I take that back

Not the fear thing.

But the fact that sometimes I think I need to be chemically altered.

Fear

"People who live in fear need to be chemically altered." -- Californication, Season 2.

I'd like to say this is why I don't drink very often.

But I don't think that's the whole story

Out of Bounds

Californication, Season 2.  One of the sex scenes in Episode 6 (I think).  The weird blonde chick under David Duchovny says

Make me your bitch.

I wrote that down in my little notebook I keep here by my chair for just such an occasion.

I mean, what is it about that sort of stuff that just makes my breath stick in my throat? The scene was actually incredibly annoying but that phrase just makes me close my eyes and say "yea, do it."

I liken it to being cum on; to crawling across the floor; to anal sex even.

It's taboo.  It's out of the bounds of normal.  It's dirty.  It's wrong.  It's...it's....

It's fucking hot, that's what it is.

If you ask any 100 people about this picture here, I'm guessing 60% would say outright that it was degrading to the woman. 30% would secretly tell you in a whisper that it was an intriguing photo.  And the other 10%  would ask for a copy to masturbate to.

I'm a ten percenter.

It took me a long time to get out of the 30 percenters, but I have in the last ten years, accepted the fact that I like it dirty. *grin

Oh, sex doesn't always have to be a big taboo fuckfest, but I cannot deny that it's a whole different experience when I get to be a very very bad girl.

Learn something new every day

I've said before that when I can't find anything else to watch on TV, I've taken to watching reality TV...something I used to dislike intensely.

Bravo is one of my go-to channels for my reality distractions, and the home to a show called "Millionaire Matchmaker", hosted by Patti Stanger.  She drove me crazy for awhile, but she is entertaining (she yells at men when they treat women badly, it's really quite funny to watch) and occasionally she has some wisdom to depart on those of us who don't understand this whole 'dating' thing.

Awhile back, when I decided half-heartedly that I was sick of being alone and it was time to get rolling into the dating scene and I was cruising around Amazon for the geek equivalent of "Dating for Dummies" (there is none.  I mean, there is a "Dating for Dummies" but I skipped it), I ran across Patti's own How to book,  Become Your Own Matchmaker, and bought a used copy of it (used books on Amazon are my not-too-guilty pleasure).  I read some of it when I got it, and then got distracted by something else, so it was just sitting here.

Since I do occasionally go have a smoke in my car at work now, and since I discovered that if I'm not just sitting there, staring at the dashboard I don't smoke as much of the cigarette, I've taken to putting books in the car that I can't seem to find time at home to read.  Mostly non-fiction. Mostly stuff that's broken up into short chapters.  (This is where I read the entirety of "Everything you wanted to know about sex....").  This week, Patti's book graced my front seat.

I'll admit that I probably haven't got much out of reading the book.  Maybe I'm resistant.  Maybe I'm stubborn.  Whatever the reason, I just don't think I've learned much, though I *have been entertained. (She has a co-writer, but you can definitely tell that it's her stories and her words in most places).

So I didn't really learn anything.

Until today.

In a chapter entitled "Adventures in Dating", in a sub-chapter called "The 4:1 Rule", Patti says:

...you must give something back to him, but you can't top him.  The woman who gives more than the man in a relationship reverses the masculine/feminine roles.  First, the man will appreciate it, then he'll expect it, and eventually, he'll resent it.

Fucking hell. Are you kidding me? Is that what I've been screwing up this whole time? *chuckle (okay, no, I'm sure that's only a portion of what I've been screwing up *grin)

Look, there has only been one relationship that's lasted longer than 2 weeks that I've been in where the man made more money than I did.  One.  Just one.  Because I have an innate sense of fairness, I always figured if I had more, I should spend more.

I mean, no.  That's not the only reason I've broken Patti's Golden Rule thousands of times in the course of my life.  There's the insecurity and wanting to give give give to try to get get get.  There's guilt for not being *quite what someone wanted and trying to compensate for what I felt were my shortcomings.  Thankfully, those last two sentences are no longer issues for me, but looking back at it now, what she says - the outcome portion of it anyway - seems to be...wow.  Right the hell on.  And reading it gave me one hell of an AH HA moment.

So much so that the book actually came inside tonight (I usually leave whatever I'm reading in the car until I'm done with it) so that I could write this and then maybe spend some more time seeing if she can find anymore of my dumb blonde moment fuckups to share with me.

I mean, look.  If I knew what I was doing, I wouldn't be single, would I? *grin

Options

(Picture: Nene Thomas.  The only faerie pictures I have ever been drawn to.)

