Off Track

I really wanted to write over my long weekend last week. Didn’t happen. Why? Because last weekend wasn’t about creating, it was about breaking things down.

That did include some cleaning and organizing that needed to happen. But it also included breaking down my apparent frustration in where my weight is.

I had to go see the doctor last week. It’s nice that I go to the same franchise clinic that did my surgery three years ago. They have all of my records, no matter which of the three clinics I go to. I like that. I also like that I can see most results and statistics online.

But the downside to that is that they track my weight pretty closely because of the surgery. And apparently, somewhere between last week and last year, I gained four pounds. Doesn’t sound like much, does it? Not a big deal.

But to me, it was devastating. I still had 12 pounds to lose, and here, I had actually gained 4 pounds?!? What the hell was that!

So I beat the crap out of myself for a couple days and then I focused my head again and got busy. I’m counting every calorie and I’m back on the exercise bike. I got off track. I quit paying attention. It’s no wonder I wasn’t losing and had actually gained. I wouldn’t have been so frustrated at the gain, I decided, had I actually hit the goal I set for myself last year. But since I hadn’t, I really did some serious bitching at my reflection.

So now, I have sixteen to lose.

I didn’t get on the scale. I know I should have, first thing before I started. But my scale has about an inch of dust on it, because I gave up on it. The closer I got to goal, the less it moved and I finally just put it away. I didn’t want my mood every day to depend on a variable number. I’ll get the courage up to get it back out before the week is out.

While I don’t like being down on myself, I do like that this lit a fire under my ass and I feel like I have a little bit of focus now. More than a little bit, actually. I hope I can apply it to other things in my life that need doing – like my writing – and my home.

I’m hoping I can stay on track this time, and get these stupid sixteen pounds off and maybe in the process, make exercise a habit again. I quit riding my bike before because I pounded at it so hard that I hurt my knee doing it. I started slow this time. Maybe that’ll help.

Send good vibes if ya got ‘em. I’m sure I could them.

Wisdom

The Wisdom of Silent Bob

"There’s a million fine lookin women in the world, dude, but they don’t all bring you lasagna at work. Most of them just cheat on you…" Kevin Smith as Silent Bob, from the movie Clerks.

Serenity

I’m not much of a crowd follower. In my younger days I was. I started smoking, didn’t I? But now, I tend to run screaming from anything that too many people rave about. Intentional rebel? Maybe. More like I just don’t like to be normal *grin

So when yet another friend of mine started raving about an TV Series called “Firefly”, I cringed a little. C raved about it, as well as several of my other friends. But I finally cracked, more from curiosity than anything else, and I bought the dvd set just to make them all pipe down. I mean – c’mon. Space western? What the hell is that? I’m not a huge science fiction fan and while I do have a cowboy fetish, I’m not really a western fan, either. It sat on the shelf of my tv stand for well over a month before I finally caved and put the first dvd in.

From about the first half hour into the 2 hour pilot, I realized something. I really did like the damn show.

I was disgusted with myself about that for awhile. Then I gave up the ghost and decided that even this weird space western had clever humor, good action and a cast of characters that was unique. I absolutely adore the girls in this series, especially Annora and Kaylee. Annora is so blazingly upfront and sensual. Her career path, while not something I'd seriously do, is something that intrigues me nonetheless. And Kaylee in her innocence... you know she's not that innocent. You know there's a very deep sexuality buried under all those smiles and that sweetness.

So, the three words that I dislike saying and everyone seems to love to hear from me ….

You. Were. Right.

Okay. Fine. Let’s move on.

After I finished watching the last three episodes of Firefly last night, and then the special features, I decided I probably would get in the car and drive to Border’s today to get the movie, Serenity. I did that today.

In other news …

A couple weeks ago, I picked up the special edition of Clerks II, since I have up until now neglected to buy it. I love View Askew movies. I have had a serious crush on Silent Bob (Mr Kevin Smith) since the first time I saw Clerks. Once or twice a year, I line up all of my Kevin Smith movies and have a little tribute day. For me, that’s Clerks, Mallrats, Chasing Amy, Dogma and Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back. Now, I can add Clerks II to that.

