Movie Night

Considering the post I just wrote, and that there is NOTHING on TV tonight, I ordered "He's Just Not That Into You" off of pay-per-view. I love Ginnifer Goodwin, and I did read this book when it first came out, so I figured maybe it'd make me laugh (it has) and smile (it has) .

Pearls of Wisdom, and snickers:

If a guy is treating you like he doesn't give a shit, he genuinely doesn't give a shit. No exceptions.

Him: "Did you just say dry hump?"
Her: "Yea."
Him: "I think I just fell in love."

"So, what, I'm just supposed to run from every guy who doesn't like me?"
"Well, yea."
"There isn't going to be anybody left."

"Guys invented the spark so they didn't have to call. They can treat you kinda bad, and keep you guessing ... and they convince you that, that anxiety and that fear that just develops naturally is actually just a spark. "

Sometimes, the truth is much funnier than fiction.

Let's Define Open, Shall We?

I'm pretty open. I don't hold a lot back when I'm talking about sex, my family, my job. I go to my friends with an open heart and am rewarded time after time for it.

I have said repeatedly, and I believed whole-heartedly that I have kept my heart open as far as more serious kind of relationships are concerned.

And I still believe it. But I don't think the definition of it is the same right now.

It's no secret that my last serious relationship ended because my ex wanted out. He wanted to lose his responsibilities (including me) , and as much as I tried to make it better, it ended badly. It's all right though, that part -- I'm over.

But that relationship was just one in a line of relationships that ended unfavorably, and to be honest, my soul is pretty bruised up still now. I'm sure that's why I haven't worked very hard at meeting new people, men included.

I am open to meeting someone, but I am not very willing to put myself out there first. I have avoided that purposefully. So while I am open, it seems to be entry only. I can think of only two times I've attempted to put myself out there in the last 5 years and neither experience ended the way I'd have liked it to. I'd like to say that it hasn't affected me, and that I continue to strive to be open in both directions, but I'm not sure that's the case.

Okay, I'm trying to strive.

Now, keeping in mind that I am emotionally driven person, I am also a logic driven person. It's a constant battle in my head most of the time, and I find that if I do not react to something almost immediately in an emotional way, I likely won't do it at all. Logic will take over. Logic will win. Most of the time.

Obviously, all of this affects my sex life. I'd likely be having a lot more of it if I were more willing to step outside of my safe little corral here. I have always said that for sex to mean something to me, it has to be with someone that I have a rapport with; a friendship, a flirtation, something. I used to make those kinds of connections easily, but anymore, I find myself a lot more cautious than I used to be. Occasionally, I am reminded why... but mostly it's because I don't try.

Part of the reason I have started writing again is because since I haven't been, I've kept so much locked up. I need to let it out, discuss it, lament it --- so that I can move onto the next thing and start fixing some of these little annoyances and get ON with it.

4 Lessons I Have Learned in Jill 101 this week

I have unrealistic expectations in almost every area of my life.

I spend more time looking backward than forward, which would explain some of the larger bruises on my soul.

I am just as afraid of looking like a fool as I am of failure.

Coffee is a cure-all for almost anything that ails me.

Mirrors Suck

So, it took me about a year to lose 10 pounds. Maybe 15. I honestly don't know. I put the scale away last November and I've only had it out once since then. I spent way too much energy trying to please a piece of electronic gadgetry and it had to come to and end. I know depend more on my clothes and how I feel to know how I'm doing.

But even with all that, I still don't see things accurately in the mirror. I still feel much bigger than I (apparently) am. It affects my sense of self some days. Some days are better than others.

I mentioned to a friend of mine the other day that I had considered going to get another fill in the band. He gently (well, maybe not so gently) pointed out to me that a fill isn't probably going to help me anymore because I am already limiting my calorie intake every day. He's right of course (and will be smirking to read that, I'm sure) but I am frustrated because I'm not losing weight anymore, and I still feel, on most days, like I need to.

Self-perception has never been my strong suit. 4 years ago, before I was banded, I would have been absolutely thrilled to be at the weight I am now. But now that I'm here, I feel like I want to lose some more before I'm really finished.

