Lunch with Mom

December 7, 2011

I love my mother dearly, I truly do, but sometimes the woman drives me batty. And makes me worry that one day that will be me, telling the waiter at Denny’s exactly how to prepare a BLT (“Very lightly toasted, bacon very, very crisp, and none of that wilted lettuce, young man.”) “Mom,” I wanted to say, this is Denny’s.”

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

We weren’t even supposed to be at Denny’s. Actually, it started even before my Mom and Dad pulled up at my workplace and called to let me know they’d arrived. “Great, come on in,” I’d said. “I’m just wrapping up a conference call.”

They couldn’t do that. Apparently Mom’s latest “thing” is that she “is terrified” to go into anyplace where there are strangers. I guess not being able to drive at night, if it’s raining, if it might snow and on the highways, being afraid of heights and closed spaces and crowds, being too “clumsy” to step off a curb, being unable to use anything of higher technology than a dial phone and being sure that she has every bizarre illness known to man is not enough oddness.  Now she has decided to make herself agoraphobic.

Sigh.  She’s 74. I guess if she wants to be the crazy old lady, she can do so.

At Thanksgiving we talked about the baby items we are making for my soon-to-be-born granddaughter. She had decided to make a quilt, I crocheted a baby bag and a couple little hats for her. “I need to mail them by the 1st, ” I said, since the baby is due the 15th. I told them I would call them to arrange for me to come out and pick up the quilt so I could mail them all together.  As time went on we realized we weren’t going to make the deadline, so I told her that was fine, if I got them out by this week we’d be okay, and I would call her when I could make it out.

Friday she called. “So what time will you be out tomorrow?”

I hadn’t made plans to go out there (and hour drive) Saturday. I had made other plans for Saturday (which involved having lots of sex with Ad and then going to a play party that night.)

“Huh?” I said.

“We made plans,” she insisted.

I “rescheduled” for Sunday. Now, given that she insisted that we had had plans for Saturday, and that those plans included me picking up the quilt, I assumed it would be done when I got there Sunday.

Assume and you make an ass–

Yeah, whatever.

So we had to schedule lunch for today so they could bring the finished quilt to be mailed. They agreed to come to my work and we would go from there to a nice little restaurant close by. Nothing fancy, but I knew it would be decorated for the holidays, it has a beautiful fireplace, and is right on a lake. Today was so beautiful and clear it would have been perfect.

Mom: “Can’t we go to Denny’s?”

Me: “Seriously? Denny’s?

Mom: “Yes, they have such a nice lunch there. Don’t they have a good lunch there, dear?” (to my dad.) “Our Denny’s is so nice, they have a sunken garden!”

So we went to Denny’s. Where she proceeded to return the utensils (sticky), instruct the waiter on her BLT and then drop her utensils on the floor, and even though she wouldn’t need her knife or spoon for a sandwich and fries, and I offered her mine if she did, she requested yet another set.

I asked her about meeting up with the local quilting group in her area that we had found online for her.  She has always had difficulty making friends, and when my father retired, was very jealous of any time that he spent with his friends, his family, or doing hobbies that didn’t include her–which is just about everything, because she can barely move, due to various mysterious ailments that the doctor (a “quack”) can never diagnose. “You need to make your own friends, Ma,” I said. “You have hobbies you enjoy. Then you won’t feel bad when dad goes bowling or hangs out with his brothers.”

“Oh no,” she said, about the quilting group. Then she divulged her fear of “walking into rooms with strangers.”

I had also advised that they find things to do together. My dad was a workaholic, and now…they needed to find something they could share as well as things that mom could do on her own.  She said she would like to get some exercise, and dad always liked to run and walk, so I suggested the Silver Sneakers program that a local hospital offers.  Her doctor agreed that it would be great for her.  That’s when she started having a “balance” issue. Suddenly she can’t maintain her balance and walks into walls and doorjambs.

“Did you look into the Silver Sneakers program for her, Dad?” I asked when she went to the restroom. “The doctor said so many of her physical issues could be alleviated if she got a little bit of exercise. Every little bit helps. Also, she will get to make friends and get to know some people her own age, see that she’s not alone in dealing with some of them.”

“You’re mom will never do it,” he said dismissively. “I had a gym membership for two years and she never went.”

“Oh really?” I’d never heard about that. “Where at?”

“Gold’s Gym,” he said.

