home full.
Let's see if I can't manage to stay that way for a while.
Before I go....
I figured I better put up something - y'all would think I fell into a pothole or something :p
I've been busy as hell this week getting ready for my trip out to Philly. Throwing a baby shower long distance (well, prepping for said baby shower, I'll be there for the actual shower) isn't as easy as you'd think. But I'm all set now, and it's a good thing, I fly out at 11am tomorrow.
My new laptop arrived and is all set up but I won't be taking it with me this weekend, as I think I'll be plenty busy doing other things :) I'm looking forward to 4 days away where all I have to worry about is getting there, having fun and coming home :)
I've been doing some character creation on my new story idea. I actually had an epiphany last night -- I struggle when it comes to actually starting a story, but that's because as a type-a, I like order. Rather than do that, I'm going to start with the first thing that popped into my head with this story, a sex scene, and build it from there, forward and backward. I'm thinking that's going to make it much smoother. We'll see.
Have a great holiday weekend, and I'll catch up next week!
I've been busy as hell this week getting ready for my trip out to Philly. Throwing a baby shower long distance (well, prepping for said baby shower, I'll be there for the actual shower) isn't as easy as you'd think. But I'm all set now, and it's a good thing, I fly out at 11am tomorrow.
My new laptop arrived and is all set up but I won't be taking it with me this weekend, as I think I'll be plenty busy doing other things :) I'm looking forward to 4 days away where all I have to worry about is getting there, having fun and coming home :)
I've been doing some character creation on my new story idea. I actually had an epiphany last night -- I struggle when it comes to actually starting a story, but that's because as a type-a, I like order. Rather than do that, I'm going to start with the first thing that popped into my head with this story, a sex scene, and build it from there, forward and backward. I'm thinking that's going to make it much smoother. We'll see.
Have a great holiday weekend, and I'll catch up next week!
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Authentic
Over the last couple of years, being ‘authentic’ has been increasingly important to me. I was raised in a world where you got married and had kids after college because it was the right thing to do, not because you wanted to. I did the get married part, the kids part never happened for various reasons (miscarriages primarily), and to people outside of my family, I probably look like I’ve lead a pretty independent life, away from rules and ‘the way things are supposed to be’.
That’s not entirely true. I always tried to do what I was ‘supposed to do’, but because of who I am, it just never happened the way ‘it was supposed to’. Figuring that out when C and I separated, I’ve had to spend the last three trying to figure out who I am, opposed to who I’m supposed to be. Doing that takes a great deal of self-honesty, which is something no one is born good at. It also takes a lot of behaving honestly and speaking honestly with other people. I have gotten much better at that, primarily because I’ve given up the whole ‘supposed to be’ shit.
I am who I am supposed to be. Me.
Around other people in the last year or so, since I started meeting more new people that I got to know on various online games around the country, I’ve put the ‘behaving honestly, speaking honestly’ into practice. When I went to the East Coast last month, I was me. When I went to Philly last year (twice) and as I’m preparing to go again next weekend, I’m me when I’m there. I’m not trying to impress anyone. I’m not trying to ‘snare’ a boyfriend because society frowns on me not having one. I’m not trying to be the center of anyone’s attention. I’m just – me. People can take me or leave me.
Thing is, the better I have become at being authentic, the better the friendships I have made are. I know that’s common sense. But for a girl who grew up fat, and who felt she had to be someone else in order to get people to like her, and overlook the fat thing, it’s not a concept that was readily available to my fingertips. I had to learn how to do it.
As my comfort level with who I am really am has increased, other things in my life have come into question. One of those things is my submission.
I am sexually submissive. That’s never been in question, and has been a part of me since the first time I laid eyes on a cock. I still feel that very strongly. Along with being sexually submissive, though, I’m also very sexually adventurous. Which means I’m not always submissive. And that’s all right. Variety is good *wink
I don’t know that I’ve ever had a full-time dominant/submissive relationship with a dominant that was emotionally healthy, though. And I know that my submission outside the bedroom has not always come from a healthy place, such as where I am now. Having no experience with that kind of relationship, I’m just not sure right now where I stand on it. I have to question it. And I am. I’m just not entirely sure 24/7 would ever work for me again.
