In Action

So I'm flipping channels tonight, and I come across the E TV True Hollywood Story about Jenna Jameson. I was trying to decide if I'd seen it before ....

Then, Tammy Bruce's uptight ass comes on my screen.  And I remember that yes.  I had seen this. 

I am even less impressed with Bruce than I was 6 years ago.

But never mind that.  I've already written about that.

It got me thinking about how much of an activist I used to be.  Pro-choice issues, sex worker issues, pornography issues,  women's rights and feminism.  I was the president of my local chapter of NOW for 2 years in Illinois.  I volunteered at a family planning clinic that performed abortions.  I am still a member of NARAL.  These issues remain important to me, but I no longer actively participate in their support.

Maybe I should.  Maybe not to the extent that I used to be, but maybe a little more than writing checks like I do now.

Any action -- even writing checks -- is better than nothing.

But I strive to be better than better than nothing.

I am not the exception....

..........I am the rule.

I am a unique person. But  I am not any more special than anyone else.
I am basically a happy person, but I have been increasingly angry (with myself, I think) lately.
I am grateful for what I have, but I long for more.
I am...not that different from most people.
But.

There isn't anyone else like me.  I am mostly optimistic, silly, smart and sexy.  I'm affectionate but independent.  I am a great friend, an exceptional daughter, a hard-working employee, an always-interesting fuck, and an incredible catch for the right guy.

I am me. 

Exception, rule, unique, special -- everything and nothing.

And I am pretty all right with that.

Shot Skirts #14

No.  Stay right there.  That chair? That's for you to sit in. 

You always seem to enjoy those scenes in porn movies where the girl plays with herself. I'm going to give you the live version.  I hope you're ready.

Does the red on my nails contrast well with the black tops of the thigh high hose and my pale skin?  How does it look against the pink inside my cunt? Shiny nails against shiny lips....see how swollen and wet they are?  Yes, I do like you watching me.  I like it that you're having trouble sitting still. Look how swollen my clit is. 

No, don't get up.  This is my game.  You play by my rules.  Sit on your hands if you have to.  Better yet, pull your cock out and play along.

I like you watching me play.  I want you to see me cum without being distracted by making it happen.  Can you see well enough?  Can you see the muscles in my legs tense?  You know that means I'm close ....

No.  Don't get up.  Please... I'm going to....stay there.....


~ there is a pause for a quick hard orgasm and then ~

...you got up. 

Now you owe me something.

Go back to your chair.  It's your turn to show me.

Short Skirts #13

Don't make me beg. I want you fucking me. I want you fucking me right now.

Yes, I know you l you like it when I beg.  You like it when I ask for more and more and more. You like it when you change my mind mid-stream.  You like it when I say no, but you know I don't mean it.

But I don't want to beg now.  I don't want to have to ask.  I want you to give me what you know I want.

And you know what I want.

I will beg, if I have to.  But don't make me.  Please don't make me...

Fuck me like you mean it.  And make me believe it.

And when you think I've had enough, make me believe it again.

Energy

I poured 60 votive candles today.  I haven't done that, I don't think, since I moved over to Sun Prairie 3 years ago. I've poured tarts and maybe a couple pillars and containers, but no votives. Of all the types, votives are the most time consuming, and take the most precision.  They're awesome, but they're a lot of work.

I'm using up scents from the ADC days (when I had my business).  Some of them were still good, and rather than waste them, I am going to pour them up and put them in my give-away at work, like I did with my soap earlier this year.   There are a couple batches of said soap I intend to do as well soon, but one major project per weekend, please :)

I buy candles (well, before I started making them again), and I do burn them when I think to light them.  I love the flickering light, the scent, the ambiance they create in a room.  They speak to my sensual, romantic side -- which is a side that's always at the surface, but rarely gets to come out and play.  I miss her.  She's a shitload of fun.

All this creative stuff is therapeutic for me. It burns off energy that I build up that I can't burn off in other ways.  I'm lucky that I have ways to do that, and I'm grateful for it.  Writing used to be my biggest outlet, but I don't seem to write as much as I'd like to.  Although, I have blogged a LOT for me this month, and I'm grateful I've been able to do that, too. 

I'm in the mood for .....