GOLD’S GYM. For my then-72-year old mother. GOLD’S GYM. Christ. I’d be intimidated to go in there.

So. Other than that, and Mom being very awestruck at our “fancy Target,” here in the city, with its new-fangled parking garage, and staring at the houses as we drove by as if she’s never seen houses in a city before (“Look at what little yards they have! And how close together they are!”) lunch went well. Mom is sweet, and has a loving, generous heart. The quilt she made the baby is darling, and it was touching how proud she is of it.

I just have to never let them come to “the city” again.


Michigan – Endings and Beginnings

December 2, 2011

So here they are, the last of the snaps I took while we were on our mother/daughter retreat.

A bit about that, first. Ever since my Ex and I split, my daughter, who I refer to interchangeably as The Missy and The Girl,  and I have taken a yearly vacation together, just she and I. Usually it’s sometime in the summer, but this year it ended up being over Thanksgiving, which is perhaps apropos, since I am profoundly grateful to have had these times with her and to have been able to have this relationship with her. Not all mothers have such a close relationship with their teen-to-adult daughters.  Although my relationship with my own mother is wonderful now, close and loving, we had our struggles when I was growing up. So I know firsthand how unusual, and precious, my relationship is with her.

This time with my daughter was especially poignant, in that as she moves into true independence and adulthood, I can see that our yearly trips together may now become her yearly trips with girlfriends of hers (she is already planning her first girlfriend-vacation for next year.) I’m a little sad (and still hopeful that she and I can continue to do this, too) but also…it feels right for her to be making these plans without me.  Making her own plans, for her own life. I’m proud of her, excited for her, and proud of myself, too, in a small way, for having raised a girl that is as fearless, open and loving as she is.

We spent a lot of time talking this time around. In the past we have had a lot more pool/beach/hiking/activity time, but the beach was cold (as you’ll see) and mostly we just holed up, relaxing, writing and talking. It was more enforced relaxation than I’ve had in a long time, but it was really, really good.  For us both.

And the topics we covered…whew!…that’s a post all in and of itself. And of course (as mentioned in PoJ) there was her discovery of this blog…

But that’s another post.  Here, for now, are the last of the pictures.

The last two days were cold and blustery.

I have no idea what I was doing here.

But I know it was damn cold here.

And windy.

I love how the dunes take back the beaches when the summer folk go home.

And I loved the crash of the waves.

Monday it was clear again. Cold and windy, but sunny.

I was so glad to get my shot of the canoes on the beach.

And Tuesday, we were on the road again, headed back home.

All in all, a successful trip. “One of the best mother-and-daughter trips we have ever had,” the Missy wrote in the guest book at our place. And I have to agree. I hope that there will be many more to come.


Mother’s Day

May 8, 2011

This is how I spent my Mother’s Day.

After an early breakfast, in the park with the kids…

And after a nap in the park, time getting to know my new Kindle–in a special cover that The Missy got for it, so I (hopefully) won’t leave it behind like I did my Kobo on the trip.

And then, after yet another nap (my late, drunken night of debauchery the night before necessitated many naps today) Ad and I walked the Cooper-dog up to the store to get ingredients for his (Ad’s, not Cooper’s) awesome chili.  And chocolate chip cookies for dessert.

A perfect Mother’s Day!

Here’s hoping that all of you out there had a wonderful Mother’s Day too!


Miscellaneous & a Task

March 26, 2011

So I have to post my notes about Task 5 here, because it wasn’t kinky at all, and was with my daughter, who I don’t like to blog about over there.  It was freaking perfect though, and funny as hell.

The task was this: Work the following words into a single vanilla conversation (not with anyone aware of the task project): penetrate; flirt; butt; engorge.  Bonus word – asparagus.

W had given me a deadline, which I had missed time and again.  Do you know how little conversation I have with non-kinky or non-aware people? I literally went 4 days without an opportunity to have a conversation such as the one outlined.

Tonight I sat down with Ad and my daughter and saw my opportunity.

Me to her: “So, did you like the asparagus the other night?”

No really, we had asparagus for dinner the other night, and no I didn’t buy it on purpose just so I could talk about it!  (I’m not that clever, unfortunately.  I swear!)

She could have just said “Yes,” and left me floundering for an opening in which to toss about “penetrate” and “engorged” (cuz you know those words come up in conversation every day.)  But no, even by accident The Missy is awesome.