Not only are these movies hilarious, but there are classic lines in every one of these that just stick in your head forever. Two of my favorites come from Chasing Amy.

“I love you, I always will. Know that. But I'm not your fucking whore. “

“I was an experimental girl for Christ sake! Maybe you knew from early on your track was from point A to B, but unlike you I was not given a fucking map at birth, so I tried it all! That is until we, you and I, got together and suddenly I was sated! “

That man should never stop writing. Ever.

So this weekend, while I’m recovering from some gawd awful virus that’s making it’s way around Madison, I’m going to hole up, have my Kevin Smith Film Festival and watch the Firefly movie.

And write. I intend to write. *grin

Enjoy your holiday!

Healthy

So, what makes a healthy sexual relationship?

Are you wondering where that came from? Me, too. It just kinda popped into my head today while I was cussing out downed DSL connections and having to re-do an hours worth of work. It popped back into my head tonight while I was straightening my hair(which I finally got exactly the way I wanted it with the new cut so it’s a banner evening here). So I figure it’s worth exploring a little.

Out of the several relationships I have had over the years, I’d have to say that very few of them were actually healthy sexual relationships. At one time, I was overly co-dependent and slightly passive-aggressive, and my sexual relationships were steeped in that. I didn’t ask for things I wanted, I gave what my partner wanted, and then felt resentful that I wasn’t getting what I needed. Well, duh.

I can say “well, duh” now because I know better. But then, I thought I was doing what I was supposed to be doing: taking care of my partner, and leaving my own needs for last.

Yea, that’s not very healthy.

A healthy sexual relationship is much like I described when I wrote about casual relationships: It’s a relationship in which both people get everything they need and a large part of what they want. Both people feel energized by their time together, rather than drained by it. Both people are honest about their feelings and feel free to share their personal fantasies and desires. Both people are sexually satisfied and look forward to being together in that way. You’re both comfortable enough to be open about almost everything you’ve ever conceived sexually and you’re both accepting of each other’s conceptions, whether you’re interested in carrying them out or not. Typically, that’s all many people are looking for; the acceptance of what they fantasize about. Carrying it out is gravy over the person you’re fucking listening and being receptive to what you have to say.

If both people are at least relatively emotionally healthy on their own, and if they share similar moral values, there’s no reason that their sexual relationship won’t be healthy, too. But that’s not really a guarantee. The smallest thing can cause one person’s emotional health from one direction to the other. In a matter of minutes. Usually it will swing back the other way, but not always. Everyone has triggers. But hopefully if you’ve gotten to know someone before sleeping with them, you’ll learn to avoid the big ones.

A healthy sexual relationship can do more than fulfill fantasies. It can help you sleep better. Lose weight. Open your mind. Learn to be more open and less shy.

But it’s not a cure-all for what ails ya. Make no mistake about that. You need to be able to give as well as you get. One-sided relationships are not healthy relationships. Additionally, any relationship that damages other parts of your life is not healthy, either.

I guess the bottom line is this: If both parties in the relationship feel good about it, and it’s not ruining anything else in your life, chances are it’s healthy. And a healthy sex life is a beautiful thing.

Now all I gotta do is get serious about finding one *grin

The Importance of Kissing

Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves. ~Albert Einstein

I got two new big pillows for my bed. I used to have 4 fluffy feather pillows on it, but over the last six months, two of them have developed "leaks" and I've had to set them aside to be taken to my mom for repairs. I got a couple of very nice faux down filled pillows, hoping that since they aren't real down, they won't leak *grin. I also bought some high-count pillowcases for them, so they're actually very luxurious on my bed. I’m going back to get the matching sheets.

I have so many pillows for a reason. I like the bed feeling 'full'. I sorely dislike the idea of an empty bed for long periods of time, and I got used to having so many when C was out of sea so much. Even if you're in the bed alone, you feel a certain volume to it. And it helps.

Beyond having another body in the bed, one of the big things I miss about having a consistent partner/lover/boyfriend/what-the-hell-ever is kissing. Sounds simple enough, right? It’s really not.