That’s all right, though. It’s good to question things. It’s good to say out loud what you’re thinking and to ask and answer questions despite the risk of perhaps not getting what you want. It’s better to know, than just to ‘think’. I would rather be turned away from someone for being me, than for being someone I was pretending to be.
I’ve identified as a submissive for so many years that’s it’s hard to think of perhaps having to change that.
Or is it?
How about if I just identify as a kinky little bitch instead? *grin
That’s not entirely true. I always tried to do what I was ‘supposed to do’, but because of who I am, it just never happened the way ‘it was supposed to’. Figuring that out when C and I separated, I’ve had to spend the last three trying to figure out who I am, opposed to who I’m supposed to be. Doing that takes a great deal of self-honesty, which is something no one is born good at. It also takes a lot of behaving honestly and speaking honestly with other people. I have gotten much better at that, primarily because I’ve given up the whole ‘supposed to be’ shit.
I am who I am supposed to be. Me.
Around other people in the last year or so, since I started meeting more new people that I got to know on various online games around the country, I’ve put the ‘behaving honestly, speaking honestly’ into practice. When I went to the East Coast last month, I was me. When I went to Philly last year (twice) and as I’m preparing to go again next weekend, I’m me when I’m there. I’m not trying to impress anyone. I’m not trying to ‘snare’ a boyfriend because society frowns on me not having one. I’m not trying to be the center of anyone’s attention. I’m just – me. People can take me or leave me.
Thing is, the better I have become at being authentic, the better the friendships I have made are. I know that’s common sense. But for a girl who grew up fat, and who felt she had to be someone else in order to get people to like her, and overlook the fat thing, it’s not a concept that was readily available to my fingertips. I had to learn how to do it.
As my comfort level with who I am really am has increased, other things in my life have come into question. One of those things is my submission.
I am sexually submissive. That’s never been in question, and has been a part of me since the first time I laid eyes on a cock. I still feel that very strongly. Along with being sexually submissive, though, I’m also very sexually adventurous. Which means I’m not always submissive. And that’s all right. Variety is good *wink
I don’t know that I’ve ever had a full-time dominant/submissive relationship with a dominant that was emotionally healthy, though. And I know that my submission outside the bedroom has not always come from a healthy place, such as where I am now. Having no experience with that kind of relationship, I’m just not sure right now where I stand on it. I have to question it. And I am. I’m just not entirely sure 24/7 would ever work for me again.
That’s all right, though. It’s good to question things. It’s good to say out loud what you’re thinking and to ask and answer questions despite the risk of perhaps not getting what you want. It’s better to know, than just to ‘think’. I would rather be turned away from someone for being me, than for being someone I was pretending to be.
I’ve identified as a submissive for so many years that’s it’s hard to think of perhaps having to change that.
Or is it?
How about if I just identify as a kinky little bitch instead? *grin
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
What's Underneath
Not all that long ago, I opened up a storage tub that contained about 8 years worth of lingerie that I’ve been carting around with me from California, to Oregon, to Connecticut, to Virginia, to here. I hadn’t opened it before that before I was afraid of it. I just knew that some of the gorgeous stuff I had in there was not going to fit, and that depressed me.
Turns out, by the time I did open it, most of it was too big, and went in the give-away pile (does goodwill take lingerie? Ha ha). What remained were a few key pieces, a leather mini-dress that I’ve yet to try on (no excuse, I just haven’t, but it’s very close to my size now), and about 20 thongs.
*shrug What can I say? C loved thongs. M preferred me to wear nothing, but when C and I got back together, he made his preference very clear, and even ventured into Fredericks in Las Vegas with me a few times to pick some out.
They aren’t my preference. That’s for sure. I have all 20 or so of them tucked away in the bottom drawer of my dresser, and a couple that I actually have worn recently for one reason or another.
There are so many choices these days. I don’t see any reason to be saddled (ha!) with something that I’m not comfortable wearing. They’re just not comfortable, period. Special occasion? Sure. Under lingerie? You bet! But every day? I’ll take a pass on that.
Recently, I started buying tangas
, and what they call “cheeky shorts”.
These are comfortable enough to wear to work, and are still sexy enough to make me feel good about wearing them.
