The German went back home today, and a little part of my heart broke off and went with him. It hurts like a bitch, but I know it will eventually get better. I legitimately sobbed at the airport; once I got back in my car and he wasn't there; also when I got back home and opened up the guest room and the entire place smelled like him. I did that cliche thing where I just laid down on the bed and buried myself in all the blankets and cried until my nose was too stuffed up to smell him anymore.
Since I'll likely be asleep by the time his plane lands back in the homeland, I'm leaving this here now.
For the German
I love the completely random way that we met - the weird chance of all of it. The probability that I would have seen that original post on /r/bdsmcommunity, participated, and then been asked to help out from a moderation standpoint. The probability that you would have then messaged me and asked for a session. I like to play "what if" games a lot with the people who are important to me, and yours is always the most intriguing, because if it hadn't happened exactly in the "what if" way that it did, we wouldn't have ever met. And you're a fantastic person to have met. I love how even though you're the farthest away from me, I felt instantly connected to you. I love how indescribably adorable you are, and how it's difficult for me to be around you and not be smiling. I love how incredibly gentle you are, and I always feel like you're paying painstaking attention to whether something is making me feel good or not. I love that even though I don't get to see you often, the times that I do are utterly fantastic.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Friday, March 22, 2013
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
Be Honest
Random tidbits from my morning "time waste on the Internet when I should be getting ready for work."
Posting this one mainly for the 7th panel. Because...I am guilty of that all the time. Not asking the specific "do I look fat?" question. Asking a question I don't really care about the answer to, I just want to code and interpret the answer in regards to what I'm really asking. And then emotionally reacting to my own interpretation of the answer, without explaining the interpretation or reaction to the other person. That's sort of unfair.
Unrelated but relevant, I agree with this lots.
Posting this one mainly for the 7th panel. Because...I am guilty of that all the time. Not asking the specific "do I look fat?" question. Asking a question I don't really care about the answer to, I just want to code and interpret the answer in regards to what I'm really asking. And then emotionally reacting to my own interpretation of the answer, without explaining the interpretation or reaction to the other person. That's sort of unfair.
Unrelated but relevant, I agree with this lots.
Monday, March 18, 2013
Oh ye of little faith
One of my coworkers is getting married soon, and because it's important to her family, she's doing a strict Catholic ceremony. Which means she has to take classes before they'll allow her to get married in the church. We're not talking like, "this is how you walk down the aisle without tripping" classes. We're talking, "what does God think about these things that are going to be happening in your marriage?" classes. As far as I've gathered, God hates a lot of things that might happen in your marriage, but he hates them slightly less than if you did them as a single person. For example, taking birth control when you're married is a bad thing because it means you're not fulfilling God's wishes to have more babies. But at least you can sort of mete out the blame with your husband, because as head of your household he's the one that allowed you to take birth control anyway. If you take birth control as a single lady, it's even worse because:
1. You've made a decision for yourself. In regards to your reproductive "duty" (hurr hurr duty).
2. Said decision probably means that you are having premarital sex. Which, as everyone knows, is the worst form of sex ever.
3. Once you've experienced the possibility of not having a baby, you may never want a baby. Even if you do get married and your husband wants you to have one. Why do you hate babies so much? Why?
In a completely unrelated Internet search this weekend, I came across this website called Christian Nymphos. Which...is not as completely stupid as it sounds. And that's a fucking ringing endorsement coming from me. Honestly, I just like a place where I can find "Anal Sex" just above "Biblical Studies" in the Categories section. Spoiler alert: Does God hate anal sex? Only if you're teh gayz. But as long as you've got opposing genitals and a ring on it:
1. You've made a decision for yourself. In regards to your reproductive "duty" (hurr hurr duty).
2. Said decision probably means that you are having premarital sex. Which, as everyone knows, is the worst form of sex ever.
3. Once you've experienced the possibility of not having a baby, you may never want a baby. Even if you do get married and your husband wants you to have one. Why do you hate babies so much? Why?
In a completely unrelated Internet search this weekend, I came across this website called Christian Nymphos. Which...is not as completely stupid as it sounds. And that's a fucking ringing endorsement coming from me. Honestly, I just like a place where I can find "Anal Sex" just above "Biblical Studies" in the Categories section. Spoiler alert: Does God hate anal sex? Only if you're teh gayz. But as long as you've got opposing genitals and a ring on it:
Friday, March 15, 2013
Pretty much, yeah
Now-hubby can now commence popping a thousand boners because I put Aziz Ansari on my blog.
