Acceptance

May 31, 2011

Woke this morning with a migraine trying to assert itself.  Sharp pinpoint of pain right above my left eye.  I think I caught it in time, though migraine meds on an empty stomach don’t sit too well either.

Sigh.  I had so many things I wanted to say! And now…my head is just a muddle between pain medication and migraine. (sad face)  I will try to persevere.

I had an awesome weekend, and in honor of it, I have begun a campaign to designate the Sunday before Memorial Day “National Bondage Day.”  Mark it on your calendars, folks!  I should have a post over on PoJ later today or tomorrow all about my playdate with Jessica Simpson, Steve Madden, my two guys–and a lot of rope. ;-)

I had some interesting insights and discoveries into myself this weekend as well. Nothing too deep or earth-shattering, but…interesting. One of them helps me understand some of the decisions I’ve made in my life. The other is more of a “growth” thing.  The growing part I think I’ll address over in my PoJ post, but the other is more suitable to this space, I think.

So the deal is this. W and I were discussing relationship dynamics. Specifically, 24/7 M/s or O/p relationships, as opposed to our own dynamic. I am sexually submissive to W, and that bleeds over, because of my personal mental/emotional makeup, into other areas of our relationship, and I do consider the relationship of the Owner/property category–he owns and controls my sex life. This dynamic is much deeper and more internalized for me than him, I think, again because of my particular emotional makeup, but he totally gets it.  He said something very perceptive the other day. “I think if I’d been the kind of Top that wanted to control your life more, you would have responded to that and become more of a submissive in everyday life as well.” He’s exactly correct, I think–and in an interesting dichotomy, I think it is precisely because I am a submissive at heart that, rather than seeking out another relationship that would satisfy that need in me, instead I molded myself and my own desires to my Dominant’s. It is a testament both to my own self-awareness and to W’s relationship skills that we were able to recognize that I do need some balance between the two extremes, and he was able (and willing) to explore that dynamic on at least some levels more with me, in order to assure that those needs are met as well.

But I digress a bit. To continue on with my original point (see, I DO have lots in my head this morning!)

The reason that W and I aren’t in a more “traditional” M/s style relationship boils down, essentially, to one simple fact: neither of us wants to work that hard. We do this because it brings us pleasure, it makes us hot and it leads to some crazy hot sex.

Now, I understand that for many people, it is in the act of self-sacrifice, it is in doing something difficult, and doing it well, that they derive pleasure. For many people, it is the hard work that makes a thing worthwhile.  I get that and respect that–immensely.

But that’s just not me.  Furthermore, that trait informs not only my BDSM-relationship style, but also many, many other areas of my life, if not all of them.  It wasn’t until W and I were talking about it that I put it all together tho, and made the connection.

It came about because we were trying to draw an analogy from vanilla life to WIITWD and the different dynamics. What we came up with is the comparison between an athlete that runs marathons and one that does 5k’s.  Or, to personalize it, someone like me, that runs ~3 miles, max, and has no desire to run further, because after that, it gets hard, and I just don’t want to work that hard. I run because it is a pleasure, a joy, but once it starts hurting and getting to be a chore, once it becomes work–forget it.  That’s why it is so hard to get myself to restart running consistently, because that first mile of every run sucks.  I hate every minute of it. But if I can just get past that to the other side, the pure pleasure of feeling my body move, of feeling it do what it’s meant to do, of feeling, for that tiny amount of time, “athletic,” well, then it is no longer work. Or if it is, the cost/benefit ratio tilts heavily in favor of benefit, and I am willing to pay the cost.

But honestly, it takes a lot to tip the scales in that analysis, and to be blunt, most things that are hard or difficult or make me miserable in the doing of them just don’t have that big a benefit to warrant me doing them.

It’s easy to see how not living an M/s relationship 24/7 fits into that.  Being a slave is hard, and more about sacrificing one’s own wants to another than engaging in it for one’s pleasure. But it wasn’t until I turned the idea over in my head that I recognized how many other places in my life this has had an impact.