I recently told someone that, in relation to a casual relationship, the lack of kissing would be a deal breaker for me. Remember the scene in Pretty Woman where Julia Robert’s character says that she never kisses her tricks? I understand it in her case. But in my case, it doesn’t work. Not only are people not ‘tricks’ to me, but kissing is a huge part of the whole sexual experience. A great kisser can make me immediately ready for sex. A bad kisser can turn me off so much that I don’t even feel remotely up to sex. I have gotten past it in a few cases, but for the most part, if a guy is a bad kisser, chances are I’m not going any further with them.

I’ve had kisses that were so wet I felt like I needed a towel. And conversely some so dry that I wondered if there was some sort of physical deformity involved. If a guy immediately stuff my mouth full of tongue I’m not going to react well to it. There needs to be a bit of finesse involved in that, and some guys, no matter what their age, still haven’t learned that. I don’t like ‘loose lips’ either.

Picky? Yup. And unapologetic about it. Kissing is sexy as hell to me and important. If someone can fire me up with a couple of hot kisses, I know I have myself a winner.

Yes, it really is that important.

A man's kiss is his signature. ~Mae West

Making out should be fun. Spending an hour, two, three with someone on a couch or a blanket or a bed before any actual sex happens can be a shitload of fun and should never be ignored. Not every time you have sex, of course, but often enough that neither of you forget that the base of sexual attraction is not simply intercourse. It’s all the stuff that leads to fucking, too.

Kissing is a big part of that. Probably the most important part. And well worth the time to learn to do properly.

Anti-Instant

Sometimes I wonder if my life wouldn’t be easier if I were like a majority of the population – an instant gratification girl.

It occurred to me today as I was cleaning house, and doing some thinking about certain subjects that I’m not the kind of person to go masturbate *every time I get an itch. Sometimes, like today, I like to wait. I like to live with that itch for awhile, make it grow, make it drag on. As I said recently, I draw a lot of my creative energy from my sexual energy, and by pointedly *not running for my vibrator every time I get a twinge, I can develop and draw that out even more.

I haven’t written any erotica in awhile and I miss it. The creative process that goes into writing a good piece of erotic fiction is something that really does fulfill me. While I also want to write non-erotic fiction, erotica is my first love simply because it’s where I had my first major successes. I have a couple of fantasy stories in my head but for some reason I have more difficulty sitting down to write those out.

If I were the kind of person who sought out instant gratification, I’d be able to sit down and write whenever the muses struck me, but I’m not that way. Just like sexual energy, I like to let the creative energy build until I can barely stand it. That way, I’m assured that I’ll sit down and write a good piece, start to finish, rather than leaving these half-written pieces all over my desktop (of which I have about four right now). I save them on my desktop because I like seeing them there to remind me that I have work to do.

If I were an instant gratification kind of person, I’d probably be looking a little harder for a local ‘friend’. But I’m not. I’m not avoiding it, but I’m not out there sending winks on personal sites and writing emails to anyone who strikes my fancy. Maybe I should be, but I’m not. I typically wait for someone to write to me first. Old fashioned? Maybe. But likely more because I know something about myself.

I am not everyone’s cup of tea. And that’s okay.

In the last three years, I’ve had a couple of profiles up on some personal sites. Not hard core ones, but not really half-hearted ones either. They’re just there. They’re just me. Out of every ten responses I get, I might respond to one person. Out of the ten or so I’ve seriously responded to, I’ve met five gentlemen. And out of those five gentlemen, most of them haven’t bothered to ask for a second meeting.

And that’s okay.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I don’t know how to date. Maybe I don’t give off the right kind of vibes when I meet these guys or maybe I’m not at all what they were expecting. But I am who I am, and I’m not going to put on airs to make a false first impression.

And that’s okay.

This is not to say that I don’t dress up and do my hair and put on make-up. I do. But I try to go into them relaxed, and I always tell myself that whether he calls me again or not, I’m all right either way. I know that these are things that are normal for most people. And I feel like I’m about 20 years behind where I should be, because of the kinds of relationships I’ve had in my life.

And that’s okay. Because it’s never too late to do things the right way.

And the right way for me is to be patient. Just as I am with my writing. Just as I am with my sexual energy. And just as I am with this whole dating thing.