I want this shirt.

And I want these, too.

I am in the mood today for what they advertise. I'm not sure why, but I am. 

I need to feel something.  This is as good as anything else, right? Nice solid spanking followed by a nice sound fucking?  Hell, yes.  Order me up two of those.

Short Skirts #12

It's so hot outside.

I know we're supposed to go out tonight but wouldn't you rather just stay home and strip down in front of the AC?

I know you're hungry.  I'm hungry, too.  But wouldn't you rather be home and cool than standing around waiting for our table? Having a nice cool drink and enjoying nice cool food in a nice cool house?  We could have a picnic in the living room and put in a sexy movie.

Still not convinced?

What's it going to take to convince you?

Really? That's it? Cancel the reservations and order a pizza. I'm going to hang up my dress and put on something much less appropriate. We're going to eat naked, watch porn, and take advantage of the air conditioner. 

Maybe later, we'll turn it up and get the ice out ......

Short Skirts #11

Now, how did that door get open?

I was so happy that you agreed to come shopping with me so I could buy something nice to wear for you and now the surprise is ruined. 

Do you like them?  Do you want a closer look?  Come in, quick, before anyone sees you.  And close that pesky door.

So now tell me.  Do you like them?  This is the first pair you picked. 

Is that going to help you decide if you like them?  Slipping your hand inside them and grabbing my ass?  Doesn't matter... your hand feels so good. 

Ohh...that's even better but I'm not sure what that has to do with telling me if you like them or not.  If you make me wet while I'm wearing these, you know I'm going to have to buy them....

Putting my hand on your cock is not helping.... you do like them, right? Because if you keep stroking my cunt lips with your finger, I'm going to have to...I'm... I'll have to....

Oh that's not fair.  Stopping so close is not fair. What are you... oh...yes, I guess they are as good as sold, aren't they?  Take the tag, yes.  I'll be along shortly.... once my heart slows down..

One more question before you open the door...

Did you like them enough to fuck me in the when we get home?

Nourishment

The TV is off.  I am not in the mood.

I updated iTunes on the laptop.  I need music. Headphones into the laptop.  Loud.  Good.

I have always had a very strong connection to music.  I played in all possible band configurations in high school and even wrote a little music.  I used to sing.  Lyrics will make or break a song for me; even if I like the music, if the lyrics suck, I probably won't buy the song.  But if I can't stand the music, the lyrics won't get listened to. I am fond of many kinds of music, from 60's Motown to 70's rock and sappy ballads, 80's hairbands, 90's alternative and even some of today's stuff.  I enjoy some New Age music, a select few country songs, and some odd stuff here and there.

Music is entertainment.  Therapy.  Relaxation or invigoration, whichever is needed.  It sets a mood.  It fixes a mood.  It lays groundwork.  It breaks up previously laid groundwork.



Music is breath.
And if music *is breath, then books are food.

I spent my lunch hour today doing what I love: browsing a used book store for bargains.  I took in 2 bags of library inappropriate reading material and turned them into (with 12.00) another full bag of books.  Some library appropriate, some not *smirk.

Every day, I take care of myself and my house and my job and my car and my cat and my family and my finances and my friends.

Today, I am taking care of my soul.

Short Skirts #10

I'm sorry ... I tried to wait up for you.  I had such a nice surprise planned.  I thought about it all night while you were out with your friends, and tried to come up with the perfect outfit to wear...and now I've slept in it and it's ...

Ohhh....that feels nice.  So the outfit is still all right? And you're not disappointed that I ... oh...don't stop...god that feels good.  Are you sure you're not disappointed that I fell asleep....ohhhh...your hands are so warm and..

At this point, he finds himself impatient with her drowsy carrying-on, and he kisses her while he removes his cock and then finds another use for her mouth.


No, he's not disappointed. Finding a scantily-clad, sex-ready woman asleep in his bed with her nearly bare ass the first thing he saw when he entered the room?  Disappointed?  No.  He's anything but disappointed.

Today's Lesson

You can't get upset at someone for behaving in such a way that you've previously allowed them to behave.

Well, you can.

But it's pointless and confusing.

Short Shorts #9

I'm sorry. You don't look happy.  Or are you in shock?