I read an awesome quote today:

"What side of this boat am I supposed to be rowing on, anyway?"

What's the problem, right?  You have two options! Pick one, and get on with it!

Yea, not so fast.

Options are good.
But options are also tricky.

You can over-think decisions.  I do that too much.  I'm trying to trust my instincts more. The more I can do that and be right, the more I'll be able to trust in what I feel - good, bad, or ugly.

Issues That Turn Corners

One of the things the psychic said about me last Friday was that I have grown aggressive.

And in some areas of my life, she's right.  But in other areas, she's not.

( she looks like she'd be aggressive in bed, doesn't she?  I like that look.  I like to look like that sometimes, too *grin)


As a rule, I am not an aggressive person.  I become aggressive when there is ...

• something I REALLY want
• I am cornered
• I am motivated or,
• I am frightened.

I'm also sometimes aggressively sexually...but you knew that, if you've been reading here, don't you? *grin

I don't get cornered or frightened very often, and it seems like I'm not all that motivated very often, either.

Which has become an issue, unfortunately. But not all issues are bad.  Sometimes, an issue is an opportunity to push beyond your boundaries, and make things happen. 

About a year ago, I got some not-unexpected news that I had a health issue.  Not a life threatening one, but an annoying one to be sure, and one that if not treated, was not going to go away on it's own.

And it hasn't.

So today, for some reason, I motivated myself to make an appointment.  Luckily, the doctor had a cancellation for tomorrow, so I nabbed it.  It's time to start taking care of things.

I'm hoping this one push forward on this one subject will propel me to handle some other outstanding issues.

Maybe I can fake aggressive until I actually get there.  You know they always say "Fake it until you make it."  Personally, I've always said that faking anything sucks *smirk but maybe in this case it's allowed.

Souvenirs

I'll admit it.  I'm a souvenir kind of girl.

The last couple of times I've stayed in a hotel with illicit activities as my intent, it was a place that had metal doors, and used magnets rather than those cute little 'do not disturb' signs that go over the doorknob.  I have two of those magnets on my refrigerator as we speak. One says "Later, please...".  The other, which I unashamedly stole right off the the unattended maid's cart outside the room the morning I left says "Pet in Suite."

Well, there certainly was that weekend. Question is: was it me, or was it him? /smirk

A few months ago, I went through a box of souvenirs I've been carting around for 10 or more years.  90% of that box went into the trash.  Some of it, I lovingly re-read or smelled before I pitched it, but I pitched it just the same.

I keep things because I enjoy remembering.  I enjoy looking back fondly.  I enjoy running across a movie ticket or a matchbook and being transported out of my busy, stressful life into a moment that maybe is less busy and less stressful and fills my heart with laughter and turns the corners of my lips up ever so slightly into a seductive, lascivious grin. I've even been known to leave a few behind for someone; a pair of panties in a jacket pocket, a spray of perfume on a suitcase; a note stuck inside a briefcase....

But everything has an expiration date; a point where it either has lost 'that lovin' feeling' or just doesn't bring back enough of that grin to warrant keeping it around.

 That's why I have a mostly empty keepsake box.

But there are other kinds of keepsakes.  Some, like bite marks and scents, that fade pretty quickly.  Some like a vivid memory of a specific point in time that grow less vivid over time. 

And then there are some that last far beyond their expiration date, to our delight or dismay.  Songs fit into this category for me.  There are songs that even know I will turn off the radio rather than listen to, and some that I will crank up even though the relationship that accompanies the memories in my head has long since gone to seed.  "Melissa" by the Allman Brothers is one that gets cranked up.  It's been a favorite song of mine since high school and brings me back to a very specific point in time that now makes me smile. 

Souvenirs don't always have to fit in a box.  Call me sentimental, but I will always keep them until they expire.

And don't even get me started on photographs.....

Short Skirts #8

(Interludes? Pfft.  Short Skirts is more fun~)

Really?  You're worried about my dress wrinkling? All right, I'll just take it off.



Yes, I did have the garter belt and thong on at dinner.  No, I didn't tell you.  I had hoped you'd discover it on your own.  Having that little secret was fun. I'm full of surprises.  Don't you know that by now?

Yes, my thong is a little wet. I told you.  I liked having that little secret from you.  Crossing and uncrossing my legs under the table.. feeling the cool air-conditioned breeze blowing up my dress, contrasting to the heat between my thighs.  It kept my mind busy all through dinner, thinking about telling you or not telling you... should I slide my skirt up a little in the car, so you catch a glimpse?  Or should I keep this little secret ...