Still, all in all, I notice little things that do give me more boosts. I am much more comfortable in some of my clothes (especially things that are a little sexier, or lingerie. Even some of my panties fit now like they should, rather than 'they fit').

And all of that goes a long way to making me feel sexier, and building confidence. I am, most assuredly, better than I was, even six months ago. But there is more room for growth (emotionally only please!) and I am always striving for more and better.

Feeling sexy is important to me. Considering my fascination with all things sexual, this makes sense. Sexy is not all physical. Sexy is also mental, and emotional and as I express myself in different ways, I feel the mental parts of me getting more in tune with the physical.

I feel that I have made huge strides in these areas. But again, the mirror lies to me on most days. It is good to hear from people that are not my family, that I am not as big as my mind thinks I am. It cannot cure me, but it does help, because it forces me to *look*.

I like to look.
Do you?

There was a time ....

There was a time when a smell -- a word -- a thought -- the way someone looked at me -- or something I caught out of the corner of my eye would spark a sexual fantasy. I would roll that one piece of information around in my head until it started to have a life of it's own, and then I would allow myself to build elaborate sexual scenes around it. And then I would make a note of it, and when I had time to write, I would write a piece of erotica, all based on that one piece of information. I once wrote a 22 page fantasy all from my perception of what I thought a friend of mine from online would wear. My mind was wide open in that time.

I miss that time. I'm working to let myself get back to that time.

As I said the other day, other things have taken precedence in my life lately. Work, mostly. Gaming some. Wallowing in my own sense of indifference as far as most of my life is concerned. (I hate admitting that. I almost didn't.)

I'm trying to get my life simplified and organized. I'm giving stuff away and trying to decide what I have that I *need* and what I have *just to have it*. I'm trying to do that with all areas of my life.

Now that I've started to strip things away, I'm hoping to have more room for my imagination to roam in. I'm taking down fences that I've put up over the last few years. I don't build walls, typically. I build fences. Fences can be jumped, if someone is motivated enough. I've tried to walk through walls. It hurts.

And yes, I do realize that I just spent two posts waxing not-so-poetically about what my allowing myself to get back to writing erotica may or may not have meant to past, present or future relationships.

But here's the thing: This is who I am. I may not be Screamer anymore and I may not be a Mrs and I may not be little miss fucking perfect, but I am a writer and I need to write.

I have to wonder if my desire to write fantasy (not sexual fantasy....fantasy as in Sci-Fi/Fantasy) subconsciously but a hold on the erotica. Maybe I didn't think I could do both. Maybe I thought to be taken seriously as a writer I had to write other things. Maybe a part of me still does.

But taken seriously or not, I'm not going to turn my back on a genre that has allowed me such creative freedom; allowed me to publish an entire book of poetry and numerous fiction stories and non-fiction articles in magazines; allowed me a certain amount of notoriety in a community filled with notable people. Especially when that genre is where I feel at home.

I still want to write fantasy. And I will.

But if I did indeed shut out erotica in favor of something else (and I'm not sure I did, just possible), it was the wrong approach if my aim was to Keep writing. Because I did not keep writing. I parked my ass in the living room and watched TV. This is not the way to write.

And now, if you'll excuse me, it's time to do some brainstorming and let my imagination run again.

And another thing....

There was another thing that came out of the conversation mentioned in the previous post. I was talking about how I think my in-your-face sexuality has impacted my past relationships, and as I was typing, it occurred to me that there may be yet another side effect.

Can being the "sexy" girl or the "fun girl" preclude me being THE girl? Does it keep me from being taken seriously as someone to have an important relationship with? Do people get to know me "as the chick who loves sex" and then stop looking any deeper? Fun for awhile but not for a long term thing? Is it perceived, since it's so up front with me, that that's all I am or all I want?

I'm pretty sure that it's not. But it did cross my mind and it definitely was worth exploring for a short time.

I think I'm done, though. I would never speak ill of being called fun or sexy. These are traits I am happy to wear the title of. And if someone looks at me, and all they see is sex, then it's their eyes that need adjusted, not my sexy, fun attitude ~

And just to prove my point, here's a gratuitous, pointless but sexy and fun picture

This is just how I roll.

