Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Twas the Night before Christmas


Twas The Night Before Christmas
~ Author doesn’t wish to be named


'Twas the night before Christmas,
and boy it was neat
The kids were both gone,
and my wife was in heat

The doors were all bolted,
and the phone off the hook
It was time for some nooky,
by hook or by crook.

Momma in her teddy, and I in the nude
Had just hit the bedroom and reached for the lube
When out on the lawn there arose such a cry,
That I lost my boner and poor momma went dry.

Up to the window I sprang like an elf,
Tore back the shade while she played with herself.
The moon on the crest of the snowman we'd built,
Showed a broom up his ass, clean up to the hilt.

When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a rusty old sleigh and eight mangy reindeer.
With a fat little driver, half out of his sled,
A sock in his ear, and a bra on his head.

Sure as I'm speaking, he was as high as a kite.
And he yelled to his team, but it didn't sound right.
Whoa Shithead, whoa Asshole, whoa Stupid, whoa Putz,
Either slow down this rig or I'll cut off your nuts.

Look out for the lamp post, and don't hit the tree,
Quit shaking the sleigh, 'cause I gotta pee.
They cleared the old lamp post, the tree got a rub,
Just as Santa leaned out and threw up on my shrub.

And then from the roof we heard such a clatter,
As each little reindeer now emptied his bladder.
I was donning my jacket to cover my ass,
When down the chimney Santa came with a crash.

His suit was all smelly with perfume galore,
He looked like a bum and he smelled like a whore.
That was some brothel, he said with a smile,
The reindeer are pooped, and I'll just stay here awhile.

He walked to the kitchen, himself poured a drink,
Then whipped out his pecker and pissed in the sink.
I started to laugh, my wife smiled with glee,
The old boy was hung nearly down to his knee.

Back in the den,
Santa reached in his sack,
But his toys were all gone,
and some new things were packed.

The first thing he found was a pair of false tits,
The next was a handgun with a penis that spits.
A box filled with condoms was Santa's next find,
And a six pair of panties, the edible kind.

A bra without nipples,
a penis extension,
And several other things that
I shouldn't even mention.

A cock ring, a G-string, and all types of oil,
A dildo so long, it lay in a coil.
This stuff ain't for kids, Mrs. Santa will shit,
So I'll leave 'em here, and then I'll just split.

He filled every stocking and then took his leave,
With one tiny butt plug tucked under his sleeve.
He sprang to his sleigh, but his feet were like lead,
Thus he fell on his ass and broke wind instead.

In time he was seated, took the reins of his hitch,
Take me home Rudolph, this night's been a bitch!
The sleigh was near gone when we heard Santa shout,
The best thing about sex is that it never wears out!


Sunday, December 6, 2009

Fibro





This cold weather is playing havoc on my body, my muscles and joints are beyong angry wtih me and my energy is spent quickly trying to overcome the spasms/aches/etc...

Thursday, December 3, 2009

Wrong Expectations


I hate being a submissive because…
~Topic Provided by
Submissive Journal Prompts
I hate being submissive when every guy expects me to enjoy waiting on Someone hand and foot, doing every ounce of domestic work (from cooking and cleaning to picking up his nasty underwear from the floor and taking out the trash). I don’t understand why a male expects a female to transform into their mother?! I have mentioned this in previous posts, but I am NOT the kind of girl that wants to come home from working all day to become a happy maid, so he doesn’t have to get out of that chair, and then leap into his bed as an energetic slut. If I have one more guy ask me to be his “domestic and sexual slave”, I’m going to scream! Why can’t he buy an old woman grandma type and a hooker? And leave me alone.


If both people in a relationship are working, then I believe that chores at home should be shared. This is the year 2009! If He is not working, he can bet his happy ass I won't be burning my candle at both ends, working and then coming home to clean up after him. Having a vagina does not mean I am the only one that is allowed to touch cleaning products in the house! If I wanted someone to pick up after, I would have had a child. I want a real Man, Someone who knows that His business/domestic actions are not limited to a mythological masculine stereotype.
I think my whole problem with the thoughts of being the only person in the house doing any form of cleaning and having a maternal role over my Partner... is that both instances make me feel my Partner is both lazy and he doesn’t care one way or the other. So how can I trust myself, my heart my mind my body, to a “guy” who is so lazy he can’t do anything around the house or truly doesn’t care about me or our living environment? How is he going to be there for me when I need him? He wouldn’t be able to function on his own, or if I were to have a really bad flare-up (of my fibromyalgia)? Plus it doesn't allow things I do to become a service to Someone, when it turns into chores that I have to do because he feels he is above them.