See, I told C, about a year ago – “Life is too short for cheap ugly underwear”, and I meant it. I have a drawer full of very sexy (yet practical) bras from Victoria’s Secret and I see no reason not to have panties that match or compliment them – and even some that neither match nor compliment, but that I just found too cute to pass up. Like the blue lace ones with the ribbon-corset lacing at the top of the back. Or the red and white striped ones with the lace around them that match – hell, most of my wardrobe.
As for the rest of the lingerie, except a few pairs of thigh-highs that actually did fit, most of it is tucked away in the give-away bag, or my bottom drawer. I pretty much decided that I deserved to have all new lingerie, and have been working on rebuilding that portion of my wardrobe, slowly.
I have time /wink
Turns out, by the time I did open it, most of it was too big, and went in the give-away pile (does goodwill take lingerie? Ha ha). What remained were a few key pieces, a leather mini-dress that I’ve yet to try on (no excuse, I just haven’t, but it’s very close to my size now), and about 20 thongs.
*shrug What can I say? C loved thongs. M preferred me to wear nothing, but when C and I got back together, he made his preference very clear, and even ventured into Fredericks in Las Vegas with me a few times to pick some out.
They aren’t my preference. That’s for sure. I have all 20 or so of them tucked away in the bottom drawer of my dresser, and a couple that I actually have worn recently for one reason or another.
There are so many choices these days. I don’t see any reason to be saddled (ha!) with something that I’m not comfortable wearing. They’re just not comfortable, period. Special occasion? Sure. Under lingerie? You bet! But every day? I’ll take a pass on that.
Recently, I started buying tangas
, and what they call “cheeky shorts”.
These are comfortable enough to wear to work, and are still sexy enough to make me feel good about wearing them.
See, I told C, about a year ago – “Life is too short for cheap ugly underwear”, and I meant it. I have a drawer full of very sexy (yet practical) bras from Victoria’s Secret and I see no reason not to have panties that match or compliment them – and even some that neither match nor compliment, but that I just found too cute to pass up. Like the blue lace ones with the ribbon-corset lacing at the top of the back. Or the red and white striped ones with the lace around them that match – hell, most of my wardrobe.
As for the rest of the lingerie, except a few pairs of thigh-highs that actually did fit, most of it is tucked away in the give-away bag, or my bottom drawer. I pretty much decided that I deserved to have all new lingerie, and have been working on rebuilding that portion of my wardrobe, slowly.
I have time /wink
The Return of the Will
I said recently that I have about 16 pounds left to go to my doctor’s goal for me. Up until this week, I was very satisfied with what he’d set, but now I’m not so sure.
I don’t know why that changed. I’m trying not to analyze it too much. But I know that 16 pounds aren’t probably going to be enough to make me as satisfied as I could be.
To that end, I started working my ass off (literally) these past weeks. In addition to working up to 45 minutes every week night on the bike (I’m at 34 minutes currently and had my first ten mile ride tonight *smile), I bought myself a nifty little set of wrist weights , a jump rope and one of those little crappy mini-stepper things. I do belong to a local gym (I went once last week) but for whatever reason, I’m just happier working on things at home.
It aggravates me that these last pounds won’t seem to come off. I also started calcing my calories this week, to see if maybe I was eating more or less than I thought I was – and I am, less that is. And I know I’m not getting enough protein. So I’m working on doing both of those things, too.
It’s amazing how much better I feel when I take that whole issue in hand instead of letting everything else be more important than that.
That said, my will to write seems to be back. Thankfully.
I don’t know why that changed. I’m trying not to analyze it too much. But I know that 16 pounds aren’t probably going to be enough to make me as satisfied as I could be.
To that end, I started working my ass off (literally) these past weeks. In addition to working up to 45 minutes every week night on the bike (I’m at 34 minutes currently and had my first ten mile ride tonight *smile), I bought myself a nifty little set of wrist weights , a jump rope and one of those little crappy mini-stepper things. I do belong to a local gym (I went once last week) but for whatever reason, I’m just happier working on things at home.
It aggravates me that these last pounds won’t seem to come off. I also started calcing my calories this week, to see if maybe I was eating more or less than I thought I was – and I am, less that is. And I know I’m not getting enough protein. So I’m working on doing both of those things, too.
It’s amazing how much better I feel when I take that whole issue in hand instead of letting everything else be more important than that.