Hugs and Kisses
Despite insane amounts of money just having been spent to fix my car (it was one of those where I dropped it off knowing one thing needed to be fixed, and then they just kept calling me the rest of the day with other things they were finding wrong), I am in not so bad of a mood.
So here's some sappy pics (and even a video link, for those inclined) of poly cuddles. Happy Friday, all.
(Vid from the latter)
So here's some sappy pics (and even a video link, for those inclined) of poly cuddles. Happy Friday, all.
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Carpooling
Now-hubby and I have decided to give it a shot. He and I don't actually work that far from each other. We start around the same time every day (me, 7:30; him, 8:00), but whereas I get done at 3:30, he is at work until 5:00. However, by carpooling we'll save quite a bit on gas every month, so I now have an extra hour and a half at the end of some days to enjoy literature. Expect my patronage to the library to increase exponentially.
Today was the first day of the new experiment, and I spent the 1.5 hours in the teacher's lounge at school. Leather recliners and soft lighting - it's a nice enough place. I read a bit of Death Masks (the Dresden Files book I'm on now - I care so little about the series and so much about it possibly being the key to my sexy optometrist's heart), and then noticed the January issue of Psychology Today sitting on one of the coffee tables.
Which, going into it I didn't exactly have high hopes. I've perused a few issues of PT, mostly in airport bookstores or while I was waiting for appointments with Therapy Lady. Which, it's sort of a clever ruse for therapists to have this magazine in their waiting rooms, as PT is about as reliable for dispensing actual psychological knowledge as Cosmo is for dispensing sex tips. P.S. for the latter - have you tried touching him? Like...on the dick?
Oh, also. Women have clits and stuff. There, I've just effectively condensed every issue of Cosmo into two sentences.
So, anyway, I wasn't expecting the "12 blunt truths" to be anything actually mind-blowing. What I definitely didn't expect was it to be a total and complete moralistic train wreck. Follow along, intrepid denizens! (Also, random note as I go through this, there was a part in the magazine article about how pornography is like the worst thing ever created. Not there in the online version. I guess if you really want to read about how RedTube is going to ruin your life, you have to buy the magazine. Sorry.)
It makes us want to do things that seem immoral or degrading, like slapping someone or being tied up.
We're not off to a particularly good start here. This is in the big text part of the article. You know, the part before the print gets all small and if you were just browsing this article you could have an interesting tidbit to share at the water cooler later.
We feel awkward asking the people we love for the sex acts we really want.
Oh wait, maybe you're winning me back, PT. Sometimes it does feel awkward to ask for specific sex acts from the people I love.
Despite being one of the most private activities, sex is nevertheless surrounded by a range of powerfully socially sanctioned ideas that codify how normal people are meant to feel about and deal with the matter. In truth, however, few of us are remotely normal sexually. We are almost all haunted by guilt and neuroses, by phobias and disruptive desires, by indifference and disgust. We are universally deviant—but only in relation to some highly distorted ideals of normality.
Cool, yeah. I'm still with this. Although it's a bit disconcerting with the whole bit about "immoral and degrading" above, which is sort of playing into the "socially sanctioned ideas that codify how normal people are meant to feel." PT, you're a goddamn nationally syndicated magazine. You've just socially influenced a bunch of people into thinking some fairly benign BDSM play is the "wrong" way to approach sex.
Men and women in love instinctively hold back from sharing more than a fraction of their desires out of a fear, usually accurate, of generating intolerable disgust in their partners.
Alright, hold the fucking phone. It's the "usually accurate" that gets me here. It implies that you're totally justified in hiding that disgusting sexual desire (you know, like wanting to be tied up or slapped), because the person you're with will of course think you're a disgusting person and want nothing to do with you. What fucking study did this guy do to gather the evidence needed for that "usually accurate?" It's also a subtle push that you should be somebody that you aren't, because that's the best way to find love. And you would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for those meddling kids.
Erections and lubrication simply cannot be effected by willpower and are therefore particularly true and honest indices of interest.
Hear that, rapists? You're good to go.
What is the lure of sex in the back of an airplane?
I'm skipping this part altogether. Something about uniforms and how it's "naughty" to have sex in places that you shouldn't. Because exhibitionism and a uniform fetish = awesome. Rope play and slapping = immoral. I don't get it. I'm not trying to get it.
Impotence is at base, then, a symptom of respect, a fear of causing displeasure through the imposition of our own desires or the inability to satisfy our partner's needs—a civilized worry that we will disappoint or upset others. It is an asset that should be valued as evidence of an achievement of the ethical imagination.