In my mind, that whole concept (of domestic tasks being women’s work) is stupid and unrealistic. Things would be different if my Owner/Master/Daddy decided that He could support me and my needs, and it would be best for me not to work... then yes I would take care of things at home. But to assume that these are my life goals and my only ambition, denies/ignores everything educated and intelligent about me. Are these kind of guys so afraid of a real women they will do anything to "keep her at home", sheltered away from the world that she doesn't realize she could do better?


Yes I want to do things to please my Owner/Master/Daddy, and yes I want to make things easier for Him and make Him happy... But for SOMEONE TO EXPECT IT FROM ME JUST BECAUSE I AM SUBMISSIVE, is what ticks me off to no end!

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Thanksgiving 09

This year for Thanksgiving, I want to look back on 2009 and turn negative experiences into positive aspects that have improved my year. So here goes.


  1. I was wrongly terminated and kicked out of my apartment in January. But it gave me an opportunity to move back home, get to know my family again, and find a job that I truly enjoy. I also have more free time and am able to relax more often, which allows my fibromyalgia to remain managable.
  2. In February I developed severe bacterial pneumonia and was hospitalized for a week, almost died (literally) from three days with a 104* fever. Yet it reminded me how precious that life is and that I truly need to listen to my own heart, my own gut, and begin thinking of what is best for me again... I started thinking about what I need in relationships as well as in friendships... And that has made a big difference for me. I feel more free and less in the control of my past experiences.
  3. I spent the summer breaking my back, taking care of my Dad. Keeping his secret of physical aggression, not telling anyone about the abuse he dished out to us... The physical attack wasn't near as bad as the emotional and mental assault... But now I know that I am strong enough to do what needs to be done, and stubborn enough to keep at it until Someone gets the care that he/she needs to get better. Plus I feel that I understand my desire for a Daddy/Master aspect Partner/dyanamic.
  4. I've had my heart broken, but now I know more about what I am looking for. I always knew the ultimate 'no-no's that I would not tolerate, but I have learned new things that i do not want to compromise on. A relationship would be nice, but there are certain assurances that I must have before I can surrender completely.
  5. I am continueing to listen to my body and trying to focus more on obeying the physical needs that I have instead of putting myself on the backburner to care for others. If someone truly cares about me, not only will he/she want what is best for me but he/she will want me to care for myself in the way that I need to have less pain.


Wishing everyone a very safe and
Happy Spanksgiving!

(<-- one thing I desired that I have yet to experience this year. Though there is always a month left to hope!) ;-)

Friday, November 20, 2009

November 20 2009

This whole week has been... sigh... And this evening, on the way home from a very difficult task... Overhead was a flicker of hope, that both made me smile and tear up at the same time. A faint rainbow played peekaboo over the mountain/tree line.

Yes I took it personally... as a sign that things will work themselves out... all I have to do is find a way to breathe....

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Secrets...


They say that when secrets are brought out into the open, it is supposed to release the pain of holding onto it so tightly... I don't think I agree with that. Last night, a lot of family secrets came to the surface... and I've felt this uneasy heaviness ever since.

There is no glory in honesty if it is destructive. And no shame in dishonesty if its goal is to offer grace. ~ MJ Rose

There are things I don’t want to talk about, things that I’m afraid can change my views on certain people forever. I want to love those close to me fiercely and I don’t want to push them away... I don’t want to regret letting my own pride or built up anger keep me distant from them. What good would it do to blab it all over town, its done and over with by now.

Some secrets about myself I want to reveal to Someone who I trust not to judge me. Other secrets, I fear saying out loud because that will make them more real and recent, no longer a painful memory I have managed to push back, but an actual event in the present sense… That I would be forced to relive. That I would force someone else to experience also. I guess it is easier to forget when no one else can remember...

Nothing makes us so lonely as our secrets. ~ Paul Tournier

Friday, November 13, 2009

Paraskavedekatriaphobia


Yes, it is today. I have never been one to have a fear of Friday 13th. If anything, they have brought me luck. But many people live in fear for 24 hours that everything will come to a devastating traumatic end. I don’t mind Friday 13th’s, even though I don’t like the number 13. It isn’t because it is “bad luck”, I just don’t like odd numbers or numbers not divisible by 4.

I am superstitious, but not excessively. I knock on wood for good luck, don’t split poles if I can help it, listen to my instincts, cross my fingers for luck, feel that intense cold chills are a sign of things to come, and have a lucky number. But I’m not as excessive in my beliefs as other people that I know. I have a friend who will exit a house/building only in along the path that she entered it! Even if she has to go all the way back through a building to come out the same way she went in.