That said, my will to write seems to be back. Thankfully.
Saturday, May 12, 2007
Patience (again, I'm sure)
I think I’ve written about patience before. I’m too impetuous to go look :p
For many things in life, I’m very patient. My grandfather always said that I should be a nurse or a teacher, because I had the patience to deal with the public at large without getting irritated. I was told most of my life that I would make an excellent mother because of my patience (I did make an excellent step-mother, and still do :p).
I do believe there are things worth waiting for. And I do believe that sometimes, going slowly into something you are unsure about is the safest and sanest bet.
But there are some things in life where I have little to no patience. And it’s in those things that I find that …
I want what I want when I want it.
And yes, sex is one of those times.
I love teasing someone. I am not so good on the other end of that touch. I can do it. I have a stubborn streak a mile wide and I can force myself to do lie there and take it, but inside, I’m screaming. This is not to say I don’t enjoy that /smirk but it is to say that it drives me absolutely crazy.
“Anything worth having is worth waiting for.”
“The longer you wait, the better it is.”
Yea yea yea, I get it.
Doesn’t mean I have to like it, right? Even though I might. A little.
Perhaps it’s my lack of patience, in those times, where I’m dying to cum or whimpering loudly in anticipation of being fucked silly that not getting exactly
What I want when I want it
is exactly what I need.
We seldom want and need the same things. Our body requires fuel. We want ice cream. We need a dependable car, but what we want is a shiny piece of crap. In those moments where we’re internally debating between what we think we should have, and what our lives truly call for that we learn the most about ourselves.
(Yes, it is possible to learn a lot about yourself while you’re fucking. Sorry if that shatters any illusions /wink)
We typically always know what we desire. That’s not always what’s good for us, though. And trying to strike a balance between want and need is often perilous and can leave us cold and frustrated.
I think truly, sometimes, it’s better that I don’t get
What I want when I want it.
So that when I do, the next time, I’ll appreciate it more.
So what does all that philosophizing have to do with getting fucked? Sometimes, in not winning, we really do win. In not giving in, we give ourselves a gift. And other times, what we really want – at the moment we want it – is exactly what we need. Strength of mind is good and all, don’t get me wrong. Patience is a virtue. But giving in to ourselves occasionally is a virtue too. Man does not live by bread alone.
It’s not all about sex. Sometimes what I want is answers. Sometimes, I want to be done with this weight-loss program. Sometimes, I just want a kind word right fucking NOW and am frustrated and impatient when I can’t get it.
But sometimes, what man (or woman) needs is a good sound fucking. There is something to be said for instant gratification. If there weren’t, we’d all have the patience of a saint.
I dunno about you, but I’m not up for sainthood. I don't look my best in white. /wink
For many things in life, I’m very patient. My grandfather always said that I should be a nurse or a teacher, because I had the patience to deal with the public at large without getting irritated. I was told most of my life that I would make an excellent mother because of my patience (I did make an excellent step-mother, and still do :p).
I do believe there are things worth waiting for. And I do believe that sometimes, going slowly into something you are unsure about is the safest and sanest bet.
But there are some things in life where I have little to no patience. And it’s in those things that I find that …
I want what I want when I want it.
And yes, sex is one of those times.
I love teasing someone. I am not so good on the other end of that touch. I can do it. I have a stubborn streak a mile wide and I can force myself to do lie there and take it, but inside, I’m screaming. This is not to say I don’t enjoy that /smirk but it is to say that it drives me absolutely crazy.
“Anything worth having is worth waiting for.”
“The longer you wait, the better it is.”
Yea yea yea, I get it.
Doesn’t mean I have to like it, right? Even though I might. A little.
Perhaps it’s my lack of patience, in those times, where I’m dying to cum or whimpering loudly in anticipation of being fucked silly that not getting exactly
What I want when I want it
is exactly what I need.
We seldom want and need the same things. Our body requires fuel. We want ice cream. We need a dependable car, but what we want is a shiny piece of crap. In those moments where we’re internally debating between what we think we should have, and what our lives truly call for that we learn the most about ourselves.
(Yes, it is possible to learn a lot about yourself while you’re fucking. Sorry if that shatters any illusions /wink)
We typically always know what we desire. That’s not always what’s good for us, though. And trying to strike a balance between want and need is often perilous and can leave us cold and frustrated.