Too Much of a Good Thing...maybe

Even though I haven't been writing much lately, I have been thinking. I am always thinking. Sometimes, it would be nice to be able to shut that off, but since that's not going to happen anytime soon, I have learned to embrace my thoughtfulness.

It occurred to me awhile back to think about how I affect the people around me. If you've read anything in this blog, you'll know that I am very interested in sex -- they psychological, the physical, the emotional -- I read it. I talk it. I write it. I do it (well, I do it with someone else when I can *grin*). I recently sorted through my books, and pulled out all of the ones that I won't read again to give away (all of the library appropriate books will go to the library up by my folks and the non-library appropriate ones will go to the used bookstore...), and almost half of those books that will be leaving my home are about sex. Some fiction, a LOT of non-fiction. But that's a lot of books. The subjects are varied...but probably half of those going away are about BDSM books that I have been collecting for many, many years.

Anyway.

I do have a deep-seated interested in all things sexual and I wondered to a friend yesterday if that was perhaps intimidating to other people that I may be sleeping with. As he *is* someone that I've slept with, he had his own answer for this: Sometimes.

I'll admit that it stung. Not because I didn't expect it, because I did. But because knowing it was true was different.

My obsession with all things sexual started a very long time ago. In high school, I think, when I ran across a copy of the book Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex (But Were Afraid to Ask) by David Reuben



This book fascinated me. (Actually, having written that, I just ordered a used copy of the revised edition from 1999 from Amazon). At 16, having grown up in a very Catholic family in a family small town in a Midwestern state, this book discussed things that not only had I not HEARD of, but that someone tweaked me in such a way that I started masturbating even more than I had been before that, and my fantasy life suddenly came to life.








From there, it just grew. One couple I babysat for had a copy of The Joy of Sex. While the drawings in the book were odd to me, the information contained inside those covers continued my fascination. Fed me. Propelled me to look for more to look for more...and more ... and more....

Other people I babysat for had actual porn novels. And Frederick's catalogs from when the pictures were mostly drawn, not photographed (they were old catalogs).

It hasn't really stopped. Ever. I guess you could say I never really settled down.

All of this writing about sex and talking about sex certainly was never intended to make anyone feel intimidated...not even a little. I guess I can understand it though. The same friend and I play an online game together. He is considerably better at many things in that game than I am, and I often feel intimidated when trying something new with him around me.

But it still bothers me that indeed - my captivation with sex may have caused issues in my past relationships, too.

I think that my past, having participated heavily in the BDSM community for a number of years and having been published many times in that genre also intimidates potential playmates. That bothers me, too.

But to be honest, these are not things I can change. Could I hide my interest in all things sex and kink, and pretend to be a shy, vanilla girl? Sure. But how long do you think that would really last? And it's dishonest. It doesn't work. It will never work.

I am okay with who I am in this.

And I'm pretty sure that it's never ended a relationship that didn't need to be over, nor do I think it has prevented a relationship that was meant to be. But it does give me pause, and makes me wonder if I don't need to tone it down a little bit until people get to know me VERY well.

Where the Links Lead You...

While looking for links to include in this post, I followed a couple of links that led me to interesting places.




This DVD caught my eye firstly, and I've bookmarked a site to order it from. I love educational sex videos. Whether they are campy or truly educational, I find them immensely entertaining. And isn't that what porn is supposed to be? Entertaining? Okay, okay...it's supposed to be other things too... *smirk* But y'all know my interest in rough sex (more on that later), so this one really caught my eye. Hopefully it won't be disappointing.

But I also came across this site , and in particular this link . I'm pretty sure "rough" in the title of this particular article does not refer to rough the way I was searching for, but more as in "not streamlined". That's fine. It was an interesting read anyway.

This line, in particular, caught my attention: "So if our secret fantasies are not mental rehearsals for something that we actually plan to do, what on earth are they, and what are they saying about ourselves?"

Quite right, "Even Happier", quite right.

There are many fantasies I have had throughout the years that I have absolutely NO desire to act out outside of my dirty little mind. Some, I don't even share with other people -- not because I'm ashamed, but because I do not want to have them misconstrued -- as in "she wants to do WHAT?"

What happens in "Jill's Mind" should sometimes stay in "Jill's Mind".

Yours, too. It's all right. Really it is.