It was fun knowing you were sitting there eating your dinner with no idea how wet my cunt was...just inches away from you.  You know now though. 

I should have told you?  What would you have done? Why don't you tell me while we get you out of your clothes.

Oh yes.  Next time, I'm definitely slide up my skirt and show you....

From a Better Place

I'll be the one of the first one to say it: My submission used to come from a not-entirely healthy place.

I say not entirely, because when I started in BDSM, I don't consider myself to have been mentally fit. I wouldn't say I'm fully there now, but I'd give myself an 85% at least --- and I'm still interested in being sexually submissive sometimes.

I don't think the origins of it has changed.  I am very turned on by being submissive in bed (or out of it *grin), just as I have always been, but there are some significant differences:

• It's not necessary to have an element of that submissiveness every time I fuck someone.  I used to almost *need to have that be a part of sex, but now, I'm content without it -- and even sometimes interested in turning the table.
• I was unable to articulate my wants and needs for a long time, and used the 'submissive' card to not really have to; I could just be say "Whatever you want" and make it sound appealing to a so-called dominant partner.  
• I no longer need a reason to do the things I used to think to myself "I'm only doing this because he told me to."  I can do things just because I want to, and not feel bad about it..at all!

While  a lot of my relationships before I discovered "real bdsm" (*chuckle) had an element of dominance/submission, it wasn't until I was 28 or so that I actually had a name/phrase/acronym for it.  Somewhere mid-way between my ex and I getting back together and him going into the Navy, the d/s disappeared entirely from our relationship and no amount of asking/pushing/hinting was bringing it back.  I understand that now, but then, it was very confusing.  But it did have an unseen advantage; it taught me to do without, and to find other things to get turned on by.

I don't think I'll be thanking him for that, though.

Now, when I get a hankerin' to submit - whether that entails doing what I'm told; or crawling across the floor; or asking (or begging) to cum; or letting go and letting someone fuck my mouth -- it turns me on -- not because I'm afraid to voice my wants or needs, or because I'm a meek little mouse, or because it's all that really turns me on  -- it's because in that moment, that is what I want.  Take me, use me, make me.

Because next time, I might want to take you, use you, make you.

You just never know with me, do you?

I was a good submissive then.
Now, I'm a good submissive now.

But it's on much healthier terms.  My terms.  Not my self-conscious terms.  My self-confident terms. 

Faithless

No, this picture doesn't have anything to do with what I'm going to write about, but it's a hot little outfit and I thought perhaps since I have a not-hot subject to write about, this might help.

It occurred to me sometime yesterday that I've always considered myself shy and a little insecure.

And then this morning, when a friend said to me that he was shy, I said to him that often times, shyness is mistaken for a fear of rejection.

But as I was driving to meet my folks today it occurred to me that even that may not be my answer.

No.  I think for me it's that I just don't have any faith in anyone anymore.

The psychic said to me Friday night that I don't depend on anyone because I can't -- or, I've been shown that I can't depend on anyone else for anything. And she was right. It's why I don't ask for help.  It's why I don't ask for things I want or need.  And it's why I have such a difficult time putting myself out there.

I've spent the better part of my life waffling between holding people to the same high standards I hold myself to, and not expecting much and then being overly grateful when I get anything.

Neither of these are ideal.  And I'm not sure I know where - or what - that middle ground is.

I can't spend the rest of my life faithless.  Nor can I go to the other end of that spectrum (where I spent way too much time as it is) and just trust everyone.  I know there's a happy medium there.  I've seen most everyone I know use it and succeed.  I just don't know how.  I guess that's my next big thing to ponder.

I'm not saying that I'm not at all shy.  Or that I'm not at all insecure.  I think both of those are at least partially true in a small way.  And I am most definitely one to not ask, as to not be rejected.  But the deeper part of that is that I expect to be rejected, and as a human being, I should not expect that.

If for nothing else, the trip Friday night was worth it for the simple fact that it's forced me to think -- and to look at things differently.

While it's not easy, it's necessary.

Now, pardon me while I go lose myself in "The Secret Diary of a Call Girl - Season 1."  I think I've earned some distraction time *smile

Damn you, FoH

Once a month or so, I get a new Frederick's of Hollywood catalog.

Damn you, Frederick's, for bringing all these new temptations into my life.

So much lingerie, so little occasion to wear it.

 

I mean, seriously.  How am I supposed to resist this stuff? I'm not made of stone....

There's so much more but I just can't post any more pictures without risking my bank balance....