Some other old wives tales that I follow are:

  1. Hiccups are caused by someone who dislikes you complaining to someone else.

  2. If you lance a blister or boil under a full moon it will be less painful and heal quicker.

  3. You must stir a pot of tea clockwise to bring peace to your house.

  4. When my ears are burning, I know someone is talking about me

  5. If you kill a granddaddy longlegs it will rain!

  6. The deeper the ladybird's color, the better luck it brings.

  7. Drinking two glasses of water can take away a headache.

  8. Peppermint lozenges can clear stuffy noses.

  9. To clear a blemish, put a dab of Vaseline on the pimple and leave it overnight.

  10. Sleeping on anger will plant the seed of resentment.

While I try not to bring these beliefs into relationships, I think that our past experiences will cause us to search out ‘signs’ for either good things to come or impending doom. I do have one major relationship ‘tale’ that I believe in strongly ~ I think if the Man contacts me at some point during the day, either by email or text, that He is thinking about me... and that will help ensure communication into the relationship. I also think while some secrets are poison to the relationship, some revelations are the equivalent of shooting yourself in the foot.

Hmm... it appears I am more superstitious than I thought!


Saturday, November 7, 2009

Bewitched... and Unforgiving


I enjoy watching those old Bewitched reruns. I liked the special affects, most of the story lines, and I crack up at Endora and Aunt Clara. I never cared for the way that Darrin treated Samantha though; I don’t like how he tried to compartmentalize her into something that would fit into his view of the world. Yet I find myself doing just that, trying to break myself up into smaller pieces as if to make it easier for Someone to understand me and get to know me. When I watch the show, I wonder how Samantha can allow Darrin to ignore a vital part of who she is, allowing him to restrict her to something that goes against her nature. I tend to feel sorry for Samantha... yet this time, I saw myself in her actions! I don't want to do that anymore, I want to present a whole person to the world, not just what I think they want to see.

I watched an episode of ‘Bewitched’ today, “
Marriage, Witch’s Style” , where Serena enters a computer dating service to be matched up with a mortal man to marry. She meets her perfect match, a man named Franklyn Blodgett! They have the same sense of humor, enjoy the same things, and of course it is love at first sight. Things go bad quickly when she must reveal to him she is a witch... because he is a warlock! Everything falls apart after that because of the higher standards each have as a magical being over what they expect from a mere mortal. I thought about how often this happens in the world of power exchange.

Some people seem to be more patient and forgiving of errors and imperfections when they feel the other person is vanilla and ‘learning’. However, no slack is given if the person has experience being either dominant or submissive. It is as if some people expect everyone to be at a higher level of perfection than even they are! Some are so quick to judge, chastise, and dismiss anyone who doesn’t act the way he/she expects them to.

In the episode, Serena and Franklin missed an opportunity for a relationship... it makes me wonder how many prospects have I discarded because I made a mountain out of a molehill? At the same time, if it is something that means a lot to me, I shouldn’t be expected to cast it away. If I truly want to be accepted as a whole person, I have to learn to embrace the whole person... taking the good with the bad. Perhaps in balance, I will find peace.

Friday, October 30, 2009

Tears


It has happened again.

At least this time, I felt something was wrong... Perhaps I am finally learning to see the signs? Yet it doesn’t hurt any less...

Ultimately I know it will be for the best. Things with MrFamiliar made things extremely complicated! Especially the way that MathMan was pushing me to explore things with MrF. I have stayed confused this month, between MathMan encouraging me to invest in the relationship and MrF telling me that he doesn’t mind I have MathMan in my life, as long as he [MrF] is #1.

This morning’s horoscope:
It's time to move past the hurt of painful memories so you can be more available to experience the joyful possibilities of today. But this doesn't mean forgetting about what previously happened; rather, it's about stepping outside your personal history so you can see your life from a more cosmic perspective. Avoiding your emotions isn't a viable strategy because you'll end up feeling irritable without knowing why. However, letting go of old attachments allows you to live more fully in the present.
I think I am growing a bit selfish in my old age. With this brief experience with MrF, I have reassured myself that I must have an emotional/mental connection with Someone...
Plus I don't think I realized how lonely I have been...

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Fading Like a Flower (Every Time You Leave)

A familiar Friend asked me to look into this song... because it makes Him think of what I have gone through as an adult. I have to say, that it feels so familiar...
Sung by Roxette
In a time where the sun descends alone
I ran a long, long way from home
To find a heart that's made of stone
I will try, I just need a little time
To get your face right out of my mind
To see the world through different eyes

Every time I see you oh I try to hide away
But when we meet it seems I can't let go
Every time you leave the room
I feel I'm fading like a flower

Tell me why, when I scream there's no reply
When I reach out there's nothing to find
When I sleep I break down and cry, cry yeah

Every time I see you oh I try to hide away
But when we meet it seems I can't let go
Every time you leave the room
I feel I'm fading like a flower

Fading like a rose, fading like rose
Beaten by the storm
Talking to myself, getting washed by the rain
It's such a cold, cold town

Oh, it's such a cold town

Every time I see you oh I try to hide away
But when we meet it seems I can't let go
Every time you leave the room
I feel I'm fading like a flower

Every time I see you oh I try to hide away
But when we meet it seems I can't let go
Every time you leave the room
I feel I'm fading like a flower
.


