by Jewel Mathieson We have come to be danced not the pretty dance not the pretty pretty, pick me, pick me dance but the claw our way back into the belly of the sacred, sensual animal dance the unhinged, unplugged, cat is out of its box dance the holding the precious moment in the palms of our hands and feet dance We have come to be danced not the jiffy booby, shake your booty for him dance but the wring the sadness from our skin dance the blow the chip off our shoulder dance the slap the apology from our posture dance We have come to be danced not the monkey see, monkey do dance one, two dance like you one two three, dance like me dance but the grave robber, tomb stalker tearing scabs & scars open dance the rub the rhythm raw against our souls dance WE have come to be danced not the nice invisible, self conscious shuffle but the matted hair flying, voodoo mama shaman shakin’ ancient bones dance the strip us from our casings, return our wings sharpen our claws & tongues dance the shed dead cells and slip into the luminous skin of love dance We have come to be danced not the hold our breath and wallow in the shallow end of the floor dance but the meeting of the trinity: the body, breath & beat dance the shout hallelujah from the top of our thighs dance the mother may I? yes you may take 10 giant leaps dance the Olly Olly Oxen Free Free Free dance the everyone can come to our heaven dance We have come to be danced where the kingdom’s collide in the cathedral of flesh to burn back into the light to unravel, to play, to fly, to pray to root in skin sanctuary We have come to be danced WE HAVE COME
A Toast.
here's to the deep thinkers here's to the analyzers here's to the slow movers and all the thoughtful chess players here's to anticipating ten moves ahead of us and naturally alienating everyone who doesn't think like us. Here's to the fibro girls here's to the emo boys here's to thinking with your brains and not your body toys here's to the cynics here's to the nihilists here's to all the people who wait upon the single's list here's to the weirdos god bless us, every one. And here's to the idiots who'll need us when their fun is done.
Since I've been on the search for a partner again, I've encountered the same frustrations that have always vexed me about peoples' interpretation of BDSM. It's as if dominance is mistaken for a catsuit one can take off and store in the closet.
Now, obviously with my history of a community educator, I realize the onus is on me to guide people to a more reality-based perspective. But I repeatedly find myself in the position where the people I negotiate with don't have an accurate perspective of who/what they're dealing with. It's like being a docent trying to explain to a group of six year olds why Van Gogh was such a brilliant artist.
This may be my starved ego tripping over itself, but I feel like it's time I put my story (the way I view it) down, so I can reference it later. This is going to be a long one, so tap out, or buckle down.
My abridged life as a dominatrix:
I first started exhibiting signs of abnormal psycho-sexual development around the age of 4. I regularly played the Daddy in "house" and once threw a little boy from a tree, breaking his arm, because he pushed my "mommy" down on the playground. At the age of 12, I became an online sexual predator, realizing it was easy to coax boys even twice my age into cybering. (sexting didn't exist back then) with a penchant for hostage/sex-puppet scenarios. I became obsessed with the concept of geisha, training all their lives to be artists of desire. By 17, I was cheer captain, president of everything, and a rock-star "good girl" while having wild relationships with older, dumber boys. at 20, I realized how destructive my sexual habits were, and quickly found a better, safer, venue to explore my natural sadism, BDSM. I dove in head first and learned everything I possibly could. While still in school, i learned all about abnormal psychology, trying to identify why someone like me existed. At 22, I graduated with a highly technical degree into a recession, and started working as a professional dominant out of Passive Arts Studios, where the owner took me under his wing and gave me free reign to teach and explore. By 23, I had a monthly club, featuring discussion based classes, giving myself a spotlight to really excel in my talents. I had multiple poly relationships, and even hosted a talk show. I hosted, learned, grew, and became the dungeon mama to a new generation of kinksters, while gaining the respect and friendship from those who have been active in the scene for decades. July 27, 2010, my mentor and father figure was murdered by someone i considered a friend, and Passive Arts Studios was burned down. I stood on the street and watched as his body was wheeled out of the charred remains of the place that was my lifestyle. After that, I did everything in my power to ensure that my coworkers and friends found some kind of financial security, as the whole community reeled from the loss of a long-term pillar. I continued hosting, and having my relationships, dealing with my disappointing biotech career, doing everything I could to keep afloat in a spiraling depression. At 26, I finally tapped out of the LA scene to move back in with my parents, and focus on dealing with my mental illness. The first rebound I had after my major relationships killed himself shortly after I broke things off with him. 2013 rolls around, and I'm about as low as it's possible to get without checking out, and I move to Seattle, trying to find my way in the scene there, made a few wonderful friends, and had a domestic relationship with a vanilla guy. I worked with a life coach and decide to focus on my writing and get a certification in massage therapy. end of 2013, my sister invites me to a life coaching seminar, I'm immediately lauded for my unique genius perspective, and decide to move back to LA to engage in this 24/7 style self-actualizing cult. I alienate most of my remaining friends with the rhetoric and pyramid scheme enrolling tactics (but learned a lot) early 2014, I realize my mental illness has been exacerbated by the "have it all" mentality, and check myself into a mental health facility for a week. The end result of that is I started going to biweekly therapy with a specialist to discern how a life with so much potential took the direction mine did. And that's when I stopped trying to date. I decided that until I understood myself, my passions, my desires, and my vision for my life, I didn't need to risk involving anyone else in it. And as the saying goes, it got better. I've spent the last few years to study, learn, teach, write and try to make the world a better place in my own unique way. Last year, my big sister decided that we should move from LA to Dublin, so we did. She's in a similar path about self discovery, though admittedly a few years behind me. In learning how to be patient, and wait for what I actually want, versus what is available, I've reached this level of zen understanding about all that I've learned, and all that I have left to learn.
The moral of this very long story, is that I've already gone through my gauntlet. I know what I need, I know what I'm worth, and I certainly know what doesn't work. As an amalgamation of my knowledge and experience, I have a specific vision for my life, and nothing less than exceptional is acceptable.
Perhaps saying all this puts people off, perhaps I've educated myself out of the market. But what I think will happen, is that someone will see this incredible story of mine, and want to add to it. Someone out there is going to appreciate me for the Astra von Smoochyface original artwork that I am, and value me as someone precious and irreplaceable.
And then the next chapter will begin.
But until then, I'll teach, and wait. It turns out, I can be a very patient person after all.
I've noticed that there are a ton of transvestites here, and practically no transgenders. It's a much different demographic spread than I'm used to. I presume it's a cultural thing, anyone have any insight to lend me on this?
gird your loins, dublin! Astra von Smoochyface is goin to Nimhneach
praise sweet baby jesus, we found a house in clontarf ^_^
once i get back to some sort of normalcy, i'll be able to pay attention to this "dating" thing
i'm rather saddened by having to add this to my list of intrinsic "deal breakers" but try to follow my logic. I value self awareness, truth, and personal integrity above all else. as such, i cannot in good conscience socially censor myself and in any way claim to be what i'm not. because of this, i cannot form personal relationships with those who are not at a similar level of, shall we say "outness" so, while i recognize that this is severely limiting my prospects, i won't compromise my integrity by indulging in "behind closed doors" relationships.
basically, i fly my freak flag high upon my mast. those who choose not to are not a good match for me.
best of luck, people.
ok the house hunt is going much slower than i intended and it's causing me some pretty irritating logistical problems.
like... laundry...
i actually miss being able to do laundry whenever i need.
this has gone from being undignified to a pain in the ass.
Hear ye, hear ye! after 30 continuous days of traveling, I've made it to Dublin!!!!
Right now we're trying to find a flat in the city center, if you know of any, let me know.
And yes, I will be at Nimhneach on Feb 4
oh sweet baby jesus. my sister and i are stuck in Bath with the mother of all head/chest colds.
good news is if we continue to feel this crappy we might just skip the rest of our road trip and head straight for dublin
bad news is we both feel like death warmed over.
ok for those anxiously keeping track. I've just arrived in the UK. We still have a bit of road tripping to do before we take the ferry over, so 1-2 weeks is still my anticipated arrival in dublin proper.
lol. just ran into this video of a webinar i did a few years ago. if you want to get to know me, you should totally watch this: " target="_blank">
I've been getting asked this recently, so I figure it's time to brainstorm it. What I want in a partner: 1- I need a (mostly) healthy, well-rounded adult with a stable lifestyle and a great group of friends. 2- They've got to be motivated to build a better life, most of my dominance is goal-specific conditioning, so even if they're not sure what they want, they need to have that internal drive to succeed. 3- I've tried this other ways, and it doesn't work. I *need* nerds. Someone i can geek out with, someone who will test read my sci-fi fantasy books. Someone i can go on a video game bender with. 4- like most mammalian females, i'm attracted primarily to alpha men, or those powerful enough to (proverbially) fight for what they want 5- I'm used to dealing with mental illness and medical problems, but I can't deal with people who are too stubborn/bitter to get and maintain proper treatment. 6- Sometimes I have breakdowns. I need someone who's willing to help me out of my own darkness, and on the flipside, keep me tethered to reality when I get manic 7- there's a good chance I'll become a bestselling author here in the near future, but until then, my ass is broke, and dating is difficult on a tight budget. I don't sell sex, and i don't sell love, but for the time being, any partner that wants in is going to need to spring for anything more than pizza and beer and that sucks, but that's just the situation for the moment. 8- sex: straight up, i've more notches in my belt than the average lady my age, but it's been a while, and I've had pretty severe psychological reservations about "too much too soon" so it's one of those things I've been taking *really* slow. Rest assured, if the connection is there, glorious screaming orgasms can follow. 9- romance. My version of it is long rambling conversations and laying out in a field talking about astronomy. Snuggly netflix binges and cooking delicious meals together. It's about mutual support, and just being around someone who makes your skin tingle. 10- growth. like i keep saying, relationships are investments, growing into wiser, kinder, and more awesome people. synergy and all that.
so i guess this is my checklist
hey my pretty britties.