“Yes–and I liked it even more because it made my pee smell funny!”  I paused a moment, then laughed. She was going to make this easier than I thought!  Thank you lord for an irreverent, goofy-ass daughter.

“Oh? And, um, how’d you figure that out?  Did you, uh, stick your nose down by your butt and sniff?”

She laughed. “No, Mom, it’s really obvious when you go.  Couldn’t you smell it?”

I confessed to not having noticed it myself. “Oh, well, that’s because some people don’t produce the enzyme that makes it smell like that…” she said.

“You mean the asparagus penetrates your pee?” I asked, being deliberately obtuse. I glared over at Ad when he snorted.  He knew about my task and had just realized what I was doing.

The Missy sighed. She loves biology and will take any opportunity to expound on it when she can. She then went into a rambling explanation of why asparagus makes some people’s pee smell bad–

I interrupted her. “Oh! So the pee cells get engorged with the asparagus enzyme–“

“No no no…you’re not listening.”  More scientific explanation that involved enzymes and substrate, and one of them consuming or overwhelming or engulfing the other.

I nodded very seriously, while Ad, behind me, struggled not to laugh. “So,” I finally said, “eating asparagus you’re flirting with disaster–you could end up having weird smelling pee all the time!”  (Yeah, that was a stretch, but I really couldn’t see any other way to get from asparagus and pee to flirting.)

I looked at Ad.  “Was that all of them?”

He burst out laughing. “Yep.”

The Missy looked puzzled.  I told her we were playing a word game.  She rolled her eyes.  “You guys are so weird….”


I was just in the laundry room folding laundry that I had brought over from W’s.  Some mine and some his. It occurred to me that I almost never wash and dry, much less fold, Ad’s laundry. He wouldn’t want me to, I don’t think, and besides, our relationship is different. Where it wouldn’t feel right to let W do his own (I have done, but each time I feel weird and want to take over and do it for him), with Ad it would feel weird to do his laundry.  Invasive, somehow.  We are equals, and I certainly wouldn’t want him to do my laundry.

It felt nice washing W’s shirts and pants though, and folding them into neat stacks, hanging and buttoning the shirts, wondering if he gets any pleasure from me doing these things for him.


Work has been so damn busy, and yet rewarding at the same time. The Climb (our yearly sporting event/fundraiser for which I manage more than 90 volunteers) went off almost flawlessly, and the flaws that I did find I’ve already found solutions for, so that’s good.  And a load of anxiety off my back for another year.

I had a weird moment of feeling left out the Friday night before the event, when everyone got ready to leave the office to go have a beer and didn’t invite me, except as an afterthought. That…hurts.  But I had to accept that it is me that helps perpetuate that, as well: I live very differently than they do, I don’t go hang out with them after work, my own work is pretty solitary (and I like it that way) and I am in this weird “in-between” world in that on one hand we have these 30-somethings all getting married and starting families, these 40-somethings that all have young children and are wrapped up in that, and the twenty-somethings that go out partying. I just don’t fit into any of their little groups…

For instance. We were all talking about birth control. (Yeah you get an office full of right-at-that-age women and it’s an open topic for discussion.) I mentioned the possibility of changing mine (I have a five-year IUD that I may have to re-up soon) and the headaches (literally) that this causes (many BC pills cause me migraines.) “Well, Ad doesn’t want kids right?” one woman asked. “Right…” I said. “He should consider getting fixed then!” she said. “My husband just did it and it was no big deal and then you’d never have to worry about pregnancy again…”

Yeah, except Ad’s not my only partner. And no matter what kind of protection any of the men I sleep with use, I am the only one responsible for my sexual and reproductive health.  Period.  They couldn’t begin to understand that, and I wouldn’t expect them to. I did say that I believe my health is my responsibility, but even that drew blank, uncomprehending stares.  Just as they wouldn’t understand the laundry thing, this is just as much a mystery.

And so I remain…an outsider…in so many ways.

And, for the most part, I am okay with that.  Sometimes, though, I wonder what it would be like to just have girlfriends that I hang out with, go shopping with, lunch with.

Then I think about the time it would take away from the rest of my life and…I don’t think I am missing out on much.

Speaking of going out and such–I haven’t been. I’ve been pretty damn reclusive, in fact. I go through these periods where I am just done with social interaction, and then I pull away from everyone except the fam and Ad and W and concentrate on home and writing, reading, blogging & work for a while. That’s where I am now. It’s actually not a bad time to be here in my “social” cycle, because by the time we go on the cruise I will be back into my “extrovert” phase again, and ready to be out and about again.