Patience is the antithesis of instant gratification, and it has a lot less opportunity for failure. So I’m okay with that. *grin

Now, having said that, I think maybe I’ve waited long enough *grin

Ain't No Miracles Here baby

For anyone out there who thinks the way I used to --- that if you could just change that one part of your life that you thought was holding you back from being completely happy, your life would be perfect --- please don’t. It’s not true.

For all of my adult life, I told myself that if I could just lose enough weight to be a normal size, that the other parts of my life would magically fall into place.

Guess what? Not so much.

I’ve been under ‘normal’ size now for over a year (Normal size is considered to be a size 12/14) and my life is far from perfect. I do have much more self-confidence. I am healthier. And I do look 200% better. I do have a good job that I like. I am saving money and paying off debt. I am living in a huge duplex that I really do like.

But not everything fell into place the way I expected it to. I mean, how could it? But the fact is, when you are mired down in shit, and so dis-satisfied with your life that you focus so intently on one thing that you just know is going to fix everything, it definitely keeps you motivated and going, which is good. But at the end of it all – when you have attained your goal, it’s a pretty big let down.

I’m not complaining. I am very happy with everything that I’ve accomplished and I am not ungrateful for my health, both physical and emotional. But contrary to what I ‘believed’ would happen, my life has not magically transformed into what I always wanted. The last couple weeks have really driven that home for me.

I’d rather be buried in reality than living in a fantasy world, and that’s where I am. This is my reality.

There may be that one big thing that you know you have to change. But don’t believe for a minute that that one thing is going to totally reconstruct your life. It won’t.

But if you’re very lucky, changing that one thing will give you the courage to keep going, and keep changing, until your life is closer to what you want it to be. That’s where I am right now. I’m trying to decide what’s next.

Do ....who?

I was doing some reading on one of my bdsm message boards the other night. I’ll admit I’ve kind of abandoned them lately as I’ve been spending much more time working on some fantasy (as in sci-fi fantasy) story ideas and just letting myself relax and be in the moment than I have reading forums. Anyway, as I read through a series of posts about dominant expectations I got to thinking…

Do-er dominant, or do-me dominant?

I’ve had both. M was much more of a do-er. Whether it was pain, sex or roleplay, M wanted to direct what was happening. M liked to ‘play’. C, on the other hand, was a do-me dominant. “Do this for me, do that for me.” Unless it was an occasional spanking, he really wasn’t that interested in ‘playing’ at all. While I am not currently in the market for a dominant per se, I do still enjoy elements of dominant/submissive play in my sex life sometimes, so it’s still a pertinent topic.

For me, a do-er dominant is one that plays *with his submissive. One that uses toys, including and most importantly his mind, to draw emotions and reactions from her to his satisfaction. A do-me dominant, conversely is one who wants to be serviced. I think more than anything, it’s a matter of who has the focus, and who is the center of attention in most cases in the relationship.

As to which I prefer, it’d be easy to say a combination of the two, but that’s not necessarily always true. I know that there definitely are submissives for whom service is their biggest kink, I’m not that. Do I enjoy doing it sometimes? Yes. Do I want to make a career out of it? Does it make me wet in anticipation? No.

That’s not to say that I expect to be a passive player with a do-er dominant. I’m not very good at being passive to be honest. But as I’ve said many times before being told what to do at the right time in the right place can be a very big turn on. And as I seem to have lost most of my self-consciousness issues with being ‘the center of attention’, being ‘toyed’ with and ‘played’ with has a bit more appeal to me than it used to.

I used to have a very good submissive friend to whom service was key in her relationship. Her master demanded it, and it made her happy and fulfilled to provide it. Even their play was not about play; it was about her doing what he wanted, when he wanted, and she provided him a canvas on which to play. They were a perfect match, and very happy together. Definitely not the norm, but just right for each other.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with either the do-er dominant or the do-me dominant. I think there are submissives out there to match nearly every percentage of either side that exists. The key is to be careful what you wish for, and to be careful how you present your expectations to a potential partner.