I'm now planning a month long sojourn starting on 1/10/17 in south hampton to wherever we end up parking.
what I need is a list of must-see spots in the UK (and maybe northern france) to do the tourist thing.
my only restriction is that my sis and I will have a ton of luggage and a tiny dog to haul with us wherever we go.
if you have any suggestions, please toss them over, i promise i'll be more diligent about answering my emails
Alright, news update. It seems I will reach your lovely shores the second week of January, for those who have been asking. I currently expect to be living in or near Dublin, though that is subject to change.
I heard a rumor that Dublin has a fetish club, can anyone confirm this or provide me with more information?
Thank you, my dears.
Welp, it's looking like I'm moving to Ireland by the end of the year, I've got to start making some friends out there so I won't be the classical American tourist.
how exciting.
Gah!
so, sometime last year, i set my deadline for my next book release for my birthday, which is just about a month ago. I've been slaving away on countless edits for the last 3 weeks, which has turned some heads.
My sister staged an intervention tonight, stating that i might be driving myself manic in a desperate attempt at getting some paid copy out. I can't say she's entirely wrong, but she dared me to g 48 hours without editing or writing anything, which, when i'm in the zone, is outlandishly uncomfortable.
nobody who knows me doubts that i'm going to be the next great american author, but as difficult as it is for me to accept, i can't force a time-frame on it.
Michelangelo once said that his sculptures are already buried in the marble, and all he needed to do was free them, but for a writer, it's more of the aufbau principle- build, and build and build until something definable has been created.
and i'm so damn close i can taste it. so many lit agents and publishers and vendors are going to go ape shit bananas when they read it, but it's just not quite right, not yet. and despite my full force of will, sometimes the only thing to do is let it go float off in the aether until i can come back to it in a healthy and productive way.
once again, there's no such thing as immediate gratification for me. :(
I'm currently entertaining this fascinating line of thought, wherein I can't think of a single instance where I have experienced "hate" in the literal sense. I mean I use the word quite frequently, like when describing things that annoy or inconvenience me, but as far as actually possessing the emotional bandwidth to invest myself in actually hating something?
i think, other than my regards to myself when severely depressed, which is a different mechanism entirely, the worst feelings i've ever felt for someone was wishing that they would die more quickly, and even that was from an extremely pragmatic point of view.
I just can't fathom how people seem to invest themselves so deeply into giving a shit enough to hate something. it's baffling.
i think i might go out to threshold tonight.
hahahaaaaaa.
so, like many of us, I maintain an okc profile as well, and I just got a message that read: "DtF?" I actually had to look up what that actually meant. and it's "down to fuck?"
like, literally, someone couldn't take the time to write out "down to fuck?" or even "fuck?" or "sex?" or... "me?"
Actually, this pretty much perfectly exemplifies why I'm back on this site. I actually took quite a bit of time off from the scene to prove to myself that I could function in the vanilla world. It turns out, yeah, but it's fucking stupid and I don't like it.
please, tell me, (i mean this, write me and tell me) does this actually work for guys? are there actually women out there who get a "DtF?" and are like "by golly, sign me right up! (that will really piss my dad off!)"
I mean, even before I knew what the BDSM was, and I was just some random freaky teenager with some weird ass self-destructive habits, I wasn't like: "Oh, you have an erection, I have a vagina! Clearly this was meant to be!"
And this is not to say that I'm not fundamentally sex-positive, because I am. I am just confused, is it really that easy for vanilla people? don't they need to negotiate and talk about safety and discuss limits and make a plan? O_o.
obviously, i'm aware of the phenomenon of 1 night stands. (I even managed to have one myself... but he looked me up a few months later, which I don't know if that really counts or not.) and I've been to my share of orgies and swingers parties, but even then, there's at least something tantamount to a conversation, no matter how brief.
Oi. perhaps I'm a strange creature for not understanding the appeal this new anonymous sex craze. then again, I may or may not have a phobia of drug resistant gonorrhea.
I'm not sure if there was a point to this rant. Maybe just a knee-jerk reaction to finding a new level of depravity which I have yet to experience.
*sigh* today was a good day, but this evening yielded something of the inevitable reality check insofar as my mentoring prowess.
so much of who I am is predicated on being a "fixer" it's a nasty habit that I just can't seem to kick. the upside, of course, is that I'm actually really freaking good at doling out the right advice at the right time.
and of course, as a skilled domme (or just communicator in general) I have a unique ability to make sure that what I have to say is heard, understood, and acknowledged. Unfortunately, I've yet to divine a way to compel someone to DO something against their will, without holding the whole relationship hostage.
Like, the only punishment that I can actually enforce on certain relationships is withdrawing from them until my demands are met. which, is a bullshit way to be a friend. but in a game of carrots and sticks, without a consenting corporal/ mind-fuck arrangement, I've got nothing in the way of forcing a person to do what is admittedly in their own best interests.
I truly wish that beating the sense into someone was an actual thing, because sometimes, I just want to shake the shit out of some of my friends and yell "You'd suffer less if you just did what I've been telling you to do!"
But, I doubt even I'm really that arrogant. Nooo, the only thing I can really control is myself, and my desire to control other people. I can't protect people from making their own mistakes, I can just be the reliable guide that's constantly there to pick up people after they've fallen. In the holes I've been pointing out and warning about. A lot.
I just hurt when my friends suffer needlessly. I don't like it. :(
woah nelly. back on here less than 12 hours and I already have 2 new pages of messages.
i wish that i could actually save my customized auto-response, but even then, telling someone that i'm not interested and best of luck results in an argument nearly a third of the time.
I was explaining to someone how irrationally frequently I'm stalked in my dating excursions. I've discussed this at length with my therapist as well. Her theory is that my candor and empathy encourage people to be more vulnerable than they would otherwise feel comfortable being (kind of the point, right?) and when the inevitable rejection comes around, it hurts their egos deeply, and they respond with disproportionate anger.
in an objective way, i find this funny. like someone chasing a girl down the street screaming "let me bare my soul to you, stuck up bitch!" (i'm not sure if this mental image translates)
of course, it makes perfect sense that the pathological sexism of society permeates even traditional role-reversed relationship seeking. people assume because they desire something, they have a sense of entitlement toward it. but, logic, it seems, fails a lot of my potential suitors.
I've stated clearly, and will continue to do so until the point is hammered in: I want exactly 1 thing from this site: a loving, committed, primary, D/s relationship with a switch or submissive who physically and intellectually stimulates me.
this fundamentally excludes everything BUT exactly that situation. i don't want a hook up. i don't want a play partner, i don't want a maid, or a foot slut, or a person seeking mentorship. if i did want those things, i already have half the LA kink scene on my fetlife and i could scare something up toot fucking sweet. but i don't. i just want a partner.
i hate that this site makes me sound so negative. I'm not a negative person. I'm the bubbly cheery life of the party that everyone loves and respects. I work insanely hard to be a positive influence in people's lives. that is my kung fu.
so, please, people. stop harshing my loving, compassionate vibe. the person who is looking for me might get the wrong idea ;)
alright, gird your loins, bitches, I'm back on the hunt.
I reached a point a few months ago where I just couldn't fathom having one more meaningless, pointless, drolling conversation with another walking priapism.
but, I didn't waste my time, no sir-ee. I've actually spent the last couple months mentoring a switch friend of mine and helping him get his life on track, and I'm feeling pretty good about myself, insofar as my ability to execute. (plus, a little play here and there is good for the humors.)
I'm still massaging, I'm still writing, and I'm still looking for a submissive masochist whose mind appeals to my own. If it wasn't you before hand, it's still pretty much not going to be you.
Luckily, I'm keeping my sense of humor about all this. When the stars align and the time is auspicious, the right person will appear in my life.
woot.
and speaking of my beloved pieces of tech dying horribly, my laptop screen is like ripping itself out of the base, slowly killing the fan. it figures, i run it between 18 and 20 hours a day (can't sleep without my documentaries) and bang it around in my bag to and from work. really the only time i'm not on it is when i'm driving or massaging,
luckily, i've learned from the last 4 times this has happened this last year to keep my shit backed up on the cloud. (and to buy cheap laptops)
still, it kind of makes me feel like a blunt instrument. as the saying goes "this is why we can't have nice things!"
god damnit! my hitachi just died a fiery death. i feel like i should say something funny like "there go my evening plans" :-\
***update*** using pink electrical tape from my toy bag and nail clippers, i have fixed it! (or at least turned it into a fire hazard) I MENDED SOMETHING!!!!
alright, it's probably cruel of me to leave my dedicated readers with a totally emo journal entry, but i have a policy of brutal "i don't give a fuck" honesty when it comes to this site so, that was then.
this last week hasn't significantly improved, i'm basically in mood-recovery mode which puts me in a very "blah" state of mind, mostly- i've just been avoiding doing anything but work and netflix.
as my trusty shrink describes it my "mind is giving [me] the 'double "fuck you!"'" otherwise clinically known as dysphoric hypomania. basically- all the jittery "i need to get up and do shit" of mania with a "there's nothing that i can do that will give me any sort of positive reinforcement at all, so i'll just do nothing and feel bad about it." The one exception, i have found, was trolling this site for good conversations.
this whole spell has actually had some positive outcomes, if you see self-knowledge as positive- which i try to- but, to transition out of the medical into the philosophical: I'm energetically tapped out. my jobs require so much patience and compassion and physical rigor that the benefits have been having increasingly diminished returns. of course as an extrovert and a leo i mostly draw my emotional power-ups from those around me.
out of context, this seems pretty unreasonable to say, but- one of the reasons i love bdsm so much is that it gives me the ability to vicariously experience other people's happiness.
in relationships, it's nice to have the ability to basically command someone to disregard what's happening to me, and like a chubby succubus i can feed off their positive energy when i have none of my own to offer.
of course, i like to intellectually distance myself from the neurochemical and emotional roller coasters i experience. It's comforting to have a place of relative objectivity when i'm crying so hard that i vomit for no decent reason. it's something that i'm still coming to terms with- the fact that i, with all my knowledge, with all my skills, still occasionally lack the ability to get out under the crushing weight of my own brain/mind.
this is probably one of my biggest reasons for hinging my entire love life on what i consider to be intellectual compatibility. it's just not enough for me to have physical attraction or similar interests or i don't know what else people base relationships on. but i have to believe that the only way i'll feel comfortable investing myself in training a sub is if i'm positive that they will be able to hold fast and be my anchor when my inner hurricane starts to blow.
obviously, it's proven extremely difficult to find such a unicorn. but i feel in my year and a half of being single (the longest stretch since i hit puberty) that i've discovered a lot about my sense of integrity and sense of self-worth, things i consider to be essential to being a great dominant (or just a capable adult?) and that requires the decision to not settle for "maybe"
I guess i'll know i've found my unicorn when someone looks me in the eyes and assures me that not only do they want to fuck me senseless and fully trust me with their mind and body, but they're ready to pick me up when i knock myself down. Power exchange, i guess.