Was I supposed to put on more under the coat?  You didn't specify that when you asked me to come pick you up at the office this late.  You just asked me to come get you and we'd grab something to eat.

I have something for you to eat.  And I know you have something for me.   I know your office door locks.  Why can't we eat here first?

I promise I'll get you a burger on the way home.  Consider me an appetizer.  I promise you'll be even hungrier before we're done.

Learning to Walk Again

One byproduct of me having been as overweight as I was, and spending several years with a man who was shorter than I was, and then spending the following 5 years by myself is that I have to re-learn how to walk in real heels again.

I have a pair of 2" pumps, which I find very easy to walk in.

I have a pair of 3" heels but they're a wider heel, not like the heels to the left.  They're black and t-strap and sexy as hell, but they're not spiky-heels.

I have a pair of 4" heel ankle boots that I haven't worn since I lived in California, because they're bright red and frankly not all that appropriate in most situations.

So I ordered myself a pair of 3" skinny heeled pumps to get used to. When I can run in those, I'm going to get a pair of 4", similar to the ones above.

It's a whole different world walking in them now, as opposed to before I lost the weight.  While I'm still not the most graceful swan in the pond, a lot of the balance issues I've had in the past are gone.

As are the self-conscious issues I've always had about my height and wearing heels.  At 5'9", putting on 3" heels makes me 6', and if you add my former weight self-consciousness into that, you get way more than one person can comfortably deal with.  I don't know that I feel that way anymore.  I mean, I was gifted with these incredibly long legs.  Why not show them off rather than hide them in flats?

Instead of them making me self-conscious now, I'm pretty sure they're going to go miles in building self-confidence.

I need feel that way more often.  I certainly feel that way right now.

I'm going to find myself a sweet little pair of shiny black 2" pumps (the ones I have are off-white..ick) to wear to work once in awhile before the ice starts falling from the sky.  I think it would do wonders for my self-confidence.

At the very least, it's going to make my ass look hot in my jeans.

Unexpected Places

So, last time I took a big ol' pile of "library inappropriate" material to Half Price Books I picked up this book How To Set His Thighs On Fire, thinking I was going to get a book jam packed with writing ideas (What, you think every inspiration for a post comes from my own experiences?  lol no.  Some, yes.  Many, yes.  All, no.)  .

What I got was something very different.

In amongst the Cosmo-inspired chapters about sex are several that are more that are about your work life, your personal life, your family life, your friends... It was a perfect book for those "in the car sneaking a smoke at work" moments, and Kate has a very clear writing style that makes her very easy to read.  I didn't agree with all of it, but I did enjoy most of it.

One of the chapters in the book, toward the end, really made me think.

She says (And the book isn't right here, so I'm not quoting) that sometimes you have to stop and ask yourself "What's missing?" when it comes to making goals and life decisions. She goes on to say, in a later chapter about solving problems and coming up with ideas, that sometimes you just have to pose your problem in the form of a question and take it out into the world to look for the solution. 

I like that idea, and I'm definitely going to give it a try where my writing is concerned.

As far as the "What's Missing?" question goes, it's a question I've asked myself quite often in the last year, but I think I've been ignoring the response from the universe.  I think I'm going to have to pose the question again when my mind is mellow and I can sit quietly without needing to be distracted.  It's been awhile since I could do that.

You just never know what you're going to get and where it's going to come from.  I was looking for sex ideas, and I got life ideas instead.  This is not to say she didn't mention sex at all -- she did.  But unfortunately, I didn't pick up anything new, nor was I inspired to write in that vein.

I wonder if I went and picked up a self-help book, I could get some sex ideas.  Cause honestly, I'm a little stalled there *smirk.

Whoever she is

The L Word season 6 comes out on DVD next month.  So I ordered Season 5 from Netflix.  Today, because I am feeling the need to get lost in something, and I didn't think 1 disk of Season 5 was going to provide the depth and breadth of 'lost' I currently feel that I need, I went upstairs and dug Season 4 out of mothballs and decided to spend the rest of my day watching these gorgeous (but occasionally fucked up) women tear through life's little problems.