Define Casual

I love getting questions from people who read here. First of all, it lets me know that someone’s actually reading this blog (lol), and second of all it lets me know that I’m provoking thought. Both of these things make me happy.

Over the last several months, I’ve mentioned ‘casual’ relationships a lot. One of my readers wants to know what I mean by a ‘casual sexual relationship’. I scanned back through some posts, and it appears she’s right; I never really defined that.

I can’t define it for everyone, either. Anyone who has or wants or talks about casual sexual relationships probably has different ideas of what that should be. What I mean by it may not be what someone else means. I guess maybe that’s why it’s even more important to have a clear definition of what casual is – and is not.

You’ll notice that most of these points address an issue of respect or friendship in one way or another. To me, those are two of the most important points of any casual relationship definition.

- Casual does not mean ‘one night’, ‘one weekend’ or ‘one fuck’. The second word in ‘casual relationship’ is ‘relationship’ and be that ‘dating’ or ‘friendship’, it denotes that this is not a one time thing. It means that before the sex and after the sex, the rest of the relationship will continue.

- Casual does not mean there is a lack of respect for the other person’s time, attention, energy or personal space. Again, because there is another piece of the relationship beyond fucking, that respect should naturally be there. While a casual relationship in and of itself means that there is no commitment, if a commitment of time is made – if plans are made – I expect them to be respected no less than you would of a very good friend, or someone you were dating. Casual does not mean you can blow the other person off ‘just because’.

- Casual does not mean ‘exclusive’ nor does it mean that either party should not be looking for their ultimate goal in relationship land. However, timing is key here. I don’t want someone I’m having a casual relationship flirting with someone else in front of me. When someone is ‘with’ me, spending time with me, I expect them to be with me. Spend all your other time looking for your Ms. Right. But if you have my attention, I expect to have yours.

- Casual does not mean a lack of regard for the other person’s feelings. It doesn’t mean that just because you are not working toward a long term commitment, that the other person’s feelings should not matter. This also means that you are obligated to share any changing feelings about the relationship with the other person so that those feelings, or possibilities can be explored, and the relationship can be altered to accommodate – either by ending the sexual part of it, or making the relationship less casual overall.

Having said all of that, a casual relationship should be fun. It should be an opportunity to play with things you’ve never been comfortable playing with in a serious relationship. It should be a chance to let go and be yourself. And above all, it should be giving you back what you put into it. (And that’s true of any sort of relationship out there – from your job to your family.) That doesn’t mean you should treat the other person casually. It’s the relationship that’s casual, not your friend. If you feel that you’re contributing more than you’re getting back for extended periods of time, you’re slowly going to feel less like being there, and it’s taking a chance on ruining the friendship that happens outside of sex.

Just for the record, this wasn’t as easy to define as I thought it was going to be. At basis of it all is the friendship. And if I don’t have that, the rest of it isn’t going to fall into place for me.

I want to make clear, too, that just because I talk about casual relationships a lot doesn’t mean that I’m opposed to something more. If I were to meet someone that I felt that deeper connection with, I’d certainly be more than open to exploring it.

Does that help clarify? :)

Imagine

There are lots of things that go into a good sexual experience. Technique of course is important. Sexual chemistry, of course. The ability to be spontaneous. The confidence to take chances. All of these things go into making a sexual experience fun, passionate and memorable.

There’s something else though, that very often gets overlooked. Imagination.

You can have the best technique in the world – a quick tongue, agile hands and hips that move perfectly. But if you don’t have the imagination to back that up, you’re going to get boring quickly.

You have to change things up sometimes. Even subtle alterations can make a big difference in a typical fuck and an outstanding fuck.

Being completely in the moment helps. Following your instincts and letting yourself carry out things that come into your head (that you believe your partner will enjoy that is) is part of it, too. Being brave enough to actually do those silly, sexy, passionate things that come into your head can mean the difference between getting off big and just getting off.

Imagination doesn’t have to mean that every sexual encounter is a big production with costumes and toys (although that’s fun, too). It means that you’re willing to expend some extra energy – that you’re confident, that you’re open to new things, that you’re willing to explore and drag your partner along with you. It means that sometimes it’s not enough to ‘go with the flow’. Not enough for you, not enough to make the event special.