For some reason, men seem to have a harder time sharing their sexual fantasies (this is my experience...it's all I got ya know) with the women they are sexual with. I don't know if it's because they don't want to make us insecure, or if they, too, want to keep them as masturbatory fodder rather than take a chance on them actually being brought to fruition. Or maybe other reasons. But if you say to me "I have no sexual fantasies" have no doubt...I *am* going to call you a liar.

I can't speak for all women, but I can say that I do like to hear about the fantasies of my sex partner. Please feel free to preface it with "I don't want to do this in real life but the thought of ..... makes me cum so fast when I jack off..." and know that I will listen and take you seriously. If you don't say that...well, maybe I will see about trying to make it come true *smirk*

Back to the quote...yes, I did get off track. Did you miss me? lol

"what are they saying about ourselves"

They're saying we like sex. They're saying that maybe there are parts of us still unexplored that should be explored. They're saying that we are healthy of mind, because we want sex and we want to enjoy sex -- and in our minds, at least, we know that sex is not bad.

I honestly believe that unless you are fantasizing about sex with people or animals that cannot consent to having sex with you (which do fall under the "I don't really want to do this" section...right? RIGHT?) --- or unless you are fantasizing about causing harm to another person or yourself (not hurt. harm. hurt can be fun...), whatever lives in your mind is fine. I think we judge ourselves much more harshly than the normal every day red-blooded human being would judge us.

We honestly need to cut ourselves some slack.

I have scissors.....

Letting go of what was

I gave up thescreamergirl.com last year. Just let it go. It was sad for me, in a way, but in all honesty, the website had a great run and had it's run at popularity and fun.

I don't think of myself as The Screamer Girl anymore. She was me, 100%, but I haven't participated in the BDSM community for many years. No conferences, no local groups, no active writing and teaching. I get a hankering for it once in awhile, and I still have a very active interest and fantasy life in BDSM but I don't do much as far as participation anymore. Some days I'm fine with that. On a rare day, I'm not. I don't think I'll ever be Screamer again. But having it - the d/s part anyway - in my life on an occasional basis would be very good for me.

In the last six months, I've written no erotica. My mind has been occupied with many other things. Gaming, work...work has gotten much busier and stressful... my grandmother passed away.... trying to get divorced (well, I would be if I could find the other party in the case ...). Most of my attention been focused decidedly OFF the areas of my brain that drive my sexual imagination, and besides a few very nice days with a friend who pushes the right buttons, it's been off the physical side of my sexuality as well.

*sigh* I miss it. I am hoping that starting to write here --- to express myself in this manner --- to think about sex, talk about sex --- will fire me back up. Actually, it already sort of has.

A dirty mind is a terrible thing to waste (god, I'm quoting tshirts now ...).

I'm tired of wasting mine.

Educational yet Fun

I fired up my Netflix account again recently. TV is less and less appealing to me lately so I've been surfing the Netflix site looking for things that interest me.

In addition to "The L Word" and "Big Love" and such, I surfed through the documentary section and came across this little gem:



Inside Deep Throat

I got it, mostly out of a sense of curiosity, but I ended up really enjoying it. In addition to the legal battles "Deep Throat" had to go through, there was quite a bit of information about the "Sexual Revolution" of the 70's, which is a subject I always enjoy hearing about. There was an endearing elderly woman, speaking to a news camera (clip inside the movie) and she said "I liked it. I wanted to see
a dirty picture and that's what I saw. But I want the right to see that picture.
I don't want somebody telling me that I can't see a dirty picture." I loved that quote.

The director of the movie (which I actually did see, many many years ago) says that he was hoping at some point the XRated movie industry and the regular movie industry would merge and work together.

Yea, that'll never happen. It's a nice dream, and let's face it -- it would be good in some ways if sex were more accessible to more people without having to hide or go to 'the wrong side of town' to find movies (or, I guess now...it's mostly on the internet huh..).

But in other ways? It'll never happen because the porn industry will not let it happen. Are you kidding? A very big part of the appeal of pornography is that it's dirty and forbidden. If it were mainstream, the participants would not make near the money that they do, nor would they have the notoriety that they do. They'd be forced to have plotlines. And just like every thing else, regulation would kick in, and it the good porn would only be available - again - in a dirty and forbidden place.