Oh, and as I was just telling W in IM-it snowed here today. I almost put my boots away (before realizing that with my new awesome room-size closet I can keep them unpacked all year!)  Thank goodness I didn’t. It was funny crocheting a bikini in boots and a scarf though.

And yeah, you read that right: “crocheting a bikini.” I actually got the first cup done–omg it looks so cool! But when I went to try it “on” I realized it was WAY too small.  I deliberately made it a lot smaller than the pattern, a) because I want it to be skimpy, and b) because (in case you haven’t noticed) I got me some small titties! Apparently not as small as I think they are though, because “skimpy” didn’t BEGIN to describe it.  So…back to the drawing board. Or crochet hook. But I at least proved to myself that I can create at least one cup of the bikini top!

Okay, I think that’s all I gots for tonight.

Peace out.

PS – I got the bonus!


Truth: Day 18 – Marriage

January 14, 2011

Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free. ~ Bible, John 8:32

Day 18 → Your views on gay marriage.

It’s amazing what a difference a good pair of warm, fuzzy boots, rather than athletic shoes, makes.  My feet were warm on the drive in to work this morning for the first time since the weather has turned bitter. To stick with the bible theme above: hallelujah!

Also, I love this blog: The Hot Word Blog. Today it has a post about the meaning of the words for the zodiac signs, by way of the “news” that was all over the internets yesterday that your zodiac sign may have changed.  ABC news and astrologers like Susan Miller (@astrologyzone) are saying this is old news–about 3,000 years old, since it’s been predicted since then–but it’s been an interesting story to follow.

(With the “new dates,” by the way, I am exactly on the cusp of Leo and Virgo (previously I was a Virgo.)  It might be interesting to see what that “change” might mean, but regardless, I’ve always wanted to be able to say I’m “on the cusp”! ;-)  Oh, and W, I think you’re an Aquarius, now!)

And, as yet another aside, I adore my daughter. Have I said that recently? She and her friend came in to my office today. They have always volunteered at the fundraising event I manage the volunteers for each year, but always before it was because their high school required x number of volunteer hours.  I was immeasurably pleased when she came to talk to me the other night about continuing to volunteer, and also some ideas she had to bring in additional volunteers and help generate teams.  They were all creative ideas and she wanted to help implement them.  I am so impressed with her initiative and enthusiasm.  Anyway, today she and her cohort-in-volunteering came in to talk to the event manager about these ideas, and I bought us sandwiches and we sat around and talked, or I worked while they chattered away, until, for some reason, I started talking about who I follow on my work Twitter, and Stephen Hawking’s name came up, and then we all sat there talking about him and physics and ALS and  intelligence and space aliens (not sure where the space aliens came in.)  See why I love my girl(s)?

All right, down to brass tacks, as my dad used to say. The topic of today’s Truth is gay marriage. My answer is simple: if two persons of the same sex wish to marry, then they should be allowed to. So should three persons. Or four. Of any sexual orientation. The right to marry, since it is a governmentally-sanctioned institution, should not be rooted in religious beliefs. Personally, I think marriage as a religious rite should be separated from civil unions entirely. Then, if a certain religion doesn’t want to approve of gay marriage, more power to them. But a state-sanctioned institution should not discriminate based on religious beliefs (which I think most of the arguments against gay marriage stem from.)

Actually, the whole marriage industry/mysticism/fascination bemuses, amazes and, at times, shocks me. I understand the legal reasons behind civil unions.  That makes sense to me (tho preferential treatment to married persons over singles enrages me.) But this whole thing of spending thousands of dollars on one day, of all the misguided anticipation and consumerism that goes into it, just repels me.

Okay, back to your normally scheduled Friday evening activities!


A Happy Day

December 20, 2010

Ah the joys of popping awake at 4am. Not sure what this is about, but I’m ready to get over it. Now. Please?

My week is looking up. I hate to admit that just the thought of seeing W gives me a whole new outlook, but, okay, it does.  I was pretty crabby yesterday, after a week of enforced quarantine from him due to health issues.  His, not mine. He caught an awful cold last weekend-ish, and has literally been nearly bedridden the entire time, too sick to do much more than sleep, take meds, sip a little soup and send the occasional email that he’s still alive. Because I have some rather major surgery scheduled next week, he hasn’t allowed me anywhere near him, which has been driving me nuts.  Besides just being crabby about being separated and having so little contact, it’s also been hard because I am a nurturer and a caretaker at heart, and to know he’s been alone and sick all this time, without someone to care for him, about kills me.  He says he prefers to be alone when he’s ill, but I think he lies. No one likes to be sick and alone. Period.  So this past week has been rough.