For instance, school.  I love to take classes. If I could afford it, I’d probably take a class every semester. But as deep as my love of learning goes, and as many college credits as I have, I’ve NEVER completed a degree.  Not because I can’t, nor even because I don’t want to, but because, frankly, it’s a lot of work! There are classes I have to take that I just don’t want to. And frankly, sometimes even classes I enjoy get to be a drag after 3 months, so I stop going. But given the appropriate cost/benefit ratio, and yes…I’ll do it. For instance, that fucking math class. The benefit–a feeling of accomplishment in the face of adversity, the knowledge that W and Ad would be proud of me, and the knowledge that I would be setting a good example for my kids–became a huge benefit, enough, finally, to force me past my fear of failure, past my desire to take the easy way, and on to finally finishing the class.

That feeling of accomplishment–of forcing myself to do something I am afraid of–is actually quite a strong motivator on the “benefit” side of things, btw. It made me take a job as a waitress when I was so shy I could barely walk into a room alone. It made me hike to the bottom of the Grand Canyon, knowing that at the bottom was a scary-ass suspension bridge over the Colorado River that I’d have to walk over. It made me take a bus with 50 other women I didn’t know to Washington DC for the march for freedom of choice, and to stand up on that same bus and tell the story of the abortion I had chosen to have, something I had never told anyone else.  It’s what made me start running in the first place, what made me climb the rock wall and to the top of the High Temple on our cruise.  It led me to offer to take on countless jobs, including the one I am in now, without knowing I actually had the skills to cut it.  It’s what drives me to explore the intersection between pain and pleasure, and why I seek out some of the more extreme corners of that kind of play at times.

On the other hand, the desire for pleasure, for experiencing joy, led me to choosing to end my marriage of 15 years. It led me to conquer my fear of being rejected and made me reach out to a stranger–W–on Fetlife. It’s led me to cut toxic people from my life and to choose to take my children on trips rather than to buy a new car. It’s allowed me to accept that maybe I won’t finish that novel (just too hard to do) but to accept the joy I find in writing here and on PoJ and in writing short stories.

On the other hand, this very trait has cost me at times as well. There is no amount of benefit that will ever make me a good wife, housekeeper or cook. I’m a loving partner and a great girlfriend, but domesticity just doesn’t do it for me.

I will probably never be able to afford to retire, because I spend money too freely on transient pleasures.

I will probably never really accomplish anything of true, lasting value or worth. That novel? Ain’t gonna happen. The half-marathon I want to do? Nope. Get a degree and get an important job? Not so much.  I probably won’t become a world-famous blogger or be asked to speak at events or change the world in any large, lasting way.

But…

I’m okay with all this. I am okay with the bad and the good.

I can accept these things about myself.  I can live with–and love–me. Just as I am.


Cruise Wrap-Up, Ship Days 2-3, Part 1

May 25, 2011

Another picture post! We actually took a lot of pictures of our third day, because we went on an excursion to the Mayan ruins at Lamanai (and I forced W to take lots of “vanilla” pics.) ;-)  In fact I have so many pictures that I am going to break them up into two posts.

Day 2 was an “At Sea” day, and for a number of reasons, wasn’t conducive to picture-taking.  The first half of the day we spent on the pool deck, lazing about, sunning ourselves like slothful lizards, drinking like fish and just enjoying being naked on a ship full of sexy, sexual people.  (I LOVED getting to show off my rings.  And did I mention the rubdown that W gave me?  He left not a smidgeon of my naked skin uncovered by sunscreen.  It was amazingly erotic, having his hands all over me–gently!–in front of dozens of people.) But the pool deck was a “no-picture” zone, due to the fact that everyone was half-to-all-the-way-naked, including me.  And sadly, that night I was laid low with my first-ever bout of seasickness.  So Tuesday night was not much fun. But we’d had a great time the night before, so I guess I can’t complain too much.

I don’t think I mentioned what a great time W and I had our first night on the cruise. That night actually spotlights why our “three” works out so well. I had been on a cruise with Ad before, and really loved it, but we didn’t spend one night out past 10 or 11pm.  Ad tends to retire at about that time, and if I don’t have anyone else encouraging me to do otherwise, I’ll snuggle up with him and go to bed then as well. That’s the pattern here at home, as a matter of fact. At home, with Ad, I’ll head into the bedroom with him at 10pm, we’ll talk and snuggle and read for awhile, and I may stay awake doing ‘puter stuff for awhile, but I’m content to be in bed early with him.