They played a montage of Season 3 before it started and as is my usual these days, one line jumped out of the speakers and right into my head:

Jenny (a lesbian), to Max (a woman transitioning to a man):

When you get the body you want, who's going to live inside it?

First of all, before I address that, I want to say this: It may sound as if the last several posts I've written about myself and my relationships, that I am angry with the men I've been with in my life.  For the most part, with the exception of my almost-ex, that's not true.  I'm much much more angry with myself, my behavior, my beliefs and my issues.  It started as a mild irritation and has over the last few weeks, grown into what I hope is a healthy dose of anger.

When they psychic said that I had a life changing event 3-6 years ago (which is my separation), she was right.  My life has changed significantly in that time.  To the point that right now, if I weren't feeling a little deja vu in one area, I'd swear that I bore little resemblance to that girl who drove out of Virginia 5 years ago next month. 

But those occasional bouts of negative deja vu keep reminding me.  A good thing? A bad thing? I dunno.

Oh don't get me wrong.  There are pieces of me that are inherently part of me, and will likely never change: my sarcasm, my wit, my intelligence, my sexual curiosity and interest. 

But other parts of me have changed in some pretty drastic ways, so when I heard the quote above, it echoed around in my brain like someone had hit a gong.

Who *is* going to be living inside me -- if and when -- I get the body I want?  How much of the physical is going to -- or, already *has -- changed the emotional/mental? (I could conceivably make a joke about how downsizing from a mansion to a condo and why that means having to clean house and let go of things but honestly it sounds cliche, no matter how true it might be)

Whoever she is, I hope I like her.

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?

Interlude #4

She's so trusting....

Look how she sits there, not fidgeting, not impatient, her hands on the bed, just waiting.

And what are you doing, while she sits there so nicely?

Are you watching her...waiting for her to break? Are you planning your next move? Are you making plans for her pigtails? Are you touching yourself? Do you want to be?

You can almost hear her whimper, the longer she sits there, can't you? She's been so good... isn't it time to reward her for her patience? Maybe just a little kiss, so she knows you are still there ....

Or are you too busy staring at that little patch of exposed skin between her short skirt and her thigh high hose? Can you smell her in the air? Hear her breathing through her now parted, waiting lips?

She's so trusting...and she's waiting patiently for you ...

Not very clear

So, in this post, I wrote the following:

Maybe for once I want to be the center of attention; the one who gets fallen for; the one someone pines for, misses, wants more than 'just until something better comes along'.

I was feeling a little down when I wrote that, to begin with. I refuse to edit it though because that's how I felt at that time. And frankly, part of it is very true, and something that I have indeed been tired of.

I haven't held back about discussing most of the relationships I've had in the last several years. Most of them dysfunctional, and the ones that weren't ended badly because they began badly for the wrong reasons. Compound this with having been recently told that my most recent ex was "only with me until something better came along" (To be fair, in his case, I apparently do not have all of the requisite equipment that he's looking for....). I laughed it off, because frankly, he's been 'single' since we split (so his 'better' is his hand *snicker), but it stung.

And that's not the first time in my life I've heard that, either.

But I don't really want to talk about relationships. I'm tired of talking about my past relationships.

What I want to talk about is the relationships I don't have, nor have I ever really had.

I am a smart girl.
I am a pretty girl, some would even say sexy... *grin
I am silly and funny and witty.

And yet, I can't ever remember anyone ever pining for me, falling for me (before I made it apparent that I was already falling for them). (Wait, let me clarify that by saying anyone who was within 20 years of age of me *chuckle*) I'm just not that girl, I guess.

And that's not the only kinda girl I'm not .....

I've been trying to write this post for 3 days. I have notes. I've had this post sitting in Firefox, half written. I can't believe I'm struggling with this so much. That frustrates me. And it's not helping me finish...

I have a couple of friends -- current and past friends -- who just seemed to have this knack for having all (or a lot anyway) of the boys flocking to them. They are center of attention people. They know how to talk to everyone, make everyone feel comfortable, even gets the boys to fall for her, rather she really wants them to or not. All of the guys flirt with her, dote on her, speak kindly and gently to her.

This is not me. That has never been me.

But I gotta wonder what it would feel like to have that - to be that.