Maybe i just spent the last hour re-inventing the wheel. Either way, i feel better after venting. thanks for reading!
weeeeelllllp my week has been relatively crap so far. I don't really feel like going into a great amount of detail but basically, my mind is taking my body for a ride... or the other way around, either way there's some dissension in my general well-being.
So, while i'm drinking copious amounts of beer to feel like i'm justified in puking every couple of hours, I'm going to write a little motivational post about my favorite subject: me.
Reasons why I'm fucking awesome and get to enjoy my life. 1- my mom had 1 child before me and 7 miscarriages after me, in a cosmic scheme, there was no follow up. 2- I was born with what my therapist likes to call a "crappy hand" genetically speaking. Sure I got the sexy eyes and the milky skin and the smarts... but I'm like a lamborgini- impractical and prone to expensive breakdowns. Still.. people want me. 3- i have 100% survival rate for all of my crappy days before, and I've had some intensely crappy ones. 4- being normal was never an option for me, so I got used to being extraordinary. 5- the people who truly know me love me deeply and are inclined to put up with my array of shit voluntarily for years. 6- I have many, MANY unusual and practical talents. 7- people rely on me for my wisdom, and they always have. To be fair, my "wisdom" is what I would consider common sense mixed with a whole bunch of "i've been there..." 8- I can turn my own frown upside down. 9- I'm psychologically bouncy and bendy... particularly useful when you slam against rock-bottom and can't afford to shatter. 10- even when i'm at my very worst, I still find it in me to help people. sometimes, it's not as significant as others, but... i still give myself points for trying.
so yeah. perspective check- as the song goes, it's a long hard road out of hell, but... I've got what it takes. And it matters. However little... however insignificant... it still matters. So there.
yesterday, i spent about half the morning reading this study. it's absolutely fascinating, if you want to have your mind blown, read the general discussion at the bottom right of pg `13
hurrrr, ok, so i've had this little project in my back pocket for a couple of months now and i'm being super freaking lazy about actually doing it. what i'm trying to do is create a couple's massage class where i have a presentation and a hands on and teach couples how to massage each other. people have been begging me to do it for a while now.
so i turn to you, my readers, to help me hone my focus- what have you always wondered about massaging your partner? tips and tricks that work for you? What do people need to know?
so the story is, on friday, i went to the trampoline park and tried to take it easy (seriously fell and skinned my ankle like first thing) and aside from being sore, that was about all the damage, so i get home, all proud of myself for not, ya know, injuring myself. So i'm getting something out of the fridge and i knock a cup of yogurt out and my cat-like skills kick in and i extend my foot to break it's fall so it doesnt like splatter (i got it!) but then, i got it a little too hard and my 2nd toe (which is actually shorter than my big toe) makes contact with the freezer door.
and I'm like- awe, damn, whatever, and don't even look at it once i realize it's not bleeding. Anywhoots, next day, i wake up and go to work, work the whole day without incident, and come home, at which time i realize that my middle phalange (the tiny little bone between the 2 knuckles) is black, blue, swollen, and the whole toe bends on 4 points and not 3. and i'm like "NEAT!" cause of course, having strange injuries always tickles me. and i'm like- ok it can't be that bad, i didn't notice it all day.
well, today, it kinda hurt but more in a like muscle weakness just try to evenly distribute weight- it's not like it's THAT important of a toe. anyways, after my 3rd hour of massage i'm like- ok, maybe i should take a look at it. I take off my shoe, and my 2nd toe was bent 20* more lateral (to the left) than it normally would, but in a kind of funky, twisty orientation.
naturally, i pull it out and straighten it up, and jerry rig a splint without directly taping my skin ( adhesive allergies) but not before showing off my toe's new talent to my coworkers.
but here's the interesting thing, sure i mean, yeah, it feels like a broken bone and all that, but the subjective pain is like... nothing. like 2 on a 1- 10 scale which is actually marginally higher than my general baseline. my skinned ankle on the other hand is like... ya know... 2-3 depending on the position. the hand... maaaaaybe 4-5 when i've been working on it.
moral of the story is i've been walking around on an extremely broken toe and barely notice it. i've been working with a broken hand for what like 2 months now (i keep over working it) and my roomie just looked at me when i showed her the amazing new toe dance, and was just... i want to think of something better to say than "horrified'
now, i know better to jinx myself and brag about having a very high pain threshold, cause it's really all relative, but holy shit- i'm stunned that something this injured isn't like... causing me more pain. of course, my entire life is and has always arguably been about pain so it's a fascinating study.
figured i'd share.
welp, i have a broken toe. that's new.
but i'm at work and i have this random question that nobody seems to be able to answer: is it possible to cry and swim at the same time?
weeeee! going to cosmic night at a trampoline park!
i may grow old, but i utterly refuse to grow up!
jebus, i just had this really strange experience at work where at some point during my massage with a stranger, i became utterly positive that he was a power-assertive rapist for no directly logical reason.
this sounds pretty far out there, even for me, but apparently, I'm extremely sensitive to a person's "energy" which i really just consider as a combination of involuntary micro expressions and breathing patterns.
i mean, the guy was completely chill and polite, if utterly disinterested in the fact that i was a human being (i'm surprisingly used to that) but i could tell at certain points that he wasn't just clinching through some very painful trigger point work, but he was actively calming down a temper. this guy was obviously extremely well versed in making himself appear more calm than he was.
just so i can rationalize my knee-jerk reaction, i'm going to try to list off some of the things i noticed that helped me spring to this irrational assumption. 1- he arrived 25 minutes before his session when instructed to arrive 15. 2- he quickly filled out his paper work, and proceeded to sit quietly in the waiting room, doing nothing, despite the fact that he carried a book. 3- he gave he obvious microexpression of disappointment when i was introduced (it's the "oh, i thought you'd be hot" look) 4- he made no attempt to chuckle, or in anyway acknowledge my general ice-breaker jokes (we put you back here at the end of the hallway, it's the best seat in the house- usually it gets at least a courtesy chuckle) 5- one of my coworkers accidentally confused the room, so he was in there prepping, i asked him politely if i could have it, and the client looked at me with the micro-tick of disgust. 6- during our consultation, i told him what i understood from his paperwork, and he pointed out the specific problem saying that he had been walking a lot in his trip to europe, which he just returned from, but offered no other information even when prompted. 7- one word answers to questions like "how's the pressure?" (not unusual, but the controlled terseness was a little curious) 8- his hair/ frame/ and pheromone scent all seemed to indicate that he was most likely a XYY chromo "superman" (read: high testosterone content, which in itself is not an indicator of anything untoward) 9- when we were finished and I was walking him out, discussing my theory with him, he refused to maintain eye contact with me, but had a fake smile. the only time i saw a genuine smile is when i walked him to the sales associate and referred to her as "the little blonde" which was sexist, and vastly inappropriate for the space.
again, none of these things in their own is in any way unusual, i deal with all sorts of people on the daily and that's what makes what i do so much fun. but the combination of them gave me this gut instinct of believing i knew exactly what this guy was.
but, i think, as always, the most disturbing thing about it was my utter ambivalence to the fact that he may very well have been a sociopathic power assertive rapist. at no time did i feel like in any way threatened or treated with anything but a cool disinterest. it was more like a freaky version of "namaste" like a little voice inside me was just saying "i know what you are"
anyways, thought i'd share.
Retrospectively, I think I learned everything I needed to know about sex from Ursula of the Little Mermaid:
"You'll have your looks, your pretty face. And don't underestimate the importance of body language, ha!