--
* The great thing in the world is not so much where we stand, as in what direction we are moving. ~ Oliver Wendell Holmes *

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Lunch with Master


Master and I spent part of the day together today. At first I was really nervous, I guess I’m still waiting on some level for the other shoe to hit the floor. But it went really well. I love spending time with Him, I like how He touches me, that He allows me to touch Him. For the first time along my adult journey, its rare for someone to want to touch me outside of being in the middle of sex. Don’t get me wrong, please, I do want Master… I love the feel of His hands on my body, and want more...

I like how I feel with Him and how He treats me. I’ve never really had a partner before who was good to me, and Master is. I am not even going to offer the argument that our relationship is still new and things could change, because the way that Master listens to me and wants to know about me has been there from day one... even when we were just friends. I do have feelings for Him, and they become stronger each time I see Him. I’m not sorting that out right now, I just want to enjoy time with Him. I do want to please Master, very much... and I can’t wait to see Him again.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Control


Last night an old Friend (YahooGuy) messaged me on yahoo. It was good to talk with him again, it has been a couple years. Yet our conversation brought back memories of things I once desired... He is heavily into physical control, sensory deprivation, and strict protocol. And at one time, so was I.


Parts of me miss those physical expressions of control, but I think what I miss the most was the peace that comes within that power. The control that MathMan exerts over me now is different. YG didn’t care much to hear my thoughts, feelings, or expressions. He feels a slave’s mouth has but one use, for His pleasure. If I had begged for a moment to express myself to Him, He would allow it. Yet MathMan wants to know everything going on in my head – that is what pleases Him. I like that, even though it is new. I really think that as MathMan and I progress, I have confidence that opening up to Him will be easier for me, and then He will know everything about me... and perhaps that will be a sweeter form of control.


As much as I dislike the books, there are a few selections that resonate with me. One that comes to mind this morning, is:



He looked on her intently. He studied her. He gave her great attention. She turned her head to one side, her wrists secured in many turns of the binding fiber, her fists clenched....on earth many men did not even know their wives...Never, truly had they seen them. But a MathMan will know every inch, and care for every inch, of one of his slave girls. He will know every hair, every sweet blemish of her. In a way she is nothing to him, for she is only a slave. But in another way she is very important to him. She is one of his women. He will know her. He will want to know her completely, every inch of her body, every inch of her mind. Nothing less will satisfy him. She is his property. He will choose to know his property thoroughly. ~ Hunters of Gor

Friday, September 11, 2009

Remembering

Of course I remember what I was doing. I was on campus, coming out of an upper level Human Resource class, my cell phone had three voicemails on it from my then-chain-brother. The whole campus was in panic, people calling home, going home, leaving Knoxville in fear that Oak Ridge would be next. I obeyed the messages that called me home. Everything was errily silent. A couple friends came to the house, my Owner was almost in a catonic state after hearing the news, pixie was there worried of her then-Master. The day passed so slowly, tvs and radios on, praying the phone would ring with news of Peoples safety...

I didn't allow myself to think about what was going on in New York, or the horror those Americans were experiencing... I had to be the strong person and take care of everyone else. (I guess some things never change.) It was much later in the next year, before I begin to really think about it. This morning I woke with it heavy on my mind, and when I found the story of Michael Hingson, I knew I had to share it.

Mr. Hingson is a blind man who worked on the 80th floor of the first building, and his guide dog, Roselle, who lead him safely down the stairs and got him safely home, even in the midst of the second building being attacked.


Roselle
by Michael Gaither

On that 9-11 morning when the planes came down,
He was sitting as his desk 80 stories from the ground.
We saw it on the tv, and though he didn’t see a thing,
When they hit, he reached for her, and she looked up at him.


Roselle the guide dog, she was sleeping on the floor,
She stood up and knew it was time to hit the door.
Roselle didn't panic or hesitate at all,
She just took his hand and led him down the hall.

We all need our own Roselle sometimes.
We all need our own Roselle sometimes.
A friend who'll lead you from the dark into the light,
We all need our own Roselle sometimes.

They went down a stairwell through smoke and broken glass,
She kissed the firemen as they ran quickly past.
When he felt the other tower fall he just prayed they’d be all right,
Then by the grace of a dog - they walked outside.

Outside in the wreckage he wondered where to go,
Then this yellow lab walked him to a cab.
That took 'em both back home.

I've heard angels walk among us, and I'd say it's true,
'cause I know one walks on four legs,
And wags hers tail when she looks at you.

We all need our own Roselle sometimes.
We all need our own Roselle sometimes.
A friend who'll lead you from the dark into the light,
We all need our own Roselle sometimes.