Must....
     ...resist....
          pretties........

Distractions

Today, this is my distraction.  I'm re-watching Season 2 of Queer as Folk.  I still haven't seen the last season of this series, so I'm re-watching everything up until then before I do that.

I find myself hunting for distractions.  Constantly.  Even at work, I'm doing 2-3 things at once to keep my mind from being idle.

The psychic yesterday told me that my life is full of clutter.  She's right.  And not just at a "I have too much shit just sitting around" kind of way. 

I packed up 4 garbage bags full of clothes and 7 grocery bags full of books today and am taking them to meet my folks tomorrow.  Clothes for the woman's shelter, books for their tiny town library.  Less clutter. Physically, anyway.

I watch too much TV these days, for that distraction.  She also said yesterday, as I wrote last night, that I need to focus on my writing, and I do.  But sitting in the recliner as I am now, typing on the laptop is not the same for me as sitting in my office and actually *writing.  I blog with the TV on.  Right now, I'm watching episode 18 of QaF Season 2.  But it's apparently not distracting enough, so I'm also messing around on Facebook. 

Why?

Because if I stop long enough.... if I let my mind stop.... if I sit with the quiet.....

I will have to think.

And apparently, I do not want to think.

I am going to try it though.  I'm going to try to let the quiet wash over me at some point today.  Because I need to get used to it.  I need to be able to sit at my desk to write without looking for more things to occupy myself with.

But right now, I need to finish my laundry and shower and finish watching this episode and think about dinner and ... and ....

Psychic Encounters

I did something today that I haven't done for several years.  I went to see a psychic.

Now, if you don't believe in anything metaphysical, you might want to just skip this whole thing.  I personally have my skepticisms, but there is a lot of it I do put some stock in.

I walked in, listened to her tell me not to speak during the reading (so that I didn't say something that lead her in any direction).   I agreed, handed over my silver and onyx ring for her to use as a connection, cut the tarot cards and sat back for her to read. She asked me twice if I was sure she hadn't read for me before... like she felt like we had.  I did not smile, nod, speak or even make much eye contact during the reading (so that she wasn't led anywhere).

The first things she said to me were these:

• I am fiercely independent because I have to be.  People depend on me, but I don't really have anyone to depend on.
• I am aggressive and stubborn.  Coupled with the independence, these are relatively new traits for me, coming into being 3-6 years ago in a major life event.  
• I am a writer, and very creative, and I need to spend more time focusing on that
• I am overly sensitive.
• I am deeply empathic, which leads me to give as much of myself and my resources as I can, but even that has lessened in the last few years, as I grew tired of not receiving enough in return.
  
• I am very healthy, but I have a hormonal imbalance and I don't eat very well.

She had me there.

She paused for a few minutes and looked at the cards and started pointing at them.

Work:  I work in a catty environment, but I am well respected and responsible.  At some point, I will be offered a new position (she didn't know if it was at my current company or a new company) that will not be exactly what I want, but it will come with a promise that will be fulfilled, and then I will be very happy.  Also, that she sees me pursuing some sort of education, but she couldn't tell what for - work or recreation.

Finances: Improvement.  I will be signing legal papers in the spring and I should check them very carefully and make any changes that my heart tells me to make before I sign them.

Love: She saw a circular relationship (my ex and I were together 3 times).  She also said that she saw a relationship in which every time I get close, I will get pushed away.  She couldn't tell if perseverance would pay off or not, but that it would be painful finding out.  She also said that she did not see any "white picket fences" for me.

Health: She said she sees 3 surgeries coming up for me and all will be successful.  (I almost fell out of the fucking chair.  Really.  Holy shit.).  She couldn't tell when they would occur, just that they would.

The last thing she said was that she saw a dark cloud near me.  She says I've had it since I was very young, and that it's full of negativity.  And that until I accept myself the way I am, it will remain.

We chatted a bit.  I told her a few of the things she'd said had been right on, and why - mainly the surgeries, and come to find out, she had a lap band surgery last year.  She told me that my chakrahs are out of whack (duh) and to give some thought to having them aligned (not sure what that entails, going to find out). Also, she says that if I do that, she'd like to do a spiritual reading to see if I weren't paying for something that happened to me in a past life (not sure how much of that I believe in, either).  She said she was very curious about it herself, from the reading.  She told me that until I accept myself, I'm going to stay -- stuck.

She actually hugged me before I left.

It was well worth having to drive downtown and try to find parking and walk 3 blocks.  I left feeling good.