It's a nice ideal to have though -- to want people to feel the freedom that *you* want to feel where your sexuality is concerned. I know that while I feel a great deal of freedom in my own, I always reach for and crave more. Even me -- little miss open and honest -- yea, there are some things that occur to me, come to me, fascinate me... that I just don't write about or talk about. Not that I can't. Not that I shouldn't. I just don't.

The movie was good, though, and I highly recommend it if you're interested in that sort of thing.

From Netflix, I also got Thinking XXX

















This was a documentary about the making of a photo book that pictures porn stars in their street clothes, and naked. I got it mostly because Nina Hartley is in it, and I like her very much (her instructional videos, especially her guide to Oral Sex and the guide to Anal Sex. They contain actual sex scenes as well as instruction and they are wonderful.) I was pleasantly impressed by it, and it turned out to be a very good watch.

Again, porn interests me. Not just actually watching it, but the psychology that is involved in both the people who act in it and the people who produce it and the people who buy it. It's interesting to hear the stories and I was very happy to see that he not only shot the young stars...but the middle aged stars and some older stars as well. The concept of the book is very cool.

What's in from Netflix right now? Bliss, Season 1 and the first disk of Swingtown Season 1, which may or may not be good. It's a good concept. We'll see if it carries through.

And yes, there are some normal shows in my queue, too. I've seen the first two seasons of Weeds, and the first season of "How I Met Your Mother". So I'm not completely wrapped up in sex.

Not right now anyway.

*Achoo*

Sorry. The dust got me.

I've been thinking about this blog a lot lately. Wondering if I shouldn't delete it and start over, or at the very least, go back and delete some of the nonsense I've written.

But you know what? It's not nonsense. Not at all.

John Mayer has a new song out called "Say".(I'm not a John Mayer fan, btw. Dude is weird if you ask me.) There isn't much to the lyrics, but there is a lot of him singing "Say what you need to say".

That's what I have always tried to do here. Say what I needed to say. And while there was at times some significant editing going on (to protect the innocent or the guilty, your choice), I've typically found a way around that to get to the heart of the matter, in one way or another.

I hate editing myself. I do so much of it -- around my folks or around people at work. I absolutely hate the idea of doing it in my writing.

So as of right now, I have no intention of closing this blog to start another, nor do I have any immediate plans delete any posts. I may start a PG rated blog at some point, for those times when I don't necessarily want to write about sex. (That way, some of my other friends could read it lol) If I do, I'll link it here for the people who are insistent about not missing anything.

Don't think I'll be linking this one to that though *grin* Because the intent of this blog remains the same.

Now if I can just make myself write more often .... Who wants to crack the whip? :)

... not good enough

"Being better than nothing is no longer good enough."

And it makes me sick to my stomach to think that at some point in my life, it was.

Changes

Change is good. Even when sometimes it doesn't feel like it at the time, in the end it's almost always for the better.

And then some changes are good right away.

As I've written about here, at the end of May I got back into my "slightly obsessive diet and fitness program". I've been struggling for most of that time, not with keeping on it (typically when I set my mind to something like this, I don't have trouble keeping with it), but with not getting too nuts about it. I've lost over 12 pounds, which surpasses my "first" goal of 11 pounds, and I've got 10.4 pounds left to my "Normal BMI" goal.

While the scale hasn't been moving as much as I'd like (average of 3 pounds per month), I have noticed some definite changes in my body. I can actually feel my hip bones standing up. I look even more "deflated" than I have before (and my desire for the plastic surgery has returned) and my bra size has gone from a DD to a D. My face looks a little more even, too. And laying down, things feel much more 'normal' to me than they've felt before. This is all good.

Change is good.

When I feel good physically - when my body is healthy (fiber, protein, vitamins GO) and I can see and get the mental buzz from the effort I have put into getting healthier - my sex drive increases. I think nearly everyone is like that. The better you feel, physically and mentally, the more confidence you have - the sexier you feel.

Right? RIGHT!

Now if I can just stay with it for another 10 pounds, and if I could wrap my mind around tossing my Marlboro Lights for good, life would be really sweet.