And I am a firm believer in making sex special *grin

I have a big imagination. I don’t think that’s a surprise to anyone. When I’m comfortable and confident in bed, I’m able to make up for a lack of imagination in my partner. Sometimes.

But the fact is that I feed off of feedback from my partner, too. I want to see facial expressions and I want to hear guttural noises from deep in his throat when he’s having a good time. When I have physical manifestations of sexual pleasure on display before me, my creativity level can soar. Because that feedback makes me want to work even harder and see just how much I can wring out of him before it’s over.

*grin

It’s good to have imagination. It’s even better to exercise it, and use it.

Find some.

Recovery Times

Ideas of things to write about come to me at the weirdest times. Ideas of things to write about come at inopportune times. But occasionally, an idea will come to me when I can’t exactly write about it, but in the moment, I can decide exactly what I want to say.

It occurred to me the other night, after I rolled over immediately after my self-inflicted before-bed orgasm was finished, that solo orgasms are different than orgasms given to you, or shared with another person.

Now, obviously, that’s true. But all of the mental and emotional stuff isn’t what I was thinking of. I was thinking of the fact that when I have an orgasm with another person it – meaning from the peak to the full recovery – last a LOT longer than the ones I have at home alone.

When I go to bed at night, almost every night, after I’ve read for awhile and shut the light off, I have a quickie with the vibrator I keep under my bed. I’m guessing on average, 30 seconds after I peak, I’ve already rolled over and closed my eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever recovered that quickly when playing with another person.

There are sometimes when it takes a little longer for me to roll over. Sometimes, if the fantasy I’m rocking around in my head is more ‘real’ to me, I’ll drag it out longer. Sometimes, if it’s more about actual sex and less about stress-relief/sleep-assistance, I’ll take a little more time. But on average, I don’t do that.

That’s a shame, really. But in the real world, where I don’t have a regular sexual partner and most of my orgasms *are self-induced, things are what they are. There are, of course, other times besides right before bed that I masturbate. And at those times, especially if I do it in my chair at my desk or my chair in the living room, it’s usually with a specific thought in mind and I will take a bit more time and enjoy the afterglow. But even then, it’s different than the intensity and the duration of a good hard orgasm with a partner.

I’m not sure if it’s the aura of sexual chemistry that surrounds an orgasm shared with a partner, or the fact that as a female, I never know if it’s the last one when I’m with someone else (can he wring one more out of me? Can he? Yum I hope so). I don’t get either of those when I’m lying in my bed with my electronic assistance. I get “I need to cum because ….” And then I make it happen.

Oh I’m not trying to make it sound sad. It’s not. I am mostly without a partner very consciously. I’d say by choice but I don’t believe choice is the right word. But consciously is. I could have multiple lovers of a local variety if I wasn’t picky or if I was willing to forgo some standards, but I’m not. So while I’d like to have someone local – I make my choices very consciously. So there’s nothing sad about a quickie orgasm before I roll over and go to sleep.

I just the think the physical differences are interesting, that’s all. Course, there are also physical differences between having an orgasm with something inside of me, and nothing inside of me, but that’s a different story for a different time /wink.

Comfort From the Flickering Screen

From my first post today, you may notice I’ve been struggling with a couple of things. While I do feel better at least having gotten it out of me and onto paper…err…screen… it was still pretty emotionally exhausting to sort through.

I think everyone has things they go to for comfort. Food used to work for me, but not so much anymore considering the band. I’m not a big drinker. I don’t take drugs, except for maybe a couple of xanax a year. (Yes, I have a prescriptions :p)

So what’s my comfort?

Music. And it’s not just recently. It’s always been that way for me.

Last night, I put “Almost Famous” in the DVD player and watched it. It’s one of my favorite movies of all time. I love the era, the music, and having small crushes on Kate Hudson and Jason Lee doesn’t hurt either. It’s a great story.

Tonight, after spewing emotion and then logging into Warcraft and an aborted raid, I needed another dose of comfort. I started to look through my DVD shelf, and stopped quickly at the yellow cardboard container that houses one of the best doses of musical therapy available to me.

Fleetwood Mac’s The Dance.