Because fuck you, Viagra. Give people with ED the goddamn Nobel Prize. Not that I'm advocating medication as the only treatment. I'm just saying that telling people, "oh, his dick couldn't get hard, that just means he respects you too much" is a total crock of shit. Especially when just a few paragraphs ago the article was telling us how it's physically impossible for a dude to be interested and not get hard.
We may in fact find it easier to put on a rubber mask or pretend to be a predatory, incestuous relative with someone we're not also going to have to eat breakfast with for the next three decades.
In the car ride home, this devolved into a discussion about how much Cheerios look like tiny butt holes, and me re-branding them "Butt-o's." (Because I am eternally stuck in the 3rd grade when it comes to humor.)
Today was the first day of the new experiment, and I spent the 1.5 hours in the teacher's lounge at school. Leather recliners and soft lighting - it's a nice enough place. I read a bit of Death Masks (the Dresden Files book I'm on now - I care so little about the series and so much about it possibly being the key to my sexy optometrist's heart), and then noticed the January issue of Psychology Today sitting on one of the coffee tables.
Which, going into it I didn't exactly have high hopes. I've perused a few issues of PT, mostly in airport bookstores or while I was waiting for appointments with Therapy Lady. Which, it's sort of a clever ruse for therapists to have this magazine in their waiting rooms, as PT is about as reliable for dispensing actual psychological knowledge as Cosmo is for dispensing sex tips. P.S. for the latter - have you tried touching him? Like...on the dick?
Oh, also. Women have clits and stuff. There, I've just effectively condensed every issue of Cosmo into two sentences.
So, anyway, I wasn't expecting the "12 blunt truths" to be anything actually mind-blowing. What I definitely didn't expect was it to be a total and complete moralistic train wreck. Follow along, intrepid denizens! (Also, random note as I go through this, there was a part in the magazine article about how pornography is like the worst thing ever created. Not there in the online version. I guess if you really want to read about how RedTube is going to ruin your life, you have to buy the magazine. Sorry.)
It makes us want to do things that seem immoral or degrading, like slapping someone or being tied up.
We're not off to a particularly good start here. This is in the big text part of the article. You know, the part before the print gets all small and if you were just browsing this article you could have an interesting tidbit to share at the water cooler later.
We feel awkward asking the people we love for the sex acts we really want.
Oh wait, maybe you're winning me back, PT. Sometimes it does feel awkward to ask for specific sex acts from the people I love.
Despite being one of the most private activities, sex is nevertheless surrounded by a range of powerfully socially sanctioned ideas that codify how normal people are meant to feel about and deal with the matter. In truth, however, few of us are remotely normal sexually. We are almost all haunted by guilt and neuroses, by phobias and disruptive desires, by indifference and disgust. We are universally deviant—but only in relation to some highly distorted ideals of normality.
Cool, yeah. I'm still with this. Although it's a bit disconcerting with the whole bit about "immoral and degrading" above, which is sort of playing into the "socially sanctioned ideas that codify how normal people are meant to feel." PT, you're a goddamn nationally syndicated magazine. You've just socially influenced a bunch of people into thinking some fairly benign BDSM play is the "wrong" way to approach sex.
Men and women in love instinctively hold back from sharing more than a fraction of their desires out of a fear, usually accurate, of generating intolerable disgust in their partners.
Alright, hold the fucking phone. It's the "usually accurate" that gets me here. It implies that you're totally justified in hiding that disgusting sexual desire (you know, like wanting to be tied up or slapped), because the person you're with will of course think you're a disgusting person and want nothing to do with you. What fucking study did this guy do to gather the evidence needed for that "usually accurate?" It's also a subtle push that you should be somebody that you aren't, because that's the best way to find love. And you would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for those meddling kids.
Erections and lubrication simply cannot be effected by willpower and are therefore particularly true and honest indices of interest.
Hear that, rapists? You're good to go.
What is the lure of sex in the back of an airplane?
I'm skipping this part altogether. Something about uniforms and how it's "naughty" to have sex in places that you shouldn't. Because exhibitionism and a uniform fetish = awesome. Rope play and slapping = immoral. I don't get it. I'm not trying to get it.
Impotence is at base, then, a symptom of respect, a fear of causing displeasure through the imposition of our own desires or the inability to satisfy our partner's needs—a civilized worry that we will disappoint or upset others. It is an asset that should be valued as evidence of an achievement of the ethical imagination.