Saturday, August 29, 2009

Overwhelmed



I’m so tired of the drama. It hasn’t been manufactured drama, but natural issues that are coming up. With everything going on, my fibro has been kicking my ass.

So I know how that donkey feels.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

First Love



Like an old photograph
Time can make a feeling fade
But the memory of a first love
Never fades away.

~Tim McGraw


I don't think that we ever forget our first loves... whether they are from our puppy love years or as an adult, there will always be something special about hearing from him.

In high school, I was so afraid of being stuck in a small town that I wouldn’t let myself get close to the guys I grew up with. But in college, I met this guy who charmed his way past my walls, sweet talked himself deep into my heart. And for the first time, I was in love. Even though that was (going on) ten years ago, hearing from him always makes me smile. So I was happy when he called tonight, the walk down memory lane was fun.


Reminds me... what I hope to find again, a natural sort of togetherness that can’t be explained.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

In the flesh



Nervous.
Scared.
Apprehensive.
Anxious.

“Hi girl.”

Suddenly shy.
Jumpy.

Heart is pounding.
Excited.

His hand in my hair...

Knees are weak.
Heart is racing.
Blood is surging through my body.

Every ounce is aching.

And let’s just say, it got better from here.

Yes, you can say that I have officially been introduced to MathMan.

Friday, August 14, 2009

Always Time for Coffee

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him.

When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was. So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous "yes". The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

"Now," said the professor, as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things -- your family, your children, your health, your friends, and your favorite passions -- things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, your car. The sand is everything else -- the small stuff". "If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you.

Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18 holes. There will always be time to clean the house, and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand".

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented.

The professor smiled. "I'm glad you asked," he said. "It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a cup of coffee with a friend."
So... anyone for drinks? ;)


Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Quiet

90 days…
2 months, 29 days...
12 weeks (rounded down)…
2160 hours...
129,600 minutes…
7,776,000 seconds.

That’s how long we have been trying to get my Dad help. That was how long I have been juggling caring for him at home, working during the days, managing my fibromyalgia, all while trying to maintain my own sanity.

The dogs barking at nurses going in and out…
Therapists traipsing through the house…
Phone ringing from family calling to check on him…
Ambulances littering the front yard, slam of their doors and clinks of their stretchers...
The tv blaring at all hours because he cannot sleep.
Coughing that lasts all night from trying to catch his breath...
Constant usage of the laundry machines to keep him in clean bed clothes...
Frustrated arguing echoes at night…
Creaking and rattling of the hospital bed.
Fighting and campaigning with doctors, agencies, social workers, begging, pleading for help…
Crashing sounds of loss of balance, exhausted groans of those picking him back up.
Emergency calls from home causing me to leave work early...
Dozens of hours spent in ER's, desperate for help.
Muscles aching from strain, screaming from positioning him.

Late tonight, help was there. Like a beam of peace fighting through the storms.

And now... all’s quiet.
Cold and empty.

Eerily calm.
Silence bounces off the walls.

It’s... different.
I’m not sure that I like this.
I miss him already.



Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Friends

It’s all running together. Nurses coming in, therapists leaving, phone ringing, begging Doctors, being sent home from emergency rooms, Dad falling, Mom getting hurt, ambulances in the driveway, rescue squads stomping up the steps, gurneys that aren’t stable, and everything else...

Some people have called to check on me/him/us... One family in particular have touched my heart beyond anything I could have ever hoped for. Bringing dinner one night so I didn’t have to cook, helping transport Dad to various hospitals in hopes of getting him admitted. They even came over when he would fall and I didn’t have the strength to pick him back up alone...


Once again, the nurses were telling us to take him to the Emergency Room. This time, I was completely exhausted. With one text message from Mom, they showed up... and helped us get him to the facility that finally admitted him.


On the way to the hospital, we heard this song on the radio... it will forever remind me of this very special family have will forever have a place in my heart. I cannot thank them enough.

Find Out Who Your Friends Are
You find out who your friends are
Somebody's gonna drop everything
Run out and crank up their car
Hit the gas, get there fast
Never stop to think 'what's in it for me?' or 'it's way too far'
They just show on up with their big old heart
You find out who your friends are

(This is not to say that anyone who wasn't in a position
to be there physically is not my friend, it is just a
way for me to thank this family in particular...
for everything.)

Sunday, August 9, 2009

30



My next thirty years I’m gonna settle all the scores,
Cry a little less, laugh a little more.
Find a world of happiness without the hate and fear,
Figure out just what I’m doing here.
In my next thirty years.

~ Tim McGraw


Sunday, July 12, 2009

Sounds like Life

I’m BEYOND exhausted. I’m in fibro related pain. I’m sleep deprived. I’m emotionally drained and there is still more to do. Dad is getting worse. Work is non-stop. My family is... I just wish I had help, a little more help... some kind of help. Support comes in the oddest of fashions, for example… this song has helped a lot. Its better than nothing.