God I love Stevie Nicks. Cliché maybe, but she has sung me through some of the most difficult crises anyone should ever have to endure. She’s an ethereal presence, both in person (I saw her a long time ago with Joe Walsh, god what a show that was), and on my flickering TV screen. The biggest cure for me on the entire DVD is Landslide, one of my favorite songs of all time. Screw the Dixie Chicks and screw Smashing Pumpkins. That song belongs in Stevie’s voice only.

Another highlight for me is hearing Silver Springs, the way the song was intended to be sung on the Rumors album.

And then of course, there is – Rhiannon. “…dreams unwind, love’s a state of mind ….”

I feel so much better now *grin

The ABCs of BDSM - D and E

Decorative Bondage – This is fun for what it is, but it’s not something I’m all that interested in unless it’s part of a scene that demands it.

Depilation- remove all body hair – I’ve said this before. I trim above and shave below most of the time. I’ll admit tat if I don’t have a partner, I don’t do much more than trim. I don’t like my male partner’s shaved. Trimmed is good though.

Diaper Play – Ugh. No.

Denim – Okay, it’s true, I love a man in a well fitting pair of jeans. But as a fetish? Nah.

Dilation – No.

Dildo – I own a couple. And? *grin

Domestic Chores – I know there are people that can fetish-ize this, but I’m not one of them. Well unless I’m wearing a french maid’s outfit and there’s sex at the end ….

Double Penetration – I think I covered this pretty thoroughly in the other questionnaire *grin

Dog Training – No thank you.

Edge Play – this used to hold a great deal of interest for me, and I’ll admit to walking the edge a few times in my life when it was wrapped up in a nice little leather bdsm bow, but it’s not something I’m finding myself needing very much. I tend to believe that my desire for it then versus now is that I had so many feelings locked up inside that only got to come out when the scene got very intense. Now days, I let them out as I wish – as you know if you’ve been reading here long.

Electric Play – I have a violet wand around here. It’s been used on me once and I’ve used it a few times. I bought it for the novelty factor, and because I was scared of it. It’s one of those things I should probably Ebay one of these days.

Enemas – I have a curiosity about these, but it’s not something I’d go out of my way to arrange.

Enforced Chastity – For how long? *smirk.

Erotic Humiliation – I wrote this great essay a long time ago about the levels of this: embarrassment, humiliation and degradation. I’m all right up to the last one. And the last one is, to me, more about breaking someone down than sex.

Erotic Pain – Yes please. Again, this is something I’ve discussed so frequently, I think that’s enough of an answer

Examinations-physical || Examinations-medical – Not really interested in this. I spend enough lamenting my own parts, I really don’t know if I want someone else doing it.

Exhibitionism-public ||Exhibitionism-semi public ||Exhibitionism-private – I think there’s a part of me that likes showing off. I don’t have any desire to be naked in public but I am willing to push boundaries occasionally. Maybe push them a little past where I think my boundaries are. Let’s at least say I like the idea of this. *grin

Eye Contact Restrictions – This is tough, have you ever tried it? Ever had an orgasm with your eyes open? Ever been forced to look – or not look at something for extended periods of time? Fun stuff there. It adds a level intensity to something already intense, or it creates a dramatic finish for something maybe otherwise mellow.

Not a Generic Kinda Girl

I am anything but generic.

There are days when I long to be more normal. No, really. If I were normal I'd likely be married (to someone who suited me better than the two I DID marry) and I'd not have to be dealing with all of this "I'm single and dating" crap.

Why do I call it crap? Because frankly, this is all new to me. I mean, I did date. A little. But basically for most of my life I've been a serial monogamist who kind of went from one relationship to the next with varying periods of 'alone time' between them. Anything from 2 weeks to ....well now, 3.5 years.

I often say that I'm thankful for this long period of alone time, and part of me is. I have learned a LOT about myself and the people around me. But it's not all wine and roses there. I've had to look at some cold hard truths about the relationships I've had in the past and I've had to swallow just exactly how devalued I let myself feel. And that's not a habit that's easy to break, even as a person's self-confidence and self-worth raises. I think I'm there though.