These women aren't any smarter than me. They aren't necessarily prettier or sexier. They have confidence, but so do I.

But maybe I am just not that girl. I never thought base charisma was a problem for me, but maybe it is. I do flirt subtly. But maybe I'm just too subtle.

This all feels very disjointed to write, but if I don't get it all out here, I'm just going to keep staring at this page ...

I'm not sure there's anything I can really do about this, or at least, anything I'd be willing to do about it. If I am not that kind of girl that guys just fall for like that. I am the comfortable girl, the good girl, the girl that gets them through their issues and makes them feel better about themselves...I am, as I have said on many occasions...the catalyst in their lives.

I'm not content with that. And I think maybe that's part of why I feel stuck.

Because I don't get it.

I'm not happy with this post, but I'm not going to edit it. Maybe I'll read it a couple hundred times, and it'll clarify for me. If it does, I'll post a follow up.

If it doesn't...well, let's blame it on too much coffee and leave it with that.

Interlude #3

I want to seduce you.



I want you to know what I want just by looking at me, but I want you to wait until I tell you by actions and words.



I want you to let me tease you, tempt you, put you on the edge of your chair...or the bed...whichever...*smirk



And then when you've had enough, I want you to show me what you want. Don't give me options, just show me.

Seduction complete.

And we both got exactly what we wanted *grin

Interlude #2

You want to do what I tell you to, don't you?

You want to watch me walk toward you in this little number and a pair of high heels, garter belt and hose... you want to go straight down to your knees when I put my hand on your shoulder without me having to push too hard, don't you?

You want to make me whimper in pleasure and then you want to stroke your cock for me while I watch.

Don't you?

This picture inspires me to do that.

What does it inspire in you?

Interlude #1

Ain't that the truth.....

If I tell you I've been a very bad girl, can I have one?

Spankings are almost 100% always sexual for me. But even when they aren't, they have a sexual component to them.

So if you do spank me, be prepared for the onslaught of me wanting to fuck.

You will want to fuck me after though. I promise

/grin

Cheating?

I know there are things that I can do to make myself look and feel better, rather than waiting around to be thinner to re-start my 'real life'.

This (to the left) is one of them.

Why don't I do this?

It feels like cheating.

I realize...I do... that for every day -- to work, other places, wearing stuff like this would hold the extra skin closer to my body and make my clothes fit much better. The logical side of myself gets it.

But the emotional side of myself says ...now, wait a minute. What if I meet someone? It's not so much that these aren't my typical kind of panties (not nearly sexy enough for me), but that it feels like someone would be attracted to me with these on, but if it got to the point where my clothes came off, would they be disappointed?

And yes, I do realize that if they are, they aren't worth my time either but that's not really the point for me here.

The point is that it feels like cheating.

I don't want to feel that way. I want to feel better in my clothes and in this body. I'm not sure how to get over that.

I can usually talk myself out of (or into) almost anything but I have been struggling with this one for quite some time, and I can't seem to make it happen. Because again, logically, I do get it. But emotionally, I can't seem to get there.

I have to wonder if I'm still fighting the "I'm still fat/I don't deserve to look that nice" demon that I thought was mostly silenced (all except that fat chick in the mirror...I can't seem to shut her up for more than one day at a time).

I am putting ordering a pair of these on my 'shopping' list, and I'm just going to have to do it, and see how it works out. Typically, if I can't talk myself into something, I can force it, and get past it.

And y'all know how I do enjoy a little bit of force now and then .....

The good, the bad, and the ugly

The good: I've cut my calories to about 1200 a day for the last couple of weeks, and I'm actually starting to feel hungry again.

The bad: Work has been ungodly stressful for the last couple of weeks

The ugly: I'm smoking too much the last week because of the stress.

The plan: Cut the smokes back again, keep the diet going (except for the fact that I'm making a home-made pizza this weekend and eating it if I can), and I'm trying to keep reminding myself to take deep breaths at work.

The weekend: Write! Drink the perfect margarita (or two, or three)! Do some home projects! Write some more!

Another Quote

Another quote from Californication that I wrote down... I don't have a post about this. I think it's just a very succinct statement that stands on it's own.

"I love you. I didn't say it to hear it back."

Ahhh... if only it were always that easy.