The men up there don't like a lot of blabber They think a girl who gossips is a bore! Yes on land it's much preferred for ladies not to say a word And after all dear, what is idle prattle for? Come on, they're not all that impressed with conversation True gentlemen avoid it when they can But they dote and swoon and fawn On a lady who's withdrawn It's she who holds her tongue who get's a man
Come on you poor unfortunate soul Go ahead! Make your choice! I'm a very busy woman and I haven't got all day It won't cost much Just your voice! You poor unfortunate soul It's sad but true If you want to cross the bridge, my sweet You've got the pay the toll Take a gulp and take a breath And go ahead and sign the scroll Flotsam, Jetsam, now I've got her, boys The boss is on a roll This poor unfortunate soul"
ahaha totally woke up with a wine hangover.
yesterday i get off work a little early and i get home prepping for a long evening of doing nothing and my friend who lives like a mile away texted me and was like "if you're free i'm taking you to lunch!"
so we go eat lunch and catch up cause i hadn't seen her since thanksgiving. but then we spend the next 7 hours hanging out at her place, killing three bottles of wine between us as i apparently inspired her to clean her room/ organize her thousands upon thousands of dollars of designer clothes. eventually we got pizza and i stumbled home drunk at like midnight with a bag of designer jeans for my roomie who's the same size.
not exactly the most typical girl's night, but still freakin awesome, which i will remember while massaging with a wine hangover this morning.
wheeew doggie. today is my one day of weekend and so far i have a gnarly hangover, and have gotten into a heated debate with one of my best friends about thought filtering.
she recently went vegetarian citing that killing animals is wrong, and I had an off handed joke about eating stupid people.
which spawned the ethical debate of cannibalism. personally, in the right context I'd totally eat human meat. here's why: of all the things a person can do with their remains, it seems the most immediately useful vs embalming- which i think is about the gnarliest, deepest perversion of nature that human kind has ever dreamed up.
but more importantly- humans are the only meat source that can actually give consent. don't get me wrong, i'm a meat eater, and like most of the things I do, I've researched the shit out of this decision. form tortured baby cow to force-fed goose liver, and any other number of exploitative treatment the modern agricultural industry inflicts on the livestock.
i buy into the general agreement that meat production, the way we're doing it now, is cruel, disgusting, and arguably morally wrong, and yet i do it anyway. why? because when my ancestors where swimming around in the primordial ocean, they were predators. a lion doesn't ask for a zebra's consent- it just chases it down and eats it.
in college, i wrote a like 30 page satirical essay on why we should feed death row inmates to those with life sentences (and made an extremely compelling argument for it- basically, tax-payer cost reduction and actually making going to prison a cultural deterrent) but, i had to do a shit ton of research on cannibalism. and it's kind of stuck with me.
now, I'm not suggesting that we go all Hannibal on our neighbors and people we don't like. but, i for one enjoy dissecting cultural taboos- and frankly the only reason I can see that cannibalism is a taboo is that we're just the kind of species that would (and has) gone and murdered people for the purpose of eating them.
i'm more of the mind that- well, if they're dead, and they said it was cool, why let good meat go to waste? I'm talking straight out of Stranger in a Strange Land here, but- I think it'd be far more... pleasant/useful/logical than filling someone up with formaldehyde, shellacking their face to look peaceful, sticking them in an expensive wooden box and shoving them in a hole.
my friend pointed out that these are the sort of thoughts i should keep to myself. to which i could only reply- better out than in. if there is some sort of god-like force in this world, then it's assumable that i was created with a mind full of these fucked up thoughts, and therefore have some sort of obligation to share them to whoever will listen. if there's not, there's only me and my moral agency, and the result remains the same.
either way. this is the sort of thing i think about with a hangover. and now you know.
Rant of the day:
My therapist pointed out that my increase in written content corresponded with a sense of physical inadequacy. She also recommended that I secure myself a social think-tank.
this, of course, churned to further introspective analysis. My thoughts are scattered and frankly I've got jack all in way of actionable conclusion other than recording an audio book (which, for a dyslexic, is a pretty taxing hobby.)
It's both depressing and uplifting to realize my constituency is among predominantly kinky men who happen to enjoy the cut of my jib in a journal-like fashion, but as I'm predominantly (judging by output) mostly a novelist, I still concern myself with the scope and efficacy of my reader base.
I have quite literally no doubt that my works will stand as innovations and achieve a measure of popularity, but I do worry about the time frame.
I find myself at a breaking point in my life, where I'm crippled by my physical inability to make significantly more money through massage. I'd have to give up at least one of my jobs, which I love, to pursue a more profitable arrangement. But I worry that giving up my ostensibly mindless work will adversely affect my ability to write.
Of course, with my BS and stacked resume in biotech, I have a reasonable fall back option for income, but I know the psychological effects of that decision will compromise my whole life-plan.
I'm also concerned that to really be able to put my nose to the creative grindstone, that I'll be forced to 1- take a big ass chunk of my creative time to refresh for the national exam and 2- re-relocate back to either colorado or Seattle, which would be a massive sacrifice in itself. which in itself would gimp me, because the highest pool of single, submissive men, happens to be in LA.
so while pursuing my professional endeavors in the sake of the Almighty Dollar, I sacrifice my creative and personal lives. I feel like I'm functionally retarded for not being able to craft myself a solid middle-ground from which to work, as so many people seem able to do.
Something I've been forced to recon with myself is that my psychologically fragile side is liable to either decimating collapse or domination every other aspect of my life entirely. I spend an enormous amount of effort trying to exist in the middle ground but it always seems like a functional toss up between worst alternatives: being a starving, yet creatively sated artist, and a professional business woman with no soul.
I think that's all I cared to rant about tonight. as always, thanks for reading.
welp, I kinda got a little smoldering fire lit under my pasty white ass today. Quite a few people have contacted me about my journal/ webinar/ book (thanks for buying it!) in recent weeks, and I think it's finally time to take the steps of getting back into podcasting/ recording one of my books on audio format.
Unfortunately, I'm pretty freakin clueless as is applied to web commerce/ most effective ways to get my work out to market, sooooo if any of my devoted readers happen to have any ideas on the subject, I'd really appreciate some pointers good youtube tutorials, technical q/a, basics of how to use audacity and the like)
Sorry to cross streams, I know it could technically compromise my "artistic credibility" by crossing streams with the personal and professional, but I set a goal of getting 50k readers by August and so, at this point, I'll take what help I can get.
holy baby jesus on a stick- i've been through the wringer this week. broken hand, missed work, trying to figure out my entirely depressing taxes. All while working on a story where 3/4 of the main characters are rapists.
so, in light of being in exquisite pain and really quite a funky mood, I'm going to summarily disregard the spirit of this holiday and talk about something that I don't fundamentally understand: testicles.
That's right. I want to rant about your balls. Alright, so let's start with the basics- optimal sperm formation takes place at temperatures about 5 degrees below body heat, hence the fundamental design (thanks, nature, for figuring that out) of course, we're warm blooded fuzzy creatures, so the hair makes sense, and of course, the good old redundancy system so, two of them. sure yeah. the physiology and evolutionary advantages of the current system, I get.
Now for what I don't get: 1- talk about an obvious weak point. You'd think at some point, evolution would have figured out that they don't need quite so many sensory receptors. Sure, apparently it feels good when someone's sucking on them, but from what I hear, the slightest knock and you're singing soprano. I understand that more efficient padding or a shock-absorption system might stand to insulate the little swimmers to a point of failure, but evolution is inherently clever enough to get around shit like that. I just imagine chimps nut-shotting each other on their little chimpy battlefields. 2- if the world made any sense- men would be the ones riding side saddle. I actually looked into this- apparently before like- medical knowledge was a thing, there was a superstition saying that a woman's insides would fall out if she straddle a horse. (or perhaps men couldn't stand seeing the ankles on a hiked up dress, who knows) but back before the days where underwear was a common thing, i mean... ouch. 3-the smell. and yeah, i know the argument- nobody's that fresh downstairs after a long day, but the sweat glands actually produce a toooon more pheromones than anywhere else (save the armpits- I'd have to check) this is immediately relevant for me because of a genetic inability to smell butyric acid (which is apparently what gives sweat that distinctive "cat litter" odor) I can't smell it at all, so instead, I get a symphony of other, more pungent smells, on everyone, regardless of how recently they cleaned. 4- do you not realize how unattractive balls are? I mean this in a very analytical way- we inherently measure the aesthetics of a thing by its symmetry- I don't think I've ever in my many, many trips around the block have seen a symmetrical pair of testes (aside from my uniballer friends (you're very satisfying, thank you) but, like, even if you have the most twink-gay-pornstar tightest most rounded perfectly manicured sack, at very best, and I mean this- they look like a pair of googly eyes on an otherwise pleasant looking penis. I think maybe less than 5% of all sacks I've seen have been even moderately aesthetically pleasing. 5- and this may just be me, as a super smeller/ super taster, but- why, in god's blue fucking rock would you ever think that anyone, ever would want to put them in their mouth? Particularly if you don't man-scape on the reg. Again, i may be operating on a personal bias here because my gag reflex is super attuned to taste/smells (yeah, thrilling, i know) but think about it, if there's anything completely contrary to putting in one's mouth, it's something that's bristly and tastes vaguely of old gym socks on the best of days. no sexy times can be had from that. 6- why is body dysmorphic disorder/ plastic surgery not a regular thing? I mean- women will get their labia trimmed, tits done, all that jazz, but other than the porn industry, I've never heard of it for guys.
anywhoots. that's my fun rant of the day. I hope you're all doing something far more productive than I have these last few minutes.
hurrr. so. I realized this a while ago and have been kind of sitting on it because I just love all the delicious admiration and intellectual fodder I get from this site.
but the truth of the matter is, I've got too much in in my life to handle already to try to cultivate a meaningful relationship right now.
as wonderful as the idea of having someone unconditionally in my corner cheering for me as I grab life by the balls and ride it like a two-bit pony sounds, I realize it's unrealistic for me to just stick my neck out here with my pretty words and understanding of the art of love and bdsm and expect Mr Right to just plop into my lap.
I've had the joy of reminding myself that this shit takes work, it takes time, it takes the desire to put on anything but sweatpants and leave the house for anything but work, and answering the phone from time to time.
And no amount of systematizing my dating methodology to make it as easy and time-saving as possible can overcome the fact that I'm already LITERALLY injuring myself from working so hard.
It sucks, though. because I really want a relationship. it's among my higher priorities, but ya know, with student loans and living in LA trying to become a prolific author- staying in the black each month is far more important than getting my rocks off.
I have to look at this as a temporary setback. It's still my intention to have a profitably published book by mid-august (my 30th birthday) and likely trade one of my McJobs for something slightly higher income so I can actually work the part time schedule that I intended to when I invested in my career path.