This is one of the conundrums of living separately. I consider both he and Ad co-primaries, and yet, because W and I live apart, I can’t share in all the little parts of daily life with W that Ad and I do.  If he was just a sex/kink partner, that would probably be fine–keep the relationship at a shallow level–but he’s not, and it is very hard for me to deal with him as if he is, when he holds me at arm’s length like he did this past week. It makes me feel rejected, our relationship somehow minimized, to be told to stay away because he is ill. Sharing the good and the bad, caring for each other during the good times and bad, helping each other, are all hallmarks, to me, of a relationship that is about more than just getting fucked. And though I may write about that aspect of it in Pieces of Jade quite a bit, our relationship means quite a bit more to me than that.  Honestly, I know it does to him too, but it’s hard for me to see beyond the knee-jerk “he doesn’t want me around” feeling to know that in my heart as well as my head.

But then I read a line in an email, “Please call me, I miss the sound of your voice,” or I talk to him on the phone (finally, last night) and I hear him tell me he’s been protecting me, and it puts it–and my head–in proper perspective again. I am so needy at times it makes me sick. But that really is all it takes. To know, to hear, that he misses me, that he wants me there, and I feel okay again. Not happy about him not letting me be there to care for him, but on sure footing again in our relationship. I know, I know–he tells me all the time that I shouldn’t question that or feel these anxieties, but the fact is I do. I am learning not to react (overly much) about them though. “You can’t control how you feel, but you can control how you react.” That’s my mantra, that is the shining example of being a “better person” that I reach for and hope to achieve, and, slowly, I am.

Of course, it took me three days to call him after he emailed me, because I was still crabby at him for not letting me be there.  I didn’t say that I don’t react, just that I am learning. Baby steps.

I had really sweet moment when we talked.  I am sure I am projecting too much onto this one phrase (especially as I am the one that brought it up) but he was telling me why he hadn’t allowed me near him while he’s been sick. Personally, I think he was being excessive about it, and he admitted to it, echoing my own “You’re being over-protective.” But when he said it, it wasn’t an indictment, it was an admission of caring that completely disarmed me.  He is very protective of me, caring and concerned in a way that speaks volumes about him as a person, and about our relationship in general.  And made me realize that for all his protestations of wanting to be alone when he’s sick, if it hadn’t been for my surgery coming up, and him wanting to protect my health prior to that, he would have allowed me to come over, and probably appreciated having me there.  He was sacrificing for me, not being difficult or stubborn.


So yeah, as I said, my week’s looking up.

Got most of my shopping done. As odd as this may seem, although I hate to do the decorating stuff at Christmas, and have issues with the celebration of Christmas in general (for information on the real origins of Christmas, read here), I really, truly love the excuse to shop for presents for my loved ones. Not that I need an excuse to give presents, but having one gives me license to indulge myself (and them.) I get to hunt for just the right thing and I get to spend hours shopping, dealing with the hustle and bustle of the stores, which I love.  It’s the exact opposite of how I feel about shopping in general (unless I am on the hunt for a perfect pair of shoes.) And giving presents just makes me happy. To see someone’s face when I hit the gift-nail on the head gives me more satisfaction than getting a gift ever could. I am sure these feelings have narcissism at their roots, but you know what? I don’t care. I love it.

Anyway, got most of that done, as well as a handmade gift that I have been working on for weeks. I thought it would take a few days to complete, but it took far longer than that, and honestly, I’m not thrilled with the end result. (Sigh. I’m a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to these projects, which means I need to start NOW for the upcoming year’s gifts.)  But Ad says it’s beautiful, and it will have to do–if for no other reason than that it is a testament to my new “follow-thru” philosophy. LOL  I need to complete two smaller projects this week, but those really should take just a couple hours each.

This morning I am going to hit the gym and run a bit. I am not sure if I should even be worrying about working out, as I will probably be unable to be back at it for 6-8 weeks after my surgery, but (as Ad notes) working out makes me feel good in my head–it has nothing to do with being in “shape.” So I need to do it.