Sounds Like Life To Me by Darryl Worley

Sounds like life to me it ain’t no fantasy
It’s just a common case of everyday reality
Man I know it’s tough but you gotta suck it up
To hear you talk you’re caught up in some tragedy
It sounds like life to me

Sounds like life to me plain old destiny
Yeah the only thing for certain is uncertainty
You gotta hold on tight just enjoy the ride
Get used to all this unpredictability
Sounds like life

Man I know its tough but you gotta suck it up
To hear you talk you’re caught up in some tragedy
Sounds like life to me
Sounds like life

Click here to listen.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Being Interesting


He looked on her, intently. He studied her. He gave her great attention. She turned her head to one side, her wrists secured in many turns of the binding fiber, her fists clenched. I knew that on earth many men did not even know their wives. They did not truely look upon them. Never, truly, had they seen them. But a Gorean master will know every inch, and care for every inch, of one of his slave girls. He will know every hair, every sweet blemish of her. In a way she is nothing to him, for she is only a slave. But in another way she is very important to him. She is one of his women. He will know her. He will want to know her completely, every inch of her body, every inch of her mind. Nothing less will satisfy him. She is his property. He will choose to know his property thoroughly.
~Hunters of Gor, page 145

...the slave girl is not simply someone with whom the man lives; she is very special to him; she is a treasured possession; he owns her; he wants to know her; profoundly and deeply; the background, history, the mind, the intelligence, the appetites, the nature and disposition of his lovely article of property; this knowledge, of course, puts her more at his mercy; by making it possible to manipulate her feelings, exploit weaknesses, drop asides, ect., she in the helpless condition of slavery, it gives him more power over her.
~Tribesmen of Gor, page 42


I love this quote, I like the idea of this, but I fear the actual intense "know everything" connection... fear it in a good way. I know that I need a more positive view of myself, but I want so badly to please that... I cannot help but wonder if I will be able to. MathMan and I talk about this a good bit, I am thankful for His patience with me. He tells me that I worry too much, but I'm don't know how to stop. Pixie and I agree that neither of us want Someone to be a mindreader, but at least being interested in hearing what we have to say or what we think, etc. I like that about MathMan... I like that a lot. Yes I want His opinion. Yes I want His views. But He also helps me... anchor myself in a certain sense. Which is a very very good thing.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Whew

Grace and Smokey came up this morning, spent the day taking care of Dad, and worked on the house. When I came home, everything looked great, something good was in the oven, and Dad was resting. So all in all, it went good. I am very thankful for their help, and hope that it allows me to go to bed rather early tonight.

~elana

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Responses

You cannot tailor-make the situations in life but you can tailor-make the attitudes to fit those situations.
~ Zig Ziglar


This expression has really been put to the test lately. I have spent a good bit of time, over the last week, biting my tongue with certain family members. As I blogged earlier this week, a lot has been going on in my world. However tonight, I found out that Grace and Smokey are coming up tomorrow to be with Dad, so I can return to work. I am grateful, truly, that they are actually going to come up and help... But at the same time, this week has been very difficult because of the emotional responses various conversations with each of them have brought on.

With my fibromyalgia, I have to be cautious about how upset/worked up I allow myself to become. For a long time, I didn't think I was making progress until this last crisis. I have been able to keep myself from spiraling negatively down that rabbit hole, then again I have had a new form of support this time around... that helped more than anyone will ever know. MathMan was there. Not physically, but emotionally, He was there to listen to me, offer support, and reminding me that I cannot change other people's choices. I hope that He knows how much it helped, and how much it meant to me.

To MathMan: Thank you Sir for being there for me...

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Domestic Distress


my Dad has been sick lately and I have been taking care of him, cleaning the house, cooking, fetching his iced water, helping my Mom with her daily things, and pretty much juggling a million things in addition to my job. Normally, my Dad does most of the domestic chores (such as cooking and dishes), while Mom and I help with other things, like laundry and picking up/vacuuming. This breakdown of chores is because Mom and I both work, while Dad is at home. Since he has been sick, 99.9% of the chores have fallen to me, even the part Mom used to help with. Oh and I have to take care of Dad too, checking on him, getting things for him, etc. I don't mind, I know he needs me right now. I know Mom is upset with what is going on with him, but to be honest... I'm getting damned tired.

This experience has confirmed to me that I have no desire/intention to being a domestic slave EVER again. Yes I did it once, a half dozen years ago, but that was because I was convinced that was all I have to offer Someone. I know differently now. Please allow me to say this loud and proud, working AND handling housekeeping shit is for the birds! I understand that housework must be done, but I don't understand the concept of only ONE person doing it. It isn't right, it isn't fair, and it isn't for me. Does this make me unslavelike? Probably, but I am being very honest and I think that is the most important part of serving Another.