Of course, I'm going to keep my ear to the ground and answer messages as I desire, but as far as actively looking and going through the motions- yeah, I just have to stick to my guns here and assert that I deserve better than "good enough for now"
So, it's Sunday. I hear there's a Bowl and it's supposed to be pretty Super. Which, of course, in combination with my fuzzy robes, steaming black coffee, and a fresh pack of Camel crushes- makes me feel like ranting!.
Today's rant is on conformity, and is going to sound atrociously hipster.
A little bit more about my back-story:
my HS was small, private, and extremely difficult to get into if you weren't 1- really wealthy and/or 2- really smart. Subsequently, our sports teams for which I cheered REALLY sucked. And this is where it really started to dawn on me that I only cheered because it's fun as hell to cheer, and I really didn't give a shit who or what I was cheering for. Rinse and repeat in college, where we DID have good teams, I was past the point of caring- I was just there for the band.
I've kind of widdled down in my personal anthropological philosophizing, that it's a fundamental of human nature to crave the synergistic high of getting worked up with a crowd. The way I figure it is this: long before there were pro sports, there was gladatorial combat, jousting tournaments, particularly effective hellfire and brimstone sermons, and of course, the ever-present threat of straight up going to war with the neighboring city over some slight.
We people love to cheer on violence. this goes back to my previous rant about being evolutionary predisposed to conquer. And now that we're all "civilized" the most effective way to do that, of course, is through pro sports.
Now I'm going to switch gears a bit and talk about methods of psychological control. Back when I was running my clubs and my various local scene events, I realized that I was particularly effective of setting up the context of my events in such a way that lead many (sometimes hundreds of) people into a head-space where they were willing to basically bend to my wishes. In those cases, my wishes were for them to have a great time and learn something new about themselves.
It was often said that I could take any vanilla, and talk them into taking their clothes off in public in about 5 minutes. I was able to do this by manipulating the group dynamic, using group-think and peer pressure as a tool.
For those of you that work in marketing and PR, this shouldn't be a terribly new concept- it's how most things are marketed these days- appealing to familiarity- your mother uses an iPad, therefore you need an iPad, your best friend likes Lorde, you should download the album. your church group is picketing an abortion clinic? Get out the signs!
And it works, because humans are pack animals. because "go along to get along" and "when in Rome" are axioms instilled in us since birth. Which, is kind of a double-edged sword. On the one hand, you have the stability and progress of society to consider, and the other, the fact that blind, unquestioning obedience to the status quo turns you into someone else's tool.
So, my simple solution to this little quagmire is moral agency. I recognize that I'm responsible for myself and my actions and my desires and all that. Every time I buy a pack of smokes, every time I cheer at a game I don't care about, every time I talk someone's clothes off, I do so with the understanding that while my decisions may or may not be the popular choice, it is always MY choice- and any consequences that occur are the direct result of my choice.
anywhoots, I think I've ranted enough. enjoy the game.
so last night I smoked a little too much and actually posted this rant for my vanilla constituency, I thought readers here would get a kick out of it too:
you know, I've been staring at a nearly blank essay denouncing 50sog for about 3 days now. it's not that I have writer's block, per se, it's that the more I put on the page, the more it seems my theory is missing the bigger point. I'm addressing murky legal consent issues, and basic safety instructions, when the problem is so much more vast than that. the problem isn't just an ignorant septuagenarian fanfic writer, it's the piss poor literature circulated in the first place. the problem is us.
the term "rape culture" keeps coming up, but even then, I'm pretty sure we're all agreed that rape isn't about sex, it's about power. I always end up coming back to chimp social studies when I think about this too hard: not only do chimps rape/ kidnap/ enslave the female chimps of their enemies, but the females also use something tantamount to prostitution to gain social standings in said societies.
try as I want to armchair philosophize my way out of it, I actually really do believe that wanton excitement for gratuitous destruction of our enemies is inherent to human kind (don't get me started on pro sports) and why the hell wouldn't it be. it's like watching kids on a playground- even toddlers will knock each other down and steal the other kids toys if they can- they don't have the prefrontal cortex (decision making/ superego) to stop them from doing so.
will to power as a basic instinct necessitates the ability to degrade, deprive, or utterly destroy that which one doesn't want. snapshot of history: men are slain on the battle field and the women are more or less raped and pillaged to death. this is in no one specific time period but basically all of them even after the UN declared such actions as war crimes.
why? because it's our very fundamental nature to try to dominate that which we can't tolerate.
so here's where I'm drawing a blank: what is so intolerable about a woman's right to choose what happens to her body? or any consensual acts between ANY people? why are women's nipples obscene and men's not? why don't women and men perform exactly equal duties in the armed services, or get the same pay in the private sector? Why are some countries consigned to the 3rd world and are at best pitied and more often exploited? Why do people care more about their prada bags and ray ban wayfares and xbox ones than the entire population of africa? Why do we care more about snowfall in the northeast than the results of a 4 month old investigation into the "mysterious" deaths of 43 mexican school children?
at what point did we, as a self-proclaimed "enlightened" society toss all these concerns in the "deal with later" category? so we can drink our chai lattes and youtube kitten videos.
and me? I'm probably the worst hypocrite of all. I sit on my computer and write, and work two jobs where I can come home exhausted and injured and feel good that at least today: I helped someone. But every day- I see more and more of how screwed up the world is, and I have the audacity to take a little pride in the tiny bit I'm doing to improve lives, however I can.
And I think my worst fear is that one day, I'll wake up, and consider all the inequities of the world beyond my concern. That there's nothing I can do, that I might as well enjoy my well deserved comfort and leave the progress of humanity to more capable people.
I don't know how else to say this- basically, I'm afraid to become what it seems to me like most people already are: indifferent to the suffering of others not immediately relevant to my own interests.
so to round up this long winded rant, I'll get to my point: it's not about 50 shades of gray. It's not about blacklivesmatter or lgbt equality, or even "Oh my God, can we just stop fucking killing each other?!"
it's about using that big delicious well-evolved brain that we all have up in our heads and deciding, as a whole, to not act like an animal. /rant
alrighty, it's a fresh beautiful morning with the rain having cleaned my deck for me, and I'm out here trying to figure out what to work on. In general, I've been hopping through my writing projects of late, trying to figure out which one really sends me.
so i figured, why not use my constituency on here to see what people actually care about reading, maybe that will give me some useful motivation to see one of my many unfinished works to completion (I'm aiming at having one professionally published by my 30th birthday in mid-august)
so, here's the list of a few I've been working on in the last few months:
1- article on BDSM basics and safety in reaction to the 50 shades fiasco. 2- political/action thriller about giant monster fighting hoverboard riding twins in a dystopian future. 3- political/action/ philosophical yarn about a woman who wakes up in hell with no recollection of her life and starts a social revolution among lost souls. 3- spy/action thriller about a plain-jane woman who gets extorted into cleaning for the mob, and ends up being a world class corporate spy. 4- time travel/steampunk/political story about a nerd and her smooth talking best friend that get transported back to renaissance itaily and con their way into the nobility. 5- non fiction bdsm guidebook based largely on my journals and intellectual conversations I've had on the various topics in bdsm.
so, yeah, at any given time, my brain is focusing on one of those more than reality. opinions?
weeeeeelp. today i got to say something that pretty much only people like me would ever say: "Oh, apparently I've broken my hand!"
specifically the proximal end of the 3rd left metacarpal. I played my apparently legendary game: strain, sprain, or break?
either way, i won't exactly be throwing any left hooks for the next 4 weeks, and doing my job (you know, the one where I work on people largely with my hands) should be an exciting experience in pain management!
on the upside, I'm finally writing an article to denounce the 50 Shades of Gray phenomenon as a device against a bdsm and sex-positive lifestyle due to the fundamental lack of informed consent. that is- if I can actually keep typing. my qwerty finger is busted.
universe, consider this my official request to cash in some of my karma points and get a break.
hurrrr. so i had a brilliant and victorious day at work followed by my whole right arm basically seizing at the shoulder again. it makes me think what's really missing from my life.
other than the obvious, easy access to a hot tub is high on the list.
ow... *grumble*
I just deleted a long essay about bullying based on some assholes I encountered today, but I realized as I was a page in that I was missing the point. and the point, again, is power.
part of what I feel is so wrong with the world, and what I've dedicated my life to is understanding the fundamentals of power- 1) what is it 2) how do you get it and 3) what do you do when you have it.
I could go on and on about this, but considering my experiences today, I'll just put a summary out to the universe and refine my thoughts later.
1) power is the ability to influence and ultimately control the actions of others. 2) one achieves power through extensive knowledge. 3) when you have power, you do whatever the fuck you want with it, according to your own moral compass.
but most importantly. power is a means to an end, not an end in itself. (this is the direction of my moral compass, anyway) what matters more than any philosophical abstracts are tangible results. how else will you know when you've gotten what you wanted?
my ideal tangible results can be summarized as: 1) my personal comfort and well-being 2) that of my loved ones 3) that of my social groups, communities, and the world
the power to destroy is limited. you can destroy an individual's life, suppress and misrepresent an entire culture- hell, it wouldn't take much to wipe out a noticeable swath of the planet... but ultimately- it becomes a slanted risk/benefit analysis.
but i truly believe that true power lies in creation: of a life, of a unifying idea and actionable plan, of meaningful relationships, and results that will transcend our small little lifetimes.
maybe this makes me idealistic and naive, maybe it gives me the courage of my convictions, or maybe it's just nothing but the stressed out rantings of a very sore massage therapist.
oh, note to self- rant about libertines and 50shades next.
well, it's my morning off and I've got my coffee and cigarettes and a mind full of thoughts I'm unable to apply to getting more sleep because there's a bathtub being installed directly above my room.