I'm going to look into the chakrah thing.  But for now, it renews my faith in things that are far greater than myself, and that above anything else, is what I needed.

More Conventional Wisdom

More wisdom from those beautiful cable series:

Queer as Folk, Season 2, Teddy and Brian

Teddy: Everyone has someone except me.
Brian: The reason you don't have a boyfriend is because you don't want one. 
Teddy: I don't?
Brian: If you had one, you would challenge the well-established opinion you have of yourself as a worthless sack of shit that nobody wants.  Therefore, you go after guys who you know will reject you and you stand around here and bitch like a high school girl when, in fact, you've gotten exactly what you want: mainly, nothing.  

Wow.  I had rewind that and listen to it twice, then once more to type it out.

What Lies Beneath

I've spent a great deal of time here lamenting my choices in underwear, but what I haven't really done is explore men's underwear, and my preferences.

Sorry, gents.  The eye candy this time isn't for you... well, I guess that depends on your taste.

First, let's get rid of this one.

I am not fond of briefs.  Never have been.I mean, I guess they could be sexy on the right guy, but I'm just not crazy about them.

These, either, for that matter.  I just don't think men need to be showing this much of their ass while still wearing underwear.I do not find them remotely sexy.  Call me old fashioned, but as far as men's underwear are concerned, I like a little mystery.

Boxers are all right, I guess.  But they rarely look like they fit another properly, and if they do, they gap which I find giggle worthy, not sexy.

Now, to the yes votes:

These are my second favorite.  When they fit right and mold themselves to the wearer's body, I find them incredibly sexy.  I have a little bit of an ass fetish when it comes to men...thighs, too.  These seem to bring out the best of both in most any man.

And then, there are these...which are my current favorite, which are close to the last ones, but shorter.

I mean, let's face it.  Men's underwear serves a much more stringent purpose than women's does.  They have to work harder and do more than women's do.  We're allowed to be a little more frivolous and vary our panties on a day to day basis, and not be nearly as practical.  We are much more able to choose our panties based on our mood any given morning or .. well whenever.

I am happy to see more choices for men though.  The evolution of the boxer brief has been a victory for both men and those that love to watch them parade around half naked.

We all win. *grin

More Wisdom from Pop Culture TV

From Queer As Folk, Season 2:

"That's what writers do.  We cut ourselves open and bleed all over the page."

Damn.  No wonder I always wanted to buy stock in Band-Aids.

What works

These interludes are fun.

It's not a commitment to write a whole story, start to finish. I don't seem to have the headspace to commit to that these days, much to my dismay.

But the erotic ideas are still breathing and whispering in my head. And it's such a shame to not take advantage of that creativity and let it grow and cook.

So these work.

I'm glad something does.

Interlude #7

I got all dressed up to dance for you.

You've done so many nice things for me lately that I wanted to give you a treat.

Do you like my boots? Do you like the way the shirt ties in the front? Easy access for me so that I can tease you and slowly reveal my hard nipples to you. And the black panties...well, they match the boots. And they show you just enough of my ass that you'll be sure not to miss it. I promise to face away from you and peel them down very slowly while I move my hips back and forth to the music. Once they're past my hips I'll stop, my fingers holding them right there.

It'll be up to you, then, what you want to put in them. Do you have a dollar bill? Or is there something else you'd like to slide against my ass instead?

I thought so.

Interlude #6

Are you sure you're tired?

You really want to curl up and go to sleep? I can't convince you to play before?

You'd sleep so much better if you came first. Let me take all that tension from you with my lips and my tongue.

Do you need to be inspired? Sit down. Let me show you what I'm wearing. Let me put on my shiny black heels and walk around the room. Let me put my hands against this wall, and push my ass out toward you, moving it back and forth slowly. Hypnotizing, isn't it?

No, sit down, I'll come to you.

Sit on the edge of your bed, and let me pull your cock out. See? You're hard. You want my lips wrapped around that hard cock, don't you? Let me slide down to my knees in front of you and take care of that for you. Let me suck the tension and the day's stress from you and swallow it.

Then you can sleep. And you're going to sleep so much better...

Interlude #5

I know you called and said you were coming to get me to go out to dinner.

I know we're supposed to be meeting friends for drinks afterward.

I know we haven't gone out for awhile.

But I really want to stay in and spend some quality time with you touching me in a non-public sort of way.

Will you be angry with me? Look at that pout. Look at those panties. How could you be be upset with me for wanting to eat in? After we've fucked, that is.

Yes. I'm hungry for your cock instead of steak.

What will it take to convince you that my idea is better?