I sent home a thought a couple of weeks ago (I have this habit of thinking of something I want to write at work, then just emailing it to myself at home) and I scribbled it into my little notebook, but I've yet to address it because it's something that's actually an issue for me right now. So instead of running from it, maybe what I really ought to do is address it and be done with it.

The thought, very bluntly is I want to fuck someone who wants to fuck ME, not someone who just wants to get laid. I have this huge amount of sexual energy. It comes out in words and actions and thoughts. And frankly, I should be sharing that with someone who wants that from ME - not someone who just generically wants to feel something. This started for me awhile back when I wrote about the difference between casual and nonchalant. There is a big difference for me between a casual relationship, and a relationship in which I do not feel like I’m special – in which I feel like I could be almost anyone and serve the same purpose. Because I am NOT just anyone. I am NOT generic. And I value myself enough to not only know the difference, but embrace it. And I expect anyone who finds his way in between my sheets to embrace it as well. The line between casual and nonchalant has gotten thicker for me recently. And I’m just not in the mindset to compromise on that right now.

I’m not saying casual isn’t okay. Casual is fine. Casual suits me in many ways. But there is a way to have a casual relationship in which both people in the relationship feel valued and special. And if both people aren’t feeling that, then it’s not casual. It’s something else entirely. And feeling depersonalized is certainly not a kink I enjoy exploring on a regular basis.

That’s a good thing to know about myself, and I’m glad that I’ve gotten to the point that I could say it, and mean it. It’s been a little tough for me to do so, because some of these points are very personal right now, and a little bit difficult to address.

But occasionally I need to deal with the difficult stuff. Sex itself is so easy for me to write about. But the emotional and mental stuff behind it is sometimes more difficult. This is one of those times.

Now that it’s done, and behind me, perhaps I can get back to what I do better. *grin

Perfectly fine

Any piece of clothing can be sexy with a quietly passionate woman inside it.
Anonymous

I bought this cheap, olive green thermal-looking shirt the other day at the drug store. It’s very thin – not build for warmth at all. I figured it’d be a good weekend shirt and for six bucks, I couldn’t pass it up.

So I put it on Saturday, Saturday being the weekend and all. And as it turns out, this shirt fits me perfectly. So perfectly in fact that it makes me look like I weight 15 pounds less than I do in a different shirt. So perfectly that I looked in the mirror a good two minutes – something I rarely do – and suddenly all of the rules from all of those makeover shows I sit here and watch came back to me.

Then I smiled.

A stupid, cheap shirt in a weird color – and it made me feel so incredibly good – and sexy. My hair looked good, my new glasses make my face look less round and it just was a picture perfect moment.

I’ll admit it. I’ve been obsessing about the ‘repair work’ lately. It’s like I have nearly everything else done, especially the glasses and the hair - and being just almost there….so close, but not quite.

But how much does that matter, really? Isn’t the fact that I looked good in the mirror in the crappy little shirt enough for me? Why all of the sudden do I feel so fucking greedy for wanting more than I have? I mean, the fact that I got a second chance for myself with the weightloss… that I have a good enough job that I can walk in and drop 450.00 on a pair of stylish glasses and how much ever it takes to get my hair cut/styled and highlighted… why can’t I be satisfied with that? Has my inner perfectionist gotten so loud that she’s starting to drown out the rest of me?

Maybe.

But she needs to shut the hell up because honestly --- for 43 years old, I look pretty goddamn good. What’s more is the confidence behind that smile on my face, and how much that radiates outward and makes me more attractive and dare I say it – sexier.

It’s my own attitude that decides every morning whether I feel good when I walk out that door and go to the office. It’s my own outlook that decides if the curls make it a good hair day or a bad hair day. And it’s the sincerity of my smile in the mirror that decides every day if I’m a sexy bitch, or just a lady in waiting to be perfect.

Screw perfect. Surgery will come in time. But what I have now is nothing to sneeze at. And it’s time I quit using it as an excuse to wait for my real life to start.

Pictures speak a thousand words?

I don't know if that's true or not, but the smile on my face is genuine. I love the new haircut and the new glasses. I'm feeling pretty good about now :)