Because fuck you, Viagra. Give people with ED the goddamn Nobel Prize. Not that I'm advocating medication as the only treatment. I'm just saying that telling people, "oh, his dick couldn't get hard, that just means he respects you too much" is a total crock of shit. Especially when just a few paragraphs ago the article was telling us how it's physically impossible for a dude to be interested and not get hard.
We may in fact find it easier to put on a rubber mask or pretend to be a predatory, incestuous relative with someone we're not also going to have to eat breakfast with for the next three decades.
In the car ride home, this devolved into a discussion about how much Cheerios look like tiny butt holes, and me re-branding them "Butt-o's." (Because I am eternally stuck in the 3rd grade when it comes to humor.)
Why are hotels metaphysically important?
Blah, blah. Because the same reasons that airplane sex is awesome. Because as long as you're having the "right" kind of dirty sex, nobody can tell you what a disgusting whore you are (I mean, unless you like that, in which case you're firmly in the "wrong" type of dirty sex category again).
No one can be everything to another person.
Whoa, holy shit PT. Are we actually trying to bring it back to something remotely realistic for the end of the article?
It is impossible to sleep
with someone outside of marriage and not spoil the things we care about
inside it. There is no answer to the tensions of marriage.
Nevermind. Hear that, married people? You're essentially fucked (and neither in the "right" or the "wrong" way, just in that sort of hopeless "I hate my life" way). You can't expect to get everything from one other person, but there's also no other available answer. The fuck??
Monday, March 11, 2013
Following the road
Went to see Oz with Frisbee and Now-hubby on Friday night. I'll spare you all the incredibly nerdy discussion that happened on the way home, and just tell you that I liked it a lot. Like...it was fucking awesome.
Also speaking of things I like, I'm re-reading Still Life with Woodpecker by Tom Robbins. I read it for the first time in high school, and recently picked it back up.
When we're incomplete, we're always searching for somebody to complete us. When, after a few years or a few months of a relationship, we find that we're still unfulfilled, we blame our partners and take up with somebody more promising. This can go on and on - series polygamy - until we admit that while a partner can add sweet dimensions to our lives, we, each of us, are responsible for our own fulfillment. Nobody else can provide it for us, and to believe otherwise is to delude ourselves dangerously and to program for eventual failure every relationship we enter.
Also speaking of things I like, I'm re-reading Still Life with Woodpecker by Tom Robbins. I read it for the first time in high school, and recently picked it back up.
When we're incomplete, we're always searching for somebody to complete us. When, after a few years or a few months of a relationship, we find that we're still unfulfilled, we blame our partners and take up with somebody more promising. This can go on and on - series polygamy - until we admit that while a partner can add sweet dimensions to our lives, we, each of us, are responsible for our own fulfillment. Nobody else can provide it for us, and to believe otherwise is to delude ourselves dangerously and to program for eventual failure every relationship we enter.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
What did the 5 fingers say to the face?
Feeling much better. It sort of helps that it's only a 3 day week at school, so all day yesterday I was thinking it was Monday and it was already Wednesday! Then payday is next week and I'm gonna be making it rain all over this beotch.
Also in exactly two weeks and one more day the German will be visiting, and I'm quite excited for that.
Oh, and Pervocracy just put up this awesome entry about "bottoming skills." You should check it out.
Also in exactly two weeks and one more day the German will be visiting, and I'm quite excited for that.
Oh, and Pervocracy just put up this awesome entry about "bottoming skills." You should check it out.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Damper down
It snowed a lot today. Is still snowing, actually. Lots of schools were cancelled, including the one at which I work. So I've been spending a large part of the day watching Dr. Who and glancing out the window to check on the precipitation accumulation. There's not much going on outside, even the snowplows gave up at some point and conceded to the amassing flakes.
It's quiet outside, mirroring how quiet it is inside. I'm in one of those stupid funky moods that I can't explain and can't get out of. I'll feel better momentarily, and then some stupid moment will bring my brain right back to, "hey, aren't you feeling horrible about something?" One of those where I feel bad for feeling bad, which makes me feel even worse. At some point it'll break, but until then everything just feels like this:
It's quiet outside, mirroring how quiet it is inside. I'm in one of those stupid funky moods that I can't explain and can't get out of. I'll feel better momentarily, and then some stupid moment will bring my brain right back to, "hey, aren't you feeling horrible about something?" One of those where I feel bad for feeling bad, which makes me feel even worse. At some point it'll break, but until then everything just feels like this:
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