I think truly, sometimes, it’s better that I don’t get
What I want when I want it.
So that when I do, the next time, I’ll appreciate it more.
So what does all that philosophizing have to do with getting fucked? Sometimes, in not winning, we really do win. In not giving in, we give ourselves a gift. And other times, what we really want – at the moment we want it – is exactly what we need. Strength of mind is good and all, don’t get me wrong. Patience is a virtue. But giving in to ourselves occasionally is a virtue too. Man does not live by bread alone.
It’s not all about sex. Sometimes what I want is answers. Sometimes, I want to be done with this weight-loss program. Sometimes, I just want a kind word right fucking NOW and am frustrated and impatient when I can’t get it.
But sometimes, what man (or woman) needs is a good sound fucking. There is something to be said for instant gratification. If there weren’t, we’d all have the patience of a saint.
I dunno about you, but I’m not up for sainthood. I don't look my best in white. /wink
The Way I'm Wired
I’ve been asked this often enough, so I guess I’ll answer it.
I have had wonderful sexual experiences with women in the past (and some not so wonderful, goes with the territory), and I’m not at all adverse having more in the future, but it’s not something that I actually seek out. I don’t call myself bisexual because I can’t ever see myself having a long-term relationship with a woman. Sex and friendship, yes. But probably never anything more than that. I find women that I am very sexually attracted to, but I can’t see anything going beyond the friendship stage with some sweaty sheet time mixed in.
When I lived in California, I had a friend; we’ll call her M. M was living with a man; I was living with a man. We were all friends and spent a lot of time together. M and I were very affectionate with each other, and did have a couple of forays into the sexual arena (with or without the men). To this day, she’s one of my closest friends, and I look on our time together fondly. But it was what it was – sex and close friendship, tied up in … rope *grin
So, maybe I *am bisexual but not biamorous? Is that even a word?
Call me crazy, but I like men. I like the way they smell and the way they feel. Even when they drive me completely insane, men are where it’s at for me as far as anything longer than a hot, sweaty encounter or weekend is concerned.
I used to think that I’d like to be one of those people who see past gender, to the soul of the person. To be able to have a relationship with a man – or a woman – and have them be the same thing. But I don’t think that’s true anymore. I used to think my inability to do that was wrapped up in my upbringing (good catholic girl *grin) but I don’t think that’s true either. I think I’m just wired to enjoy sex with either gender, but when it comes down to it, I want to wake up next to a guy with a scratchy chin and a hairy chest.
I have had wonderful sexual experiences with women in the past (and some not so wonderful, goes with the territory), and I’m not at all adverse having more in the future, but it’s not something that I actually seek out. I don’t call myself bisexual because I can’t ever see myself having a long-term relationship with a woman. Sex and friendship, yes. But probably never anything more than that. I find women that I am very sexually attracted to, but I can’t see anything going beyond the friendship stage with some sweaty sheet time mixed in.
When I lived in California, I had a friend; we’ll call her M. M was living with a man; I was living with a man. We were all friends and spent a lot of time together. M and I were very affectionate with each other, and did have a couple of forays into the sexual arena (with or without the men). To this day, she’s one of my closest friends, and I look on our time together fondly. But it was what it was – sex and close friendship, tied up in … rope *grin
So, maybe I *am bisexual but not biamorous? Is that even a word?
Call me crazy, but I like men. I like the way they smell and the way they feel. Even when they drive me completely insane, men are where it’s at for me as far as anything longer than a hot, sweaty encounter or weekend is concerned.
I used to think that I’d like to be one of those people who see past gender, to the soul of the person. To be able to have a relationship with a man – or a woman – and have them be the same thing. But I don’t think that’s true anymore. I used to think my inability to do that was wrapped up in my upbringing (good catholic girl *grin) but I don’t think that’s true either. I think I’m just wired to enjoy sex with either gender, but when it comes down to it, I want to wake up next to a guy with a scratchy chin and a hairy chest.
Friday, May 11, 2007
Take a Hint
Several years ago, a man named Dr John Gray wrote a book that most people started taking as a bible for relationships. "Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus" took off like a shot and made Dr Gray a very wealthy man.