W, on the other hand, tends to wake up at about 9 or 10pm, and if he is going to play with me, that’s usually when it starts. So I have no problem staying up with him until 1 or 2 in the morning, and, especially on this cruise, where so much happens at night, I wanted to be awake and out there, enjoying the nightlife. I never would have got to if W hadn’t been there, which would have been a shame.  Or Ad would have felt obligated to escort me, which wouldn’t have worked out for either of us either.  This way, he got to do what he wanted, without feeling guilty about not accompanying me, and I got to do what I wanted, without feeling guilty about leaving him in the room.

Anyway, Monday night that was exactly what we did.  Adam went to bed at about 11 and W and I got gussied up and cruised the ship.  We ended up hanging out at the bar right outside the “swinger playroom” and talked and flirted with people and had drinks–and tried to get my courage up to go inside the playroom–but even without doing that (I never did make it in) we had loads of fun.

Anyway, on to the pictures! (Vanilla ones, how ’bout that?!)

These are from Day 3.  We took an excursion to visit Lamanai, one of the oldest and largest of the Mayan ruins in Belize, which included a ninety minute bus ride and a boat ride on the New River to the New River Lagoon, where the ruins are.  But before we could get on the bus, we had to take a thirty minute tender to Belize itself. If you’ve been following my picture posts on Fetlife, you’ve seen the tenders I’m talking about. ;-)

I love the tender rides from the cruise ship into port, by the way. I see people complaining about how long and boring they are and I am amazed they feel that way. I love the blue, blue water and open sky, watching the ship recede and a new place, a place I’ve never seen before, come into view. I can’t understand how people can sit in their seats and not hang over the side of the boat to watch the land come into view and the city take shape.  I like watching the birds wheel overhead and feeling the salty wind on my face. Maybe I should have been a sailor, huh?

I couldn't stay seated.

Our first view of Belize.

Goofballs on the bus.

The other goofballs.

Safari Girl on the New River

Local fishermen with a turtle they'd caught-and not for a pet!

Another boat of cruise goers on the river.

Spider monkey in a tree.

He came within a few feet of the boat. Our guide had to stop a woman from holding her camera out too far to take a pic: "Don't Mami! He'll snatch it!"

A new definition of the term "batcave."

Ironically, the nicest place we saw on the river was a rehab facility.

First view of Lamanai. You can't see in this picture, and you can't get a real understanding of the immensity of it anyway from a photo, but the tallest temple peeks above the trees.

In my next post we’ll visit Lamanai itself!  Stay tuned. ;-)


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!


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!


I’m so excited…

October 20, 2010

I have the words to some 80′s song in my head:

“I’m so excited, I just can’t hide it
I’m about to lose control and I think I like it, I like it.”

But when I went to Youtube to find it, but what came up was a song from the “golden age of disco” called Let’s Have a Party Tonight.  Have I ever mentioned that W revers all things disco? No?  Well, believe it, he does.  And so, in honor of my goofy Owner, I just had to post it.  What a great totally-iconically-disco song, and one I’ve never heard! (And I know, I know, if you’ve read half the stuff I post over on PoJ, you probably wouldn’t use the word “goofy” to describe W.  But honest–he does have a silly side.)

So what am I excited about? Oh, just that I am going away for a WEEK for fun, first with W, then with W and Ad, and then at a work conference.  That’s right, I am looking forward to a work conference, but it’s not with my coworkers (except 10 or so from our national office and those are people I am looking forward to seeing) but with about a thousand other folks that have all gathered to learn about the software package that we use to manage our donors, websites and special events.  I’m actually looking forward to being around all those people I don’t know and learning stuff that only I will know in my organization.  I am also honored that my pseudo-boss felt that it was worth the money to send me to it.  And hell, it’s a free trip to a city I’ve never been!