So, I will ponder the mystery that is gender fixation. Or should I say- genital fixation.
I spend a lot of time weeding through the dregs of the internet to stay fresh on what the proletariat consider relevant- and I keep running across the term "Chicks with dicks" and despite it being a rude way to classify a mtf pre-op transitioned woman, I actually like it better than most of the other colloquialisms because it at least fundamentally acknowledges their gender: a chick.
To clarify: I'm regarding only women who happen to have a y chromosome, and not any of the other lifestyle choices that involve presenting as a woman: sissies, cross dressers, drag queens, female impersonators,etc- but women who recognize that they are a different gender than what the plumbing would suggest.
similarly, I had the joy of overhearing a fantastically ignorant conversation between two of my coworkers about lesbians- they weren't aware of the terms "lipstick", "chapstick" and "butch" but it went something like this: "if they want to be with a girl, why be with a girl that tries to look like a guy?" All I could do was laugh and get back to work.
This indicates to me a horrific gap in public awareness of the major distinctions between gender PREFERENCE, gender IDENTITY, and adherence to gender NORMS.
A few years ago, i wrote an essay proposing expanding the Kinsey scale to a 3D axis of total sexual identification, to summarize: x axis preference, as Kinsey posed 0-6 (0=het 6=homo), then the Y axis would be gender identity- (0=female 6=male), and z axis is traditional (or bdsm based) gender roles (0=submissive, 6=dominant). making straight submissive women (0,0,0) and gay top men (6,6,6) and bi andro switches (3,3,3)
Unfortunately, I don't exactly have the credentials to bring my little theory into the mainstream, but I still adhere to it in my own worldview. But, I consider one of the elegant things I enjoy about my mind candy is that at no point does it require actually having one set of plumbing over another.
I feel it's unfortunate that more people don't subscribe to my genital-blindness. I feel a lot of hate-crimes against the trans community would be avoided if people let go of the shock and awe of those who identify as a different axis than what biology indicates.
Maybe I should stop it here before I get into rape-culture and "feminism"
Ah, maybe just a little more: as a personality-androgynous, sapiosexual, dominant (3,3,6 for those of you keeping track) I have tasted the rainbow of many points along the axis, and as a functional point- no matter what my partner is packing in their drawers, I have never found myself disappointed with the mechanical results. To be crass: A pole, a hole- we live in the time of toys it makes no fucking difference.
moral of the story- next time you see a beautiful lady or dapper gentleman you find attractive, and find yourself questioning their "true" gender- it is whatever the hell they say it is. because sexual identity is not, and should not be, determined by biology.
today, the most important man that has ever been in my life turns 71: my dad. Since daddy issues are a hot topic on this site, I'll take a moment to rant about my own.
My dad, the Colonel, the rocket scientist, the boss of bosses... has been instrumental in my development- obviously.
Ever since I was a baby in arms, my dad has gone out of his way to teach me new things- I was literally skin-diving in the coral reefs of Seychelles before walking came naturally to me. Once he knew I was a competent swimmer, he had absolutely no reservations about letting me- the 2 year old toddle right to the deep end of the pool and jump right in (we used to play a game with picking up coins in a single breath)
When I was 5, we moved back to America, and immediately, he put me in the left seat of a piper cub (or cesna, can't recall, exactly) and taught me how to fly. he taught me the fundamentals of flight (elevation, pitch/roll/yaw) by a "5 puppies in a bag" approach- x,y,z,time,and energy. We also learned to figure skate together and actually went to compete in the very young and very old age groups, respectively.
when i was 12, he sat me down and told me that my mom was going to get remarried to a man in colorado, and that he wouldn't be there all the time- but he would be there as much as i needed him- so at least once a month, all throughout high school, he would fly out to visit- take me shopping, go to movies, have awesome dinners and hit the spa.
when i was in college in the central coast, he would randomly show up on weekends and be like "hey, I'm over checking out the auto-shop, did you know you had a solar car racing team!?" and he saw almost every performance i did in orchestra, symphony, and marching band. for my 22nd birthday, all i wanted to do was build a garden in my apartment, so he bought me my first electrical toolkit and taught me how to rewire my porch lights and place my garden hangers in the right spots.
when i told him that i was a domme, he didn't really understand at first and thought it was a "porn thing" but later, came to realize that it was me having the relationships that i was meant to have, and became friends with many of my subs. he even invited my ex (a girl) to our family reunion to show support for my lifestyle choices.
when i was severely depressed, he let me move back in with him to live for a spell, having conversations every night trying to rationally discuss what it was i needed from him, and supported me in not only my psychological needs, but also my irrational desire to forsake my training as a biochemist so that i can pursue massage and writing full time.
in this last year, he let me enroll him into the leadership program that i was doing, and loved it- it drastically changed the way we communicated, and gave him the kick in the ass he needed to finally start thinking about retirement.
so yeah, like most people, i compare myself, and everyone i meet to my dad. he showed me that the good of heart wake up every day and do all they can to spread a little more goodness into the world. he taught me to love unconditionally, starting with myself, and to treat everyone with kindness, respect, and compassion.
my dad is my hero, and my daddy issues, if i have them, involve putting aside what bothers me and live "in service to others'
Oi, so, alright- I haven't been in the best of moods of late, between getting injured, getting sick, the holidays, and a series of interpersonal irritations- I've been losing my sense of humor about my search for my dream sub.
And I'd like to take a moment and clear with myself, and all of my readers on this- because it's important that I approach my quest from the right mindset (because otherwise it leads to poor choices, settling, and more inevitable upsets). So, to aid my ranting, I'm going to make a list of all the things that I've noticed haven't been working.
1- falling in love should be effortless and joyous- in accordance with the "fuck yes" article in my profile, which I'm sticking to, even if we have a series of wonderful conversations, and I don't feel that *click* in my gut- then I'm probably not going to take the time to meet you. 2- at no time did i pledge allegiance to the phone. I think my vmail box has been full for about 3 months now. I seldom reply to texts that are not business related, and frankly other than pandora while I'm driving, I hardly ever use it. 3- compliments are not conversation starters- and the ONLY way to appeal to me is through stimulating conversation. 4- I try to be polite to everyone, but sometimes, i just don't have the bandwidth to respond to non locals/ out of my age range/ not what i'm looking for people. 5- I work 2-4 jobs (depending on how you want to define "job") to maintain my lifestyle. I gave up a promising career in biotech to do massage and write and I don't regret it, but I don't exactly have a lot of free time because I'm busy busting my ass living my dream. If your schedule doesn't work with my schedule, that sucks, but mama's got to pay the bills. 6- i've said it before, but just to reiterate: my rejecting you based on you not fitting my specific criteria is not an affront to your ego any more than me saying "it's 65 and sunny outside." repeated insults and/or pleas for attention reflect more on your lack of self worth than anything about me. 7- BDSM is a numbers game as much as it is anything else- for every one talented and qualified domme, there are 100 talented and qualified subs. I wish it wasn't so, but it is- don't take it personally. 8- I spend 6 days a week taking care of other people's problems. it's physically and emotionally exhausting, and sometimes- all I want on sunday is to sit back with a pint of ice cream and read- I don't have the bandwidth for energy-suckers. 9- I've clawed my way out of a hell you could not fathom to make to the life I have right now- I'm a flawed person, and I proudly own my flaws because they're some of my most interesting features. I don't need anyone else to point them out for me. 10- I'm picky. I'm demanding. I'm hard to get a hold of when I want to be left alone, and I don't have any time to waste. That being said: I'm worth every aggravating moment of it.
I'm not being floral when I say in my profile that I want a relationship based on excellence. It's not a fantasy- it's something that I'm quite capable of creating right now. When I finally find the person I'm looking for- I'm going to make dreams come true because that's what I do, and I'm damn good at it!
so, yeah, that's kind of where I'm at in my head right now. someone smart once said "I'm not saying it will be easy, I'm saying it will be worth it" and that's how I want to treat my search.
it truly befuddles me how some people like actively go out of their way to be a dick to me. not even like passive assholishness, but active "it is my intention to make your day worse" fuckery
as frustrating as it is, I keep trying to stay positive- but days like today I just want to give the world at large two big middle fingers and stay in my little cave watching netflix
today at work, I had the joy of interrupting what I presume was a homeless person from sodomizing a transgender (what I presume was a) prostitute directly in front of our storefront.
Normally, I'd say hey- live and let live, but there were 6 extremely scandalized coworkers looking out, daunted by the fact that there was about to be a sex act preformed for them. Luckily, the pair caught wise to the audience and moved on to what I can only hope was a slightly more appropriate location.
I fucking love living in LA.
I had a really interesting conversation tonight, which makes me want to rant about my style of communication/ dominance.
I'll first state that I don't play (non-consensual) games, and I value clear communication and establishing permission more than just about anything else. It's paramount to SSC, as well as adult relationships.
That being said- one of my methods is to communicate in such a way that establishes all relationships- both BDSM and professional, and friends/family as a collaborative venture.
Of course, in BDSM, this gets a little fuzzy, because it's easier for people to be told explicitly what to do and how to do it. Which I do- when I consider it necessary. But in most of my regular conversations- I ask for opinions and feedback instead of issuing imperative declarative statements. For example "Would you rather go to sushi or something else?" versus "Let's go get sushi."
In my experience, this makes many things easier- giving people ample opportunity to speak their mind. I have absolutely no problems making command decisions, but my style of communication is more from a "choose your own adventure" kind of mindset.
I feel this makes it very clear that when I do use simple declarations like "take off your clothes" or "go to bed" they're intuitively interpreted as less negotiable. Neuro-linguistic programming and pavlovian conditioning are some of my hobbies, but my ultimate goal in BDSM, as in just about all relationships is that I want my desires to be other's desires. Just like any good marketing strategy- I try to make people want what I want them to want.
just a thought...