I spend the next two nights at W’s. I could hardly stand it when he said I could come over last night.  I wanted to drive over there right then, but realized I had no work clothes, nor my laptop, etc., so had to postpone it until today.

Wednesday our office closes early, and then is shut until January 3rd. Wednesday afternoon the Missy and I are grocery shopping for a dessert and cookie making extravaganza that we are having on Thursday. So far on the list are sugar cookies, cinnamon-sugar pinwheels, white-chocolate peppermint bark, Kahlua-chocolate cheesecake and my infamous chocolate chunk brownies.  She is making a list of several other cookies to make, and we are going to spend all day Thursday baking.

Oh yeah, that reminds me, need to get a tin for the cookies, so that I can wrap them and keep them from the marauding hordes before we head out to my sister’s on Saturday.

And last but not least, quite by accident (because I haven’t been keeping up with my blog reading) I ran across a fellow blogger’s “Top Blogs 2010” list, and found APL on it! I was enormously flattered and pleased to be listed among that august company.  The list is a good one, with many great bloggers on it, and a few new ones that I hadn’t heard about.  Head on over there and check it out!


Weekend Update

September 27, 2010

W’s out of town this week, so I am practicing my “I’m just a normal mom/girlfriend/psuedo-daughter-in-law/daughter” facade, checking everyone’s schedule, driving kids around, working out, writing, reading, planning dinners and making a grocery list (slow cooker food even!), doing all those normal mom/girlfriend type things–you know, the ones that don’t involve kink. Cuz my kink-guy is outta town. (sad face) Even he is pretending to be a normal person–he’s at his daughter’s place on the East Coast, waiting for her to have her baby, his first grandchild. Wow, huh? My kinky guy’s gonna be a grandpa! Part of me wishes that (well sometimes) we were a “normal” couple, and that I could get to know his daughter/grandchild.  You know, share in that? But I guess vicariously will have to do.  And hell, I make a lousy in-law with Ad’s family, and they are pretty awesome, so what am I saying? Why add to the weight of familial obligation?

I do pretty much have my week scheduled out though. This morning I dropped off the BoyChild at school (remembering to give him lunch money–I haven’t forgotten once yet! Go me…) and went to the gym.  Ran two miles and did some weights, and, um…bleh, I’m already a bit tight.  :-(  That’s what happens to lazy girls. Missy, her bf, the BC, Ad, me are home for dinner tonight, so I need to figure out what to make…oh yumm, just found a recipe for chicken enchilada casserole…!  Loving allrecipes.com and their “recipe box” feature.  And making a weekly menu makes me feel like a “real” mom.  lol  Tomorrow I drive the BC to school again, but I am planning to go to a workout class with my workmates tomorrow night–my first at the new gym–so don’t think I’ll hit the gym in the AM. I’d like to get some writing done, real writing on a new project, maybe I’ll grab me a coffee & a bagel and write at the cafe for an hour or so before work.  So, Tuesday night…slow cooker night? Wednesday is open (daughter & bf home, BC not.)  I was thinking about meeting a new guy from OKC for a drink, but…naw.  Think I’ll go home on time and hang with the kids and Ad.  So that means cooking dinner. (That’s three meals to plan!) Then Thursday is another gym class night, so, another easy or slow cooker night.

Sheesh sounds like all I do is think about food (and it’s true, I do, all the time!) but really, I kind of enjoy making dinner with Ad. It’s a really nice way to unwind from the day, and finding all these new recipes to try is a lot of fun.  Maybe not as much fun as getting tied up and messed with…or maybe it is.  It’s just a different kind of fun.

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I had a pretty good weekend. Started with my boss giving me the okay to work one day a week from home, so I’m thrilled about that!  Already set it up so that I’ll be (most weeks) at W’s the night before, so I can combine “I’m an office slave” play with work. ;-)  Then Friday night was a “special” date.  That went…well.  I mean, the guy was thrilled, and it wasn’t awful, in that it was all for W, and that was hot, knowing that all the while he would be waiting to hear all about it, knowing he wanted me there, knowing that this guy knew, all through drinks and smalltalk, that he was going to get laid, because W had said so…  And knowing that the guy really felt…I don’t know, like he’d won the lottery or had dreamed his good fortune in getting the opportunity to spend and evening with me. It’s flattering, and from the angle of wanting to give, of really feeling submissive, it worked. It wasn’t great sex, but the sex I had with W on Saturday, while I told him about it, and then later again, was great.  But that was just as I had assumed it would be.  It’s always that way…it makes me so fucking hot to know I’ve done what he wanted, that I’ve pleased him, and to feel the pressure of his pushing me to go there. And, yes, to know I gave this guy something he might not have had the chance to experience otherwise.