(Edit: I always forget that I have been there. My brother died at John Hopkins in Baltimore, and I was there for the last two days of his life. But of course I didn’t see anything other than the hotel and the hospital that time.)

Anyway. I always hear people say, “Don’t get so excited, then you won’t be disappointed…” about doing a thing or going somewhere.   Poppycock, I say!

(How’s that for a great word??  Which, by the way, is also a brand of candied popcorn, besides meaning nonsense, and in spite of the fact that the word probably originated from a word for “dung” (see http://www.etymonline.com.))

It doesn’t matter how excited I get, how much I anticipate and dream about a thing, I know it’s going to be different than what I have in my head, but that doesn’t matter–I will enjoy myself, and not be disappointed, no matter what. I always do. (Well, unless things get canceled or something tragic/horrendous occurs.  Though even when things get canceled or I have to change plans, I can usually adapt to that as well.) So to take away the build-up, the excitement, the sleeplessness and furiously racing thoughts would be such a shame. And I just can’t do it, period.  Not in my make-up.

This week is going to be jam-packed. We drive to Chicago tonight. Hopefully there will be enough light for me to get some work done on my new ponytail for Onyx. I believe we are going to debut her at Kinky Kollege! So excited! (Oops, there I go again, lol.)  So I really want to get a new tail made for her (I have a shorter one that just isn’t quite right.)  W worked on a new harness for her, and I got some kick-ass boots for her too, so, she’s ready to come out and play, to get shown off, as am I.

Tomorrow I work from the hotel room (real work, not the kind I posted about over on Wanton Wednesday, though I have a feeling (hoping) there will be a fair bit of “working girl” play going on as well. lol) Then W has arranged for me to…meet…a friend of his. I believe I shall be tied and gagged for this meeting, or for at least part of it.  So you can guess what sort of “meeting” it is.  After that, we meet an acquaintance from Twisted Tryst and her friend for dinner and play afterward.  This is kind of new to me–I facilitated and instigated this part. I’m a little anxious about it–we’re all total strangers to each other, to be honest, but W and I both liked her at TT and she and I have kept in touch via IM, so…we’ll see.

Friday is the start of Kinky Kollege.  Ad gets in around 1pm.  And I am hopefully going to meet up with another blogger friend, the oh-so-sexy, ultimate shoe-slut, LongDistanceSub! Another friend and one-time play partner will also be there with his new submissive, and of course our friend BadBeast, that we went to TT with and that I had the lovely anal hook scene with at the last KK and his wife will be there.  He said he hopes I have room on my “dance card” for a scene with him, as he has some “ideas.”  ~delicious shiver~  I hope I do too!  The guys have what sounds like a fun scene planned for that night.  It incorporates something that Ad has always wanted to do, but if he does, requires some actual planning on my and their parts, so, though the guys are plan-phobic, I kind of bullied them into actually planning it out. Of course, if it happens the way it’s planned, we’ll all be shocked, I am sure, but at least we’ll have the right set-up in case there’s a chance. lol

Saturday I am doing a “shoe-centric” photo shoot with the luscious LongDistanceSub and some other women at KK, and possibly, maybe a more private one with just her and I too. Shoes, sexy lingerie, hot women and a camera–what could be better? Hmm, maybe some rope? ;-) And Saturday night is more play. Play play play play play!!!!! ~giggle bounce~

Sunday I am off to Baltimore for my conference. I opted to bring…sexy business attire for this one. I have…thoughts…of possibly moving a bit outside my comfort zone. Maybe even ~gasp~) hooking up with someone out there.  I’ve never actually picked someone up that way on a business trip…but damn, knowing how hard it would make W, well, I may just try.  Now, no pressure from ya’ll out there in the peanut gallery, though!  If it happens, it does.  But I’ll be sure to share all the details if it does. ;-)

Okay, well, that’s it for now. Hopefully I will have time to update a couple times this weekend, and if not then, surely next week!