I've got to say, it's not shaping up to be my week with my head cold and the reappearance of my most recent (yes, i have to chronologically assign them) stalker.
Here's the thing: I'm all about consensual power exchange. It's happy yummy good stuff right there, but the problem is: there is not a force in this world that would compel me to do something that I don't want to do.
Now, in my experience, I've mostly attracted the "rejection/resentment" type stalker. It makes an oblong kind of sense to me- at some point, I've given these men reason to hope for something more with me, but- I'd like to think I'm pretty clear when I'm breaking things off. It usually goes like "this doesn't work for me, this is why, I hope you get what you're looking for, yadda yadda" and I think this is both respectful, and abundantly clear. It's usually followed by a lot of insults and a juvenile grasping of whatever power they can get (which is usually a slew of insults about how crazy I am) which is followed a few days/weeks/months/years later by a series of apologies.
And this is probably where I fall short- I sometimes entertain conversations with said people- mostly because if I like someone enough to give them access to my contact information, I trust them enough to be responsible with it, and I genuinely enjoy supporting people to learn from what isn't working for them.
But the repeated midnight texts, the blowing up my inboxes (on multiple sites), and the desperate attempt to insult me into feeling bad enough to reconsider my position regarding our relationship- that shit doesn't fly.
At this point, I'm really lucky, because most of the people I meet don't know where I live or work. I'm extra-cautious about this considering how many times I've dealt with this shit. I get it, I'm highly desirable and even my most polite attempts to let someone down easily can be interpreted by those with low self confidence as a personal attack on their ego- which leads to retaliatory attempts to regain a sense of control.
But, and I'll state this for the record: it doesn't work. I can not be controlled. I can not be manipulated or threatened into submission, it just doesn't work. Just give it up and move on.
yah know, being all feverish and drunk on nyquil has given me a unique perspective on being sick
i imagine it's kind of like a really elongated scene where there are no safewords- just surrendering your body to the inevitable and trying to enjoy it as best you can. after you get over the obvious discomfort it really just feels like a nice, somber, prolonged high- but with phlegm.
oi. I finally came down with that head cold that's been going around. This would be one of those moments that I really wish I had someone in my life to bring me chicken soup and rub my feet til I feel better.
Going over all my copy again, it blows my mind that I managed to miss something very obvious about me that I'd like to think is really important: self-actualizing
I try to live my life (particularly as applied to kink) at the top of Maslow's hierarchy. If I'm not self-actualizing with everything I do, I"m basically just wasting time (not that that's a bad thing, but I've got goals I want to meet sooner rather than later)
Part of my particular self-actualization involves spending a lot of time in my little fantasy world of pure imagination- but that's because I want to be a prolific author with a dream life that will inspire others to make the same lifestyle choices.
This means that I have ABSOLUTELY no time in my schedule for bullshit, flakes, or people on the fence about how deep down the rabbit hole they want to go. I wish I did, you're all wonderful people with many fine qualities but my focus in my life is me- before anything or anyone else.
And that's not to say that I don't give selflessly (and relentlessly) to my partners and those people who I value as friends, making their priorities my own; but if you're not focused and committed- please, be considerate of my time, because my opportunity costs are pretty high.
I'd like to rant a little bit about the concept of "ownership". interestingly, definitions are all synonymous with possession and belonging.
I constantly hear from one of my roomies about how since he "owns" some item or another, the household should provide care for his possessions in such and such a way as to not damage it. (Yes, it's annoying, but he's anal retentive in general, so the household humors him with his semblance of environmental control)
Then I get on here and get literally up to 100 emails a day talking about ownership (yes, I'm aware there are mail filters, but I genuinely enjoy chatting with different people all around the world about how kink affects their lives in their cultures, so I suck it up)
I see this desire to be "owned" breaking down into two fundamental parts- 1- the desire to feel a deep sense of belonging (given primarily by the neurochemical oxytocin, with a little splash of dopamine to boost that fun feeling of satisfaction) and 2- the desire to be "objectified" and treated as a possession. This one, I still don't quite understand the draw but I figure there's got to be some sort of endorphin/ dopamine kick to justify the desire.
I also get hung up on the idea of intellectual property in this way. one of my fears is that someone will plagiarize one of my books (it's an irrational fear, but it always lights the fire under my ass to secure my information). Now, if I was the zen master I like to think that I am, it wouldn't matter if someone else published my yarns, because at least I'd know that they're out being read and valued- doing what I made them to do.
In my past D/s relationships, I operated with that kind of zen in a poly aspect. I can't even count the number of times I've enjoyed watching my subs play with others- and felt the joy that I can only imagine someone would have by showing off a prized possession. And I suppose, like my particular roomie, that I sent them off into the world with specific care instructions.
However for me, it was never about "ownership" or IP, so much as instilling a deep sense of belonging. Jealousy is not an emotion that I can easily process. I used to say having an open relationship is a lot like having a cat- you can put them out at night- but they always know where home is. I felt like my subs knew where they belonged. It was a connection so fundamental that I almost never gave it a second thought.
so, moral of the rant, i guess, is that I don't claim "ownership" of my subs. I just create circumstances where they have no doubt in their mind that they belong with me.
sooooooonofabitch.
Alright, it's been pointed out to me that I'm falling back into my intensely flaky "not getting back to people" habit. It's something that I've done before that doesn't really work for me all that well.
I'd give the normal copouts like "I hate my phone and refuse to check my voicemail box more than once a month, and texts like- once a day."
The truth is I have the memory of a goldfish swimming around a bowl and i get into all these awesome bright shiny conversations but if it's not like being dangled right in front of me, I'll forget it was there.
I have a whole long speech about assumed social contracts in instant communication these days, but realistically- if you want my attention, you have to keep getting my attention until it becomes a habit for me. It's not that I'm not interested, I just don't have the bandwidth to keep all conversations on instant recall.
that being said, my flakiness is really only about phone communication- as anyone who's been emailing with me can tell you- I'm pretty much always on my computer. And if I make plans in real life, I bend heaven and earth to meet them because being my word is really super valuable to me and sets a precedent in a relationship.
/Mia culpa.
Haaa, ok this is the bad person that I try to not be speaking:
Just had a hilarious email exhange where someone said something that didnt make sense, so naturally, I replied with something that made even less sense. Then they got confused and angry and I just got sillier. Moral of the story: someone blocked me, which is just lolsome.
To clarify, I'm a VERY silly person, and gladly reign my wacky hijinks on unsuspecting prey. Must be at least this tall and have a sense of humor to ride my ride.
It never ceases to amaze me how frequently people tell me something that immediately translates in my mind as "I want to stick my penis in you" and expect it to land as a compliment.
Don't get me wrong, physical attraction is important in my potential relationships, but honestly- do I look like the kind of girl who needs compliments on her appearance? Or is that the only way you know how to communicate?
If I had no skin, no legs, no arms (ok, no arms would suck) I'd still be every bit of the marvelous creature that I am- because I'm a human BEING. Not a human-doing, or a human-looking. (Ok, I'm those too, I'm looking for a little nuance in my metaphor, stick with it.)
I'd like to think that I'm kind of a unicorn around these parts not because I happen to look fan-fuckin-tastic in a little black dress, but because I have a razor-sharp mind. I'm not here to be a piece of human artwork (though, like everyone, I am a masterpiece) I'm here to be one lucky sub's luxury ride to the bottom of the psycho-sexual rabbit hole into a wonderland of spiritual and sensational synergy.
So basically- if you stop thinking of terms of meat-market swipe-right "hey look BOOBIES!" and start thinking in terms of "how can this person help me fulfill my wildest expectations?" maybe you'd get more accomplished.
Just a thought. ^_^
I've noticed on this, and many other dating sites the phenomenon of what I like to call the "ab selfie" where men take a shirtless picture with a camera directly in front of their face showing off their rock hard six pack.
Now, I support body positivism as much as anyone, but every time I see that, I just think of captioning it as "THIS IS THE MOST INTERESTING THING ABOUT ME!!! LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH I CAN DEADLIFT OMG!!!" (yes, in all caps)
Then again, I'm just one of those lucky girls who happen to get a lot of emails from people where their body IS the most interesting thing about them- which, in fact, is not interesting to me at all.
I love the human body, but I work with it all day every day- It's no more enticing to me than a chunk of steak is to a chef.
Since so many people have asked me about this, I'm just going to post the link here.
This is my first published book. It's kind of a fluffer, but people seem to enjoy it.
so starts another day where i'm off work due to a shoulder injury. joy of formidable joys. I'm bored as hell, and like the best thing I can do is go through and edit one of my books- but that involves like... rigor and discipline.
it makes me miss my childhood- where it's like- I'm bored, let's play blocks for 5 hours in a row!
so... yeah, feel free to send me amusing articles and what to help alleviate my convalescence
this is by far one of my favorite poems of all time:
We have come to be danced not the pretty dance not the pretty pretty, pick me, pick me dance but the claw our way back into the belly of the sacred, sensual animal dance the unhinged, unplugged, cat is out of its box dance the holding the precious moment in the palms of our hands and feet dance
We have come to be danced not the jiffy booby, shake your booty for him dance but the wring the sadness from our skin dance the blow the chip off our shoulder dance the slap the apology from our posture dance
We have come to be danced not the monkey see, monkey do dance one, two dance like you one two three, dance like me dance but the grave robber, tomb stalker tearing scabs & scars open dance the rub the rhythm raw against our souls dance
WE have come to be danced not the nice invisible, self conscious shuffle but the matted hair flying, voodoo mama shaman shakin’ ancient bones dance the strip us from our casings, return our wings sharpen our claws & tongues dance the shed dead cells and slip into the luminous skin of love dance
We have come to be danced not the hold our breath and wallow in the shallow end of the floor dance but the meeting of the trinity: the body, breath & beat dance the shout hallelujah from the top of our thighs dance the mother may I? yes you may take 10 giant leaps dance the Olly Olly Oxen Free Free Free dance the everyone can come to our heaven dance
We have come to be danced where the kingdom’s collide in the cathedral of flesh to burn back into the light to unravel, to play, to fly, to pray to root in skin sanctuary We have come to be danced WE HAVE COME
I've had a few people bring up "cuckolding" to me.