Now that I think about it, there is a major difference between being One's slave and One's servant. Yes I desire to be under the control of Another, and if He chooses to have me clean His house, I will obey. But I don't feel it is something to be expected automatically. I used to, but I have been through so many partners that took advantage of that fact, that I don't want to be used in that fashion again. To me, service is about making His life easier/better, not about enabling His ability to be lazy and not do a damn thing. Part of ownership, whether it be house or slave, is responsibility. So wouldn't One be responsible for upkeep, maintenance, etc of the item in question? Wouldn't that include his house? For example, Grace is married to Smokey, who was domestically lazy. If she didn't get up and make him a sandwhich, he would go hungry. That is ridiculous! I don't want to do something for Someone because without me He would starve/parish, I want to do something for Him because it pleases Him and I because I want to do it.

I do wish to please my Owner. I do wish to serve my Owner in the manner that will please Him. But I have come to realize that I do need certain consideration when it comes to my condition. Some girls may be able to be a very happy house mouse but I don't think I would flourish in that situation. I am a people person, and there are some fibro-days where I would not be able to do the chores required to keep a spotless house.

It is not that I am lazy or feel that I am superior to cleaning. It is just that with my fibromyalgia, my Owner will have to decide what He prefers... a clean house without having to lift a finger... or a willing eager girl in His bed. Because I lack the energy to do both.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

A Compass



To be completely woman you need a master, and in him a compass for your life. You need a man you can look up to and respect. If you dethrone him it's no wonder that you are discontented, and discontented women are not loved for long. ~Marlene Dietrich

This quote is so true! Pixie and I have talked about this many times, when we are with someone who isn't strong enough for us, to truly guide us, attitudes turn negative and sometimes nasty. I'm not the kind of girl to 'top from the bottom' but sometimes I do need to test the waters. I have to make sure that the person I am involved with, has a strong enough sense of self to stand toe-to-toe with me. I don't like guys who bend their will all the time, completely surrendering to whatever I want them to do. Sometimes it is important to compromise, but at his timing, not mine.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

What Makes a Man


What makes a man a man? A friend of mine once wondered. Is it his origins? The way he comes to life? I don't think so. It's the choices he makes. Not how he starts things... but how he decides to end them. — Agent John Meyers, Hellboy
Consistency and emotional/mental strength are two extremely important characteristics that I need in a Parnter. I don't understand overly feminine men. I don't get along with them and I tend to end up being the one in control. Not because I want the control, but because someone has to step up and be "the man". Don't get me wrong, I understand and embrace that everyone cannot be strong all the time, but when someone falls apart over something super minor ~ I lose faith that He will be able to be there for me when my world falls apart.

We all make bad choices, that is part of being human. But seeing things through and sticking with it, supporting the fact that one has made a decision, is the important part. Even if it involves changing our minds and turning things around... Follow through is a very attractive trait.


Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Seeing Pixie


I was able to spend some time with Pixie tonight! It never seems to matter how long we are apart, it never ‘feels’ like it. It was good to see her, and felt amazing to hear her laughing again. She’s had a rough bit of things lately, so we needed that snippet of time together.

Took her some bath bubbles, coloring books, and two kinds of crayons. Just offering a fun way for her to be her. :)

I love you pixie, was so much fun to see you!

P.S. I love that smoking hot black hair!!

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Needy Clingy


Needy
Clingy
Demanding
Unrealistic
Attention-whore
Manipulative
Bothersome
Distraction
Intrusive
Interrupting
Inconvenient
Pestering
Nuisance
Needy
Clingy

It’s amazing how two little words can bring up so many negative connotations, emotions, and that instant stomach tightening going to be sick feeling. It has been ingrained in me for as long as I can remember not to bother a person, just because I would like someone’s attention doesn’t mean I have the right to request it. This has been confirmed to me repeatedly in my relationships as an adult. Imagine my surprise when MathMan tells me that he LIKES needy/clingy. I don’t understand how that can be seen in a positive light, and I don’t like how disgusted it makes me feel with myself… because all I can see are these desperate attempts that beg for a moment of his notice, when my head is saying ‘if He wanted to talk to you stupid, he would talk to you! Leave Him alone, He’s busy.’

I hate when I am feeling those needy/clingy desires, that ache to be in constant contact, that need to be as close as possible… that overwhelming sense of aloneness that lingers overhead ~ as if my very life depended on hearing His voice. All I can hear are those old tapes, telling me inconvenient I am, what a bother I am being, and that I shouldn’t hassle Him or He will go on to someone who will give Him space.