Oh, and in case you’re wondering, I did find the original song I was looking for:


My Night So Far

October 5, 2010

Pampering, including:

  • warm salt bath
  • several orgasms
  • glass of wine
  • dinner made for me
  • ice cream
  • warm fuzzy socks
  • candles

Kinky stuff, including:

  • being shaved
  • being given a nice, gentle enema
  • getting fucked in the ass with my new silver wand
  • having golf balls shoved inside me

Getting fucked, including:

  • golf balls in my pussy
  • from behind
  • in the ass
  • with Baldy

And now we’re playing Scrabble.

Oh, and I forgot to remove the golf balls so I get to get them taken out later.  More fun!

Life is good.

Edit:  This just in: I just played a 7-letter “z” word on a double/double. One-hundred and twenty-two points. Oh YEAH.

A stellar night so far, wouldn’t you say?


Funny things my kids say…

September 13, 2010

So we all know about my snotty-faced, allergy-infested self.  I’m sniffly, sneezy, red-eyed and miserable–and oh so attractive.  (rolling eyes) So tonight, on the couch, snuggling up to Ad after having napped off my exhaustion from a sleepless night, he chuckles.

“What’s funny?” I say.

“You just make me happy,” he replies. “You’re so snuggly and sweet and, I don’t know, endearing.”

My daughter, sitting on the other end of the couch, says, without missing a beat, “Yeah, because allergies are so endearing.”

And the BoyChild says from across the room, “If you think allergies are endearing, my mother is the woman for you.”

Yeah, gotta love my kids.

Here’s another endearing thing about me: I have a big toenail that’s going to come off. (O-M-G, I know! Sooo sexy! I am just a big ball of sexy this week!)  It happened because I stupidly wore my too small hiking shoes on a hike my daughter and I had taken, damaging my toenail to the point where it is now lifting and certainly going to come off eventually.

And I can’t keep from messing with it.

Ad notices and grabs my hands to stop me.

“Do we have to put cones on your hands?” the daughter says.  This garners much hilarity for the three of them, as they mime my attempts to manage household tasks with giant plastic cones on my hands.

And then, when we are talking (between sneezes) about my birthday plans, The Missy says, “So, Mom, did you ask Ad for a pony for your birthday?”

And I think about spending all day emailing W back and forth about ponygirl gear, and finding the perfect name for Black Pony, and I blush and grin and catch Ad’s eye. And open my mouth and almost say, “No, but I get to be a pony for my birthday!”

Actually, I don’t. But close enough.


Lost & Found

September 9, 2010

Recently I confessed to W that I have lost three sets of tit collars.  Three!  As if he didn’t know. “I know,” he answered laconically, with barely suppressed exasperation in his voice.  They are a pain-in-the-ass to make, time-consuming and tedious–and I am obviously a really sucky girlfriend for being careless with them.  And really, I love to wear them.  They are like my own special, hidden jewelry from W. So I felt pretty awful.

Until this morning, when I opened up the side pocket in my gym bag and found them!  Only one pair–but it’s a start. So I am wearing them today at work, just because.

What I am not wearing is panties. I forgot to bring them into the gym with me.  Tight jeans, multiple labia piercings and no panties = ouchie!  All day.  Penance for losing two sets of tit collars? Perhaps.  At least W will be amused. He once confessed to me that while I was so uncomfortably going through the whole labia-piercing-healing process, it amused him greatly to think of me all day at work, unable to sit comfortably, unless I was on a blow-up hemorrhoid ring.  And he claims not to be a sadist.

I also have newly painted toenails.  After an email conversation yesterday with him, I figured I’d better do them.

Me:  I just looked down at my toes and realized I have no toenail polish on.  I am lost without you to give me reasons to do such things. ;-)

Him: LOL…I suppose I should find someone for you to fuck after work in the next week or two. Perhaps you should put polish on just in case.

Ain’t he just a riot!

I had a wonderful workout this morning at my new gym. I have always liked going to the Y.  Supporting an organization I believe in is part of why I always sign up with them every fall when my allergies hit.  I also figured they were priced about the same as any gym.  But when my coworkers joined this gym, and told me what they paid–I realized that is NOT so. I was paying 3x what I am at the new place, and the new place has ALL free classes, classes at the time I need them, plus is open 24 hours!  And (I know this is a ridiculous thing to think is important, but it is) the new place has a locker/shower room that isn’t like a high school locker room.  I love it!