Bootstraps

I was reading some of my posts from this summer, and I kid you not, I thought I was reading someone's else's words.

I am not that person. I am not someone who wallows in unhappiness. I am not someone who enjoys being unhappy or stays in a place of disarray on purpose.

I am not that girl.

While I'll admit that some outside factors - some nice stuff in other areas - have adjusted my outlook today, I still don't know why I stayed in that funk for as long as I did.

My bootstraps, they're picked up now.

Your bootstraps? Pick them up too if they're down a bit. There's nothing good that comes from feeling like shit.

House Full of Reasons

Tonight, while screwing around with my Facebook (yes I have one and myspace too shut up), I was digging around on an application called "iLike", which has music and videos and such. Always, when I find one of these, I put in a couple of artists that aren't really very popular though they consistently turn out music that I love. One of those is Jude Cole.

I was pleased to find a page for him. Very pleased. I have all of his CDs, but I clicked on a song to listen to while I messed around with something else, and one caught my eye that I really wanted to hear. "House Full of Reasons" from Jude's CD "A View from 3rd Street"

Huh.

This has been a "House Full of Reasons" around here lately, too. I think I've thrown away more ticket stubs (plane tickets, movie tickets, receipts...) and t shirts... I even put away my most prized Harley thermal shirt from Atascadero, California (one of my first after M got the bike) to give to my mom. Honestly, the shirt is way too big and my mom has always coveted it (along with my jacket which I am not quite ready to part with). I don't for a minute think that any of this has been conscious. But it's definitely been happening and I am neither worse or sad for it. I even pulled a frame out of the closet that my mom made for C and I when we got married, and I'm giving it back to her so she can re-use the frame for something else.

I've said to a couple of people that I recently that "Marriage does not agree with me" but the truth is -- maybe it's just that I've made bad choices. Okay, okay I know I've made bad choices. That doesn't mean I want to break or even tie my grandmother's trips down the aisle (three, but that's not as bad as it sounds). I'm just much more willing to admit now that I did suck in those relationships and I'm willing to bear my burden of blame for their failure but their failure is not completely my fault, either.

Fact is, though, that I'm doing some emotional and physical housecleaning and as it turns out, my house definitely needed it. And so did I.

Maybe my subconscious is making room. I hope so.

From life or fantasy

I traveled a couple weeks ago, and I always travel with one of my zillion spiral bound journals on the airplane. It seems to me that ideas of things to write about always come to me at the most inconvenient times, or at least, at times when I can’t really sit down and expound on them. So, as is typical for me, when a thought would strike, I’d write it down. I got several things to think further about, and some possibilities for story ideas. I wrote the first page of a story I’ve been working on (fantasy story, not a dirty story *chuckle).

One thing that I wrote down that I’ve been thinking about is this:

Is it easier to write from a place of experience, or complete fiction?

My erotica has always been a combination of the two. Some things I’ve done and enjoyed (or not enjoyed), and some things I’ve just fantasized about. But I think for me, the complete fiction option is the easier one. And maybe that’s why I haven’t written anything for so long – because my inspiration for new fantasies has sunk to an all time low.

I can, of course, write from real experience, and have many times. I’ve taken some things that have happened and expanded them, turning them into full-size erotic fantasy, and I’ve written things that happened, nearly verbatim.

But I think my best erotica comes from a place of complete and total fiction. Not because I haven’t had fabulous experiences in my life, but because I think that my writing totally shines when I have been inspired to think about something that I haven’t done. Whether it’s something I would actually enjoy ‘in the flesh’ or not, the idea of taking something new and making it sing to my soul, or better yet, someone else’s soul is a big part of the reason that I enjoy writing it in the first place.

When I’m not writing, it’s not because I have run out of experiences; things that I have done and enjoyed. It’s because I’ve run out of inspiration or that my life experience at the time doesn’t allow for any new inspiration to come through. And I think that’s what’s going on with me right now. I’ve just allowed so many other things to take over all of my energy and I don’t have enough left to fantasize about new things.

And I miss it. There’s nothing quite like finishing a piece of erotica for me, especially if I have to stop once or twice while I’m writing *wink. I’m hoping that I can get back to it soon.