My puppy had surgery recently, and when she got home she was up under me ALL of the time. I’ve never been the kind of girl who wants anyone up under my feet nor do I want to be up under someone’s feet all the time. I didn’t mind, I knew the spay had been traumatic for her and she was in pain, so I enjoyed her being close... I felt as though being near me might offer her comfort or reassurance, so I encouraged her. It felt good that she picked me to be close to, to follow around, and lay against. I enjoyed that quiet time with her, felt our bond strengthen. I didn’t realize it until a day or two later, when Pixie asked if the puppy was still being clingy... Yes she was, and surprisingly, I didn’t mind. Suddenly, I started thinking that maybe, some People do see needy/clingy in different ways... which of course made me think of MathMan… makes me very curious what He feels/thinks when the girl is ‘needy clingy’.


Thursday, June 18, 2009

whimpers


I'm having a fibro day. I'm emotional, my joints are swollen, my muscles are aching, I'm running a low grade fever and feel completely drained. Its not the worst that I have felt, but it's not the best either. The heat isn't helping, I think what is bothering me the most today are the dull aches and total fatigue. It seems with each flare-up, I seem to discover yet another aspect of this disorder. No two 'fibro days' are alike, for that I should be thankful... because some are worse than others. But a few things are consistent, I tend to be emotional, tired, and kins of clingy.




I found this webpage online, that lead me to a group of women called PolkaDotGirls, based in the UK. that are raising awareness of fibromyalgia. They created and sold a calendar for 2009, and the girls in each picture had on some form of yellow polkadot. The Director said the polkadots represent the fibromyalgia trigger points, and how they appear in pictures. I like the concept of using the dots like they have, and will do a bit more research to see if they have a 'civilian group' or if it has to be part of their organization.




Sunday, June 14, 2009

Listening



At the center of your being you have the answer; you know who you are and you know what you want. ~Folklore


I have always believed this in some sense, that in our guts we know what we need to do. I have trusted this for many big decisions that I have had to make. But what happens when we cannot hear the answers? I've always figured that was because it wasn't time or the right One or something along those lines... But now I'm not so sure...

I've been accused of hiding, withdrawing so far into myself that I cannot hear anything anymore... and I think its a valid description of the state I am in right now. Its not that I want to be alone or left alone... On the contary.

Maybe that is what I am learning right now, that even though I know I don’t need a partner, that its ok that I want one? Easier said than done, eh? Don’t get me wrong, I get asked out a good bit and know that I can attract someone... but when it comes to revealing my big secret, the guys tend to drop like flies. When they run, I blame myself... when they don’t run, I tend to think they are only deseperate for anyone at all.

I've always thought about what I wanted as a submissive/slave, but lately I have been thinking about what I want as a woman... Is it wrong to want to combine the two? Love and surrender? Or is that m fear talking, desiring love from Someone so that He won't hurt me... or would that open me up to His pain even more? Its hard to tell, and I can't exactly make out what my gut is telling me... All that I know now is that I want something real, need patience, and crave guidance... but other than that, or even looking at it as far as a potential partner... I'm hearing absolute silence. Almost as though my gut doesn't want anything at all? But my head knows that isn't true...

So maybe my Friend is right, I do need to focus on me, accepting and truly loving myself, getting myself back into focus... so that one day I can hear myself again?

'The Tear', drawn by MasterSketch,used with His permission.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Romance?

I've never been the mushy gushy romantic sappy type of girl. I am more of a realist. Things that I find romantic are simple, thoughtful, and productive... making sure that my car has gas, checking the water in my radiator... picking up my medication at the store when I am sick... send me a text or email that says He is thinking of me... or maybe just petting me a bit while we watch television or a movie.... I'm not the kind of girl that likes a million candles, hot bubble baths, towels from the dryer, and a personally written song about my body parts that rhyme.



I think the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, was this one day when it was storming... The guy I was involved with, went to Wal-Mart and bought me new windshield wiper blades because he knew mine were bad. He came over, put them on my car, sent me a text message that they were replaced. It was a cold rain, but it was more important to him that I was safe... I thought it was the sweetest thing ever.


Can romance exist between a Master and His slave? I don't really know. I don't believe the traditional pu$$y whipped crap can work, but maybe a more realistic productive form of that thoughtfulness? After all... isn't it part of taking care of His girl?


I have met some who feel that romance has no part in a Master/slave relationship, that it gives too much power to the girl... I don't see that. I spoke with someone recently who felt that it cannot, and that it would make him under her control. However, that person and I have very different views on what is romantic. Which is ok, everyone has their own opinions, thoughts, and feelings. :) I have a Friend who feels that it can exist, should exist, and takes work with both people involved in the power exchange.


I think that, like limits, it is something that should be decided in each relationship, with each partner, and discussed throughout the evulation of the union... hopfully I meet One who not only believes that love can exist between Master/slave but requires it.