And last in the lost and found column is that I also found a pair of my sunglasses that had gone missing.  I am still missing one pair from the Twisted Tryst weekend, but at least I found the others!

Okay, off to actually do some work….


Back to “Real Life”

September 2, 2010

Or what constitutes real life. Sometimes the disconnect between my kink/poly life, the person I am and the life I lead outside the walls of my office, is huge and uncomfortable.

Why can’t I be naked and in chains at work??

But no, seriously, why can’t I mention W and Ad in the same breath, claim them as my partners, be open about at least that part of my life? It’s wearying, to be honest.  Having to sit at a luncheon for one of the girls that just got engaged, listening to them prattle on about the size of diamonds and the length of a veil, about dress fittings and all the thousands of details that go into planning this one, overrated day…  I don’t mind sharing that with them, really I don’t, we all have things that excite us, but I want to be able to share my life, too. My ups and downs and joys and the real me.  My two men that mean so much to me, that bring me such complete and utter joy & contentment.

(sigh)

Anyway. Been back from camp for a few days now and settling back in. Doing some writing over on PoJ about my adventures while there and some processing that those adventures caused. It was interesting to me yesterday, as I wrote both those posts, how I made a very carefully considered choice about which I would post first.  The first post, about our first night there, was hot and sexy. I wrote it for W more than anything else, because I wanted him to be able to relive it, and to read my reactions to it, in it. “Write me word pictures,” he said, because we don’t have any photos the weekend. And so I did. It was the truth of what happened, but it was also carefully crafted to tell the story in a way that I knew would please him, and hopefully, make him hot all over again.

The second post was more mine, more about my own, personal internal journey.  I wasn’t sure he would like it so much.  Not because he doesn’t like reading about my internal meanderings, but because…what I have inside is sometimes contradictory to (maybe) what we are supposed to be about, or (maybe) what he wants us to be about. I am always anxious before I post those kinds of thoughts. He has never given me reason to be anxious, he has always been supportive and understanding and appreciative…but it’s an emotional edge for me, to confess these thoughts and feelings.

So I made the very deliberate decision to post the hot one first, knowing he would read it while I was at work, and probably respond to it.  And to post the other one later in the day, when maybe he wouldn’t read it right away, or at least until after I had left for the day. The reality is that it probably doesn’t matter when I post them, but it makes a difference in my mind, gives me breathing space, to do it that way. It wasn’t until I had posted both yesterday though that I realized what I had done, and the reasons.

Interesting how a mind works, isn’t it?

I had a fun moment this morning with Ad. I was unpacking my suitcase from the weekend, trying to find a favorite pair of underwear, and I pulled out my “brown pony” outfit. I had brought it with me to wear to one of the theme nights at camp, “How the West Was Hung.”   But while we were there W got out a black leather posture collar and my friend B gave me a thick black leather belt, and along with the black reins and black & silver bridle that W made for me, I knew I had to be a black pony instead.  So I wore a black leather skirt, black and red corset and heels with the collar and belt. It was…pretty cute.  And damn, I LOVE my bridle.  Anyway.  As I was pulling out the brown outfit, I was nattering on about how I thought I should be a brown pony next time instead of a black pony, and should I get different boots, and blah blah blah, and Ad said, “A black pony?” and so, back turned to him, I started describing all the differences in Brown Pony and Black Pony, going on and on in the minute detail that is so important to me…when I looked over my shoulder to see him choking back laughter.

“You really don’t care, do you?” I said.

He laughed. “No, you’re hot in whatever you wear.  It’s just so cute to hear you telling me all these little details!”

Funny guy.

Oh, here’s a visual for you.  This is Brown Pony. Brown Pony is a wild pony, and needs taming (and the occasional whipping) to keep her in line. I don’t have a picture of Black Pony, but although she is unschooled and skittish, she is much more in hand than Brown Pony.  Brown Pony is a mustang, hot-blooded and wild, just brought in off the range; Black Pony is a well-bred, delicate creature, untrained but ready (and eager) to learn and be put through her paces and shown off.

You see why “real life” is so boring??


Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 32 other followers