I had a loose thought in that vein tonight. Maybe I’ll pull it off after I let it cook in my mind for awhile.

Until then, I guess I’ll just keep fantasizing about being about to fantasize…

Writer's Block

I bought a book this summer (okay, I bought a lot of books this summer but this one is different). I'm so tired of writer's block - or, at least what I'm calling writer's block. It gave a lot of helpful ideas on how to break through, writing exercises, stuff like that.

I've done some of the exercises. Or at least I've tried to.

And I'm still hitting the wall.

One thing I read in the book that really hit home is that there is almost always a reason for the block. Fear, anger, sadness, depression - there is usually a good reason the block exists, and the trick is to figure out what it is.

And that sounds very familiar to me. Because I've been sorting through some 'icky' feelings this year, and I think I got to the bottom of it. It's not completely resolved; I still haven't voiced the problem to the interested party. But I think that at least knowing what it is does help.

So can I suddenly write now? No. Not that I expected to, but it's a little disappointing nonetheless.

I'm going back to the exercises this weekend and do a couple. I'm determined to get past this. I fall asleep every night writing in my head - I have two different ideas I'm playing with and one of them is very exciting to me. I want to write them both.

And I will eventually.

But this is a step. I haven't even been writing here, and that kills me, too. Hopefully, this will work better than any writer's block exercise. Time will tell I guess.

No, I'm not writing

And that disappoints me.
Disarms me.
Depresses me.
Angers me.

Scares me.

There are reasons. Of course there are reasons. I don't feel myself. My concentration is on other areas of my life. My creativity is going into the soap pot and not out of my fingers.

I've been dealing with some emotional things that have too long gone undealt with.

This is all true, of course. Sex is pretty far down my list right now though at least I'm 'taking care' of things around here /wink.

I'm going out of town this weekend and I'm really looking forward to it. Good friends, good fun. Relaxing. Laughing. Having fun. I need this. It's imperative to getting myself back to myself.

It'll get better.
It always gets better.

I wrote an email tonight that I hope I'll have the courage to send. It's hard for me, because I really don't enjoy upsetting other human beings. But the problem is, that for so long, I avoided that in the meantime ended up doing interior damage to myself.

No more of that.
No more.
No.

So as I keep telling you I'll be back, I really will be.
I have to be.

This is who I am.
And this is where I should be.

Silence

I had a little epiphany this weekend.

Some days, I hate those things. They're like gnats, buzzing around your head that you can't quite swat away. And then when you do smash one, and you think "HA! Got you!" you end up with bug goo on your hand and ...

Well you get the idea.

I'm not very comfortable with silence lately.

I am always doing something. Playing on the computer, doing something in the kitchen (creating stuff that smells good and that has no calories...ie, soap), watching TV (currently re-watching Buffy from the beginning on DVD...and no, I don't know why, I was in the mood), reading, taking notes in one of my ten thousand little journal things I have stashed all over the house, playing with my hair .... sometimes I'm doing two of these at once, sometimes more than two ...

I know that to be able to get started writing, I need to be able to sit in silence and create.

And I can't seem to get myself to do it.

I wonder what that means.
And yes, I probably will have an answer to that, and I'd have one even sooner if....


I could sit in silence and figure it out.

Long Weekend

So, I took Friday off. My fourth day off this year. /eyeroll. Gave myself a nice long weekend to get a lot accomplished around here, and I did.

I also started going back through old bath and body recipes, and found a few things I'd really like to make again. I have a huge stash of bottles and jars and such, and it seems a shame to pitch them, so I figured maybe I'd use them up. I don't have all the ingredients, but I'll get them eventually.

Last weekend, I made a batch of soap with a local winery's wine (local to my folks'). I'm not sure how it's going to turn out, but we'll see.

I had a list of 20 things to accomplish this weekend and by the end of the weekend, they'll all be done except ...

writing /sigh

I can't get there. I'm really frustrated by that.

Also, on a completely unrelated note, even though I am no longer a 'fat chick', 'fat chick' jokes still piss me off and I'll always find a way to pummel an idiot who makes them.

I've got a batch of soap to make today, and then it's off to scrub the kitchen floor. Fun times!

I hope you had a wonderful safe holiday weekend!