I have to admit, despite my years of experience, this concept has never really clicked for me. I was pretty much born poly- I've known I was into both boys and girls since I was like 4 years old.
The idea that one person can be 100% of what the other needs seems, well, beautiful, but impractical when there aren't a whole lot of hermaphrodites around. (I'll admit, it's part of why I love me some trans-people) But the concept that openly and honestly communicating and actualizing on a desire to be with other people is somehow humiliating or hurtful- it never really sunk in.
I see love as an infinite resource, and surely, at this point in my life, I wouldn't bother having sex with someone I did not already love, but I would never do it at the expense of someone's feelings.
Maybe someone can enlighten me?
today I'm in an exceptional amount of pain. like- hard to walk my back/shoulder is so fucked up and more than once have i blinked back a tear.
I just wish I knew someone with a hot tub so I could soak/ jet my aches away :(
I was having an interesting discussion about my acceptance criteria last night. How it seems ostensibly simple and yet, apparently pretty difficult to find.
1- intellectual compatibility: if I don't get excited about having a conversation with someone, there's no hope. 2- lifestyle compatibility: not just interest in similar aspects of bdsm, but every day life stuff like: are you capable of providing for yourself and making adult decisions about time and money 3- physical compatibility: obviously, we have to want to fuck the hell out of one another from the moment our eyes meet, for men- that means average (or above) sized equipment, and the relative size of our combined body mass must be able to achieve insertion. (it's kinda sad that i have to specify this, but hey, I call it how I see it.) 4- romantic compatibility: i must absolutely love my partner, and they must love me, i mean eros, agape, philia sort of broad spectrum love.
hell, since I'm being particular, let's get ballpark low threshold numbers: IQ= 115+, income: negotiable but above POL levels in your neighborhood. Penis length: 4.5+ inches. body fat- lets call it under 35%, and a true desire to get your D/s relationship started ASAP.
Part of the feedback I've received from the people I've talked to on here is that I come off as kind and positive. Which, I'm very happy is getting through- because I *am* kind and positive.
But it also makes me a little sad that being that way isn't baseline. In the last couple of years, I've mentored some wonderful vanilla women who knew nothing more than Mistress Spanksalot jokes and Fifty Shades of Gray to indicate that the lifestyle exists. In a lot of ways, it's easier to create a "good domme" out of a vanilla than it is to apply a spark of humanity to some of the ego-maniacs I've heard horror stories about.
And somehow, I keep getting drawn in to correcting misconceptions about feminism. So, let me clarify- feminism in no way relates to female superiority. And, like so many other hashtagable social movements, it misses the bigger picture: everyone is human, everyone deserves compassion and respect regardless of gender identity, sexual preferences, race, religion, nationality, political ideology, yadda yadda yadda.
That's one of the reasons honoraries bug the hell out of me- they set us apart. It starts communication with assumed roles and not as equals working together to create the best outcome. I get that it's a historically relevant practice that is supposed to show respect, but honestly, respect is in actions. I can't feel respected by someone who doesn't first respect themselves.
And that's not to say that I don't believe that some people have by result of their actions set themselves apart as superior and inferior- but then, that's my perceptual filter. Human beings are quick to judge other's worth by what they see, and what they want to believe. I want to believe that superior people are naturally kind, work hard to stay positive, and treat others with the respect that they would like to be treated with.
I think with the depth of the physical and emotional straights that consensual play can put people in, we're basically called to behave with a level of compassion that is greater than average society. Kinksters play a bigger game, ideally, we should behave like better people.
Wow, I was kind of all over the place with this one. moral of the story: be the best person that you can be. always.
I'm inclined to talk about fitness. I'll be the first to admit, I'm not looking my best these days- working out and toning up have been low on my list of priorities.
That being said, I'm pretty much the most physically strong woman I've ever met (baring some ripped military chicks), I look pretty much fantastic in whatever I want to wear, and I'm pretty damn sexy in the buff.
Still, I've got some work to do. Any potential relationship I get into will have to take that into consideration. I'd love to have a partner to encourage me to be my physical best and work out with me, while still worshiping my every curve.
Just sayin... ^_^
gah, it's so me to write out this long, eloquent blog and then be like "oh I wanted to add this whole other thing" well, okay, it's excessive, and it's bad form, but I'm just that kind of rebel so read it and contemplate.
6- "Findoms" I believe, if memory serves, that means "financial domination" which... ... I'm still not quite sure WHAT that means. See, I worked as a pro for quite some time which was like- "okay you're going to trade me the coin of the realm for goods and (legal) services." and that made sense to me.
What doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me is a "All ur moneis r belong to me" sort of mentality.
Perhaps my constituency can write me an email and give me your collective opinion, because even trades, I understand. Hell, spoiling I understand.
I think the closest I've ever come to financial domination was having a boyfriend/sub I was dating at the time who made like 6x more than me pay for all our dates. It wasn't necessary but I wasn't complaining. I work freakin hard for my benjamins and I like to keep them, so yeah, that makes sense to me.
But, what is this "findom"? Is it like a sugar daddy/baby relationship but the one doing all the taking gets all the benefit? Like, sugar relationships I get too: when you reach a certain income point you get to buy more unique and valuable toys. but... that pretty much inherently objectifies the toy and I don't see how that really meshes with (at least my brand of) domination.
I would seriously love to hear peoples' opinions on this. Shoot me an email.
Peace, Freakballs! :*
sweet, merciful monkeyballs. there is just a whole grip of negativity like oozing from some of the people I've seen on here. Not to say that I'm generally a Little Mary Sunshine optimist all the time.
Once again, I've been reminded of the abusive patterns that permeate so many of us wildly kinky people. And not the fun kind of abuse either, not the: "I'm going to ride you hard and put you out wet and expect a nice handwritten thank you note for it" it's more the: "I don't see how you can look yourself in the mirror and not cry each morning" kind.
I'm going to have to add that to my hard-limits. At no time will I be party to emotional or physical abuse to anyone, about anything, ever. So *neh!*
Alright, I'll count that as my daily affirmation, but here, since I'm trying to keep my journal both philosophical and a helpful tool to readers, allow me to impart my considerable wisdom: 1- all human bodies are amazing, beautiful things. from the "I want to eat sushi off your abs" to the "Okay, here's some soap on a stick" Bodies are how our spirits (if you buy into that) experience the world, you only get one, and despite what it looks like, it deserves respect and care. 2- Gender bending= yay! Humiliation from gender bending= not yay. hear me out on this one, because I've put boys in dresses for a really long time, and it's NOT because i think looking like a female is humiliating. I happen to be a female. it's pretty rad. If you want to see yourself in a different way wearing things you were born and raised in the closeted states of america, I'm in full support. If you do it to denigrate yourself or my gender, I'm not. Easy peasy. 3- STOP SHAMING SLUTS!!! I get it, dirty talk can be hot, it can result an emotional reaction and has its uses- but don't act like being a sex-positive being is a negative thing- it doesn't serve anyone aside from the right-wing conservative media who make money off the idea that a healthy sex life isn't a good thing. 4- Try to break out of the stereotypical "Femdom means corset and heels and makeup and blah blah blah" mentality. I'm as dominant (rawr!) in a flannel shirt and crocs as I am stark ass naked, or lookin' decked to the nines. I get it, your body is your billboard and what you wear does and should reflect on you- but skill and ability and conceptual understanding of what it is to BE dominant- that's inherent. 5- rejection doesn't have to affect your ego. This might be shocking to some- but if I reject you, it's not because I don't respect you, it's not because you're not "good enough" for me, you're probably a wonderful person with many fine qualities but your puzzle piece doesn't fit in my grand design. Telling you "no" is my way of respecting you and your time. (I kind of want everyone to be happy and get what they want, it's a thing I do)
So, that's my rant of the day. I hope it helps. Be well, freaky darlings, and enjoy the weekend!
After less than 48 hours back on this site, I am reminded of exactly why I left not only that, but the scene at large: a general lack of integrity and authenticity.
Coming back into it after my prolonged hiatus, I realize how easy it is to fall into the habit of putting on a mask and playing a pre-conceived role for the sake of getting superficial desires sated.
I feel like I've finally overcome being so jaded by the shortcomings of others, which allows me to openly and honestly screen through my flooded inbox. It's not personal, I'm sure most of you who contact me are wonderful people in your own right- I just want something very specific, and at this point, it's easy for me to determine what has a chance of working for me or not.
If you managed to watch my webinar on the previous post, I wrap it up with a very concise breakdown of the art of negotiation. for clarity, I'll summarize: 1- I want: 2- You want: 3- My limitations 4- Your limitations 5- what we bring to the table to overcome those limitations and 6- specific, actionable details.
At this stage in my life, I'm confident in asserting that I have nothing to prove to anyone, and my intended partner will have nothing to prove to me. To reference the link currently in my profile- the only thing that is not an immediate "no" is a "fuck yes"
Coming from that mindset, I've actually found myself enjoying the search. ^_^
welp, i just tried to record a video journal and realized my stupid webcam was killed when my brilliantly dropped my lappy on a concrete step last week. hooray!
i haven't been on this site in about 4 years, but if memory serves, there are a lot of fake profiles- so i wanted to do the whole "I'm really quite authentic" thing. Guess I'll have to rely on my wit and charm.