Along that tangent, it always amazes me when a man says, “God, I’ve never met a woman that would do that!” (whatever “that” is) when it seems like such a normal thing to me.  Or, “I’ve never met a woman that likes sex so much!” And, of course, most have never met someone that will look them right in the eye and say, “My Owner has told me to satisfy you sexually.  Will you allow me to do that?”  One thing he (W) has given to me in all this is a sense of being…special. Unusual, and possibly…desired for that.  Sought after, even. I mentioned that before in terms of BDSM, that BDSM really gave me an understanding of how much my “differentness” made me special and desirable. And now…he’s shown me how my sexuality and sensuality makes me special too.  Wanted.  And when he says, “You’re hot!” I’m starting to believe it.  To feel it.  And not just because I’ll spread my legs, or let someone tie me up and hurt me. But because I’m…me.

I’m not trying to be self-deprecating or falsely modest here.  I do know I am an attractive woman.  But I have just never been “that” girl, you know, someone that men actively (and openly) look at, lust over, watch. And now…sometimes…I am. And…it’s kinda cool.

And yet, as wonderful as all that is, Saturday was spent trying to get through the particular kind of “drop” I always get after I do these things. It’s weird…similar (very) to subdrop, but without the subspace incident that usually precipitates such. It’s (I guess) a sort of reaction to doing something this…emotionally edgy for me. I am in this heightened state of anxiety for so long, and then deeply in this space where I am so focused on him that I almost…lose myself in my desire to please him, but then, when it’s over, I kind of have to come back to myself, and sometimes, well, I still suffer from feelings of guilt, of being “bad” that I can’t seem to shake no matter how much I tell myself it’s not bad, what I do.  And then, I need to work through those. Generally, I work through them by spending time with W, feeling and experiencing his very real admiration of me and what I do for him & for others, and know that it really is okay, what I do.

Or he fucks me silly, and makes it better that way. lol

Seriously though, I really need to be with him afterward.  For the first time this time, we tried having me going home to Ad, and it just didn’t work. Nothing against Ad, and in fact I highly praise him, because when I mentioned my low feelings of Saturday day, before I’d got to see W, he said, “Well, of course you were feeling down. You do this for him, with him, you need to be with him after.  I just don’t get it the way he does, and I can’t give you what you need to come back from it.” What a lovely, smart man he is.

So, in future, if we can’t schedule me being with W after, it will have to not happen until we can. I did get to spend Saturday afternoon and evening with him, and then the next morning (of my Sleeping in Chains post) and had a lovely scene later that afternoon before I took him to the airport, which was perfect for getting me recentered and feeling “normal” again, but the hours spent in a funk Saturday morning, avoiding him and everyone else, were not so good, even if they looked good on the outside (facial at a spa, library, shopping & a yummy (expensive) lunch alone at a favorite restaurant.) Alone-time is not good for my emotional state when I am in the throes of that.  It did all come right though, and Sunday morning I “woke up” feeling my usual sexy, sassy, happy self.

I do wish I could give W that bouncy, excited girl that he wants me to be after I do this stuff without the sad-girl part, though. I know he doesn’t understand why I suffer, and, more than wanting me to be bouncy for him, he probably just plain doesn’t like seeing me suffer needlessly. (Unless, of course, he is directly causing it, because he wants me to. Then it’s okay. lol) But for me, knowing I am not what he wants me to be only makes it worse. I hate to fail him, even in small ways, even when I know he doesn’t see it that way. It’s like being short.  I can’t change that about myself, but knowing he prefers tall women makes me feel a little less because I am not. And yet he would never phrase it that way, I am sure.  It’s stupid of me, I know!

Anyway, enough useless rambling…this is starting to be a “poor pitiful me” post, when it is certainly not meant to be.  Maybe I am just feeling down because he’s away, it’s after 5pm there, and I haven’t heard a peep out of him. I know we’re not a “real” couple (see above) but at least he could let me know he is there and safe.  This is when I truly resent the shit out of the fact that he doesn’t text.

Sigh.

Okay, off to the grocery and home to Ad and kids and making a yummy dinner, and maybe, later, some warm, loving “vanilla” sex with my boyfriend. That’ll make me feel better.


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