This is not to say that his book doesn't have merit; it does. I read it shortly after it came out (in my never-ending attempt to understand just exactly WTF men are thinking sometimes....) and I did enjoy it, and gain some insight from it.
However, as with all other "self-help" books, just reading it isn’t enough. You have to actually start to use the information in your life for it to mean anything.
I have, to a certain extent. But there are just some things that are ingrained in the psyche of most women. Things that it takes a great deal of dedication and energy to overcome. I speak of one thing in particular here - one thing that I have not yet "learned" well enough to put into consistent practice, but a thing that rears it's ugly head for me quite often.
I've expounded on the beauty of subtly many times in this blog. And I would never take a word of that back; each and every word of it is true. But! Women and men I think process subtly differently. Hence, the problem herein:
Men do NOT take hints.
I know this. I'm a pretty smart woman and I've been around the block a time or two. And yet, even knowing it, I continue to do it; I drop a hint, and am disappointed when it's not picked up on. I was looking on the web earlier for a suitable quote to go with this post, and instead I found very wise words from a message board:
---------------------------------------------------------------
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Shit, is THAT it? Are y'all even more afraid of being wrong that we are? *smirk*
Anyway...
What defines a "good girl" is different today than it was 50 years ago. Hell, it's different than it was 5 years ago. But our mothers raised us to be good girls. (Those of us who were lucky enough to have those kinds of mothers, that is). They raised us to be strong but soft; independent but not arrogant. They raised us to believe that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, and that if you want something, there is always a better way to get it than being demanding. And that there were prettier ways to get your way than being completely blunt.
As much as I love my mother, they're all wrong on that last count. At least, in the year 2007.
Most of the time, you have to be blunt. You have to be as brutally honest and as candid as you can possibly be if you expect any sort of result at all. Doing so comes with risk. But not doing so comes with the almost certainty that you've going to be left waiting -- for action, for answers, for affection, for attrition. If you don't ask or tell, apparently, you simply do not *get. Yes, when you ask directly you take a chance of not getting the answer/affection/action you're asking for. But chances are you aren't going to get it by dropping little hints either.
I'm better at this than I used to be. But I'm still not good at it. Perhaps my frustration will make me good at it. Only time will tell I suppose. It’s just one of those things you have to put into practice.
I can think of a lot better things I’d rather be practicing *grin. But I guess this will have to do for now.
Before I end this, I wanted to quote this part of the message again:
Is it? Is being wrong worse than frustrating someone who’s trying to communicate with you? Maybe I just need some examples. I see a google search in my future~
This is not to say that his book doesn't have merit; it does. I read it shortly after it came out (in my never-ending attempt to understand just exactly WTF men are thinking sometimes....) and I did enjoy it, and gain some insight from it.
However, as with all other "self-help" books, just reading it isn’t enough. You have to actually start to use the information in your life for it to mean anything.
I have, to a certain extent. But there are just some things that are ingrained in the psyche of most women. Things that it takes a great deal of dedication and energy to overcome. I speak of one thing in particular here - one thing that I have not yet "learned" well enough to put into consistent practice, but a thing that rears it's ugly head for me quite often.
I've expounded on the beauty of subtly many times in this blog. And I would never take a word of that back; each and every word of it is true. But! Women and men I think process subtly differently. Hence, the problem herein:
Men do NOT take hints.
I know this. I'm a pretty smart woman and I've been around the block a time or two. And yet, even knowing it, I continue to do it; I drop a hint, and am disappointed when it's not picked up on. I was looking on the web earlier for a suitable quote to go with this post, and instead I found very wise words from a message board:
---------------------------------------------------------------
Originally posted by xxx:
If you drop me a hint about something, it will never happen. Men don't do hints. If we spot 'em, we ignore 'em.
*phew* happy to know I'm not the only one who ignores the hints he does receive.
It's not because I want to be ignorant -- I just don't want to run the risk of misinterpretation, which is always inevitably far worse than not noticing at all.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Shit, is THAT it? Are y'all even more afraid of being wrong that we are? *smirk*
Anyway...
What defines a "good girl" is different today than it was 50 years ago. Hell, it's different than it was 5 years ago. But our mothers raised us to be good girls. (Those of us who were lucky enough to have those kinds of mothers, that is). They raised us to be strong but soft; independent but not arrogant. They raised us to believe that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar, and that if you want something, there is always a better way to get it than being demanding. And that there were prettier ways to get your way than being completely blunt.
As much as I love my mother, they're all wrong on that last count. At least, in the year 2007.
Most of the time, you have to be blunt. You have to be as brutally honest and as candid as you can possibly be if you expect any sort of result at all. Doing so comes with risk. But not doing so comes with the almost certainty that you've going to be left waiting -- for action, for answers, for affection, for attrition. If you don't ask or tell, apparently, you simply do not *get. Yes, when you ask directly you take a chance of not getting the answer/affection/action you're asking for. But chances are you aren't going to get it by dropping little hints either.
I'm better at this than I used to be. But I'm still not good at it. Perhaps my frustration will make me good at it. Only time will tell I suppose. It’s just one of those things you have to put into practice.
I can think of a lot better things I’d rather be practicing *grin. But I guess this will have to do for now.
Before I end this, I wanted to quote this part of the message again:
I just don't want to run the risk of misinterpretation, which is always inevitably far worse than not noticing at all.and ask….
Is it? Is being wrong worse than frustrating someone who’s trying to communicate with you? Maybe I just need some examples. I see a google search in my future~
Various
Random things ....
I am now 16 pounds from my goal. I think I mentioned earlier this week that I kicked my exercise in the ass the last few weeks, and it seems to be paying off finally. They aren't lying when they say you need diet AND exercise for the last 20 pounds. I love my bike, but I may start looking for a dance class or something similar to occupy another couple days a week. Maybe a bit of strength training as well.
I got a hair cut this week. Nothing drastic. Maybe a half-inch off the length. I was willing to sacrifice that for some layers, because frankly, layers means I can get a little sloppier than having to straighten it every time I wash it :p The woman who cuts my hair is awesome. She knows I'm paranoid about losing length so she does her best to give me what I want without taking off too much. I've said it before and I'll say it again, my hair is my one true vanity.
I haven't worked much on my story idea, but as I was falling asleep last night, another layer of it came to me. I'm not one of those people that keeps a notebook by the bed, but I really should. Typically I have awesome ideas as I'm falling asleep - when my mind is completely open - and it's hit or miss if I lose them by morning.
I'm headed for Philadelphia Memorial Day Weekend to visit with some friends and throw a baby shower for one of them. I'm really looking forward to this trip. I have great friends. I wish I got to see them more often. I got a mileage card for Midwest Express (who I usually fly to Philly/East Coast) and my dad transferred their airline vouchers from their AZ trip from Midwest to me to use, so I'll have 2 cheap flights out there this summer later on - yay! I also have enough miles on US Airways to get a free flight anywhere in the country. Sweet!
That's all the tidbits. More to write. Work now, write later~
I am now 16 pounds from my goal. I think I mentioned earlier this week that I kicked my exercise in the ass the last few weeks, and it seems to be paying off finally. They aren't lying when they say you need diet AND exercise for the last 20 pounds. I love my bike, but I may start looking for a dance class or something similar to occupy another couple days a week. Maybe a bit of strength training as well.
I got a hair cut this week. Nothing drastic. Maybe a half-inch off the length. I was willing to sacrifice that for some layers, because frankly, layers means I can get a little sloppier than having to straighten it every time I wash it :p The woman who cuts my hair is awesome. She knows I'm paranoid about losing length so she does her best to give me what I want without taking off too much. I've said it before and I'll say it again, my hair is my one true vanity.
I haven't worked much on my story idea, but as I was falling asleep last night, another layer of it came to me. I'm not one of those people that keeps a notebook by the bed, but I really should. Typically I have awesome ideas as I'm falling asleep - when my mind is completely open - and it's hit or miss if I lose them by morning.
I'm headed for Philadelphia Memorial Day Weekend to visit with some friends and throw a baby shower for one of them. I'm really looking forward to this trip. I have great friends. I wish I got to see them more often. I got a mileage card for Midwest Express (who I usually fly to Philly/East Coast) and my dad transferred their airline vouchers from their AZ trip from Midwest to me to use, so I'll have 2 cheap flights out there this summer later on - yay! I also have enough miles on US Airways to get a free flight anywhere in the country. Sweet!
That's all the tidbits. More to write. Work now, write later~
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