Happy Halloween!

From ghoulies and ghosties

This is actually a cake, if you can believe it!

and long-legged beasties

to things that go bump in the night,

Enjoy it all!

(ok, that's paraphrasing but I'm going with it!)

My Understanding Lets Me Down

He and I had a conversation the other night that got me thinking… 

   and now I'm making myself crazy with running in circles. 

It's a ridiculous little thing, but…

I've mentioned before that I really dislike being called "beautiful", right?

"Beauty" is a construct of perfection -- and I am far from perfect. So it's a false compliment. 

Not that I don't enjoy compliments, but pick one that rings true, ok?

I want you to appreciate me for who I am, not what I look like. 

  (Or what you think I might want to look like.)

Another dating blunder that I find maddening is the tendency to assume that a couple of dates makes a couple. I've hardly made it to the point where I can recall your face but you're planning next summer's vacation together? Uh, no. You don't know me well enough to even be sure how I take my coffee, much less to have determined that we are long-term compatible. This is just desperation talking.

And once again, that's the wrong approach.

I want you to appreciate me for who I am, not for simply being a warm body.

So now, here I am in a D/s relationship.

And I am realizing that, much tho' I fought those other bases of attraction… 

   I at least understood them.

But this thing…?

   this submissive bitch thing…?

has me stumped.

Because he's not with me for what I look like, 

   or just because I'm a warm body to tie up.

No, he's here for something entirely different -- and I can't wrap my head around that.

My ears hear, "I ADORE your submissiveness"… 

   but my brain keeps looking for the catch.

It wants something concrete to pin his regard to -- and a mere willing attitude just doesn't seem enough. So I grasp at straws, thinking, "well, surely it's…"

     but no -- not even close.

Of course, the up side to this is that I don't have to dismiss him for his dubious criteria.

The down side, however, is that I now spend half my time just wondering why the hell he's with me. Because apparently, those reasons I loathe are, nonetheless, the only ones I'm capable of actually comprehending.

*sigh*

We are such unfathomable creatures…

Ten to One - Day Eight

Day Eight: Three top turn-ons

I didn't actually enjoy this one very much, I have to admit.

Seems silly, I suppose. This is probably a question most people could handle with relative ease. But turn-ons are so very, very person-specific, it's hard to unpack them into generalities.

There are certainly traits that I cannot do without in someone I'm turned on by… but others can share these same traits and not raise the temperature in the room by the smallest iota…

Oh well. Once again, it's the question, tho'...

So here are three of the over-arching "must-have"s.

(just don't go considering them a Guarantee of Success!)

1- Intelligence

(couldn't see that one coming a mile away, could ya?)

2- Humor

(Humor is an innate thing for me, a huge component of pleasure. Never take yourself so seriously that you can't welcome it into *any* moment of life...)

3- Know How to Touch

(granted, what we enjoy varies from person to person. But a little sensuality and a smidge of intuition shall carry thee far through the jungle, manling…)

Ten to One - Day Seven

I know these aren't necessarily rocking people's bloggy worlds, but I started this -- and I'm going to finish it, by gum! So...

Day Seven: Four top turn-offs.

1- The Reek of Cigarettes

(many noxious effluvia can be forgiven but this one is a no-go.) 

(I will note that not everyone who smokes, reeks. But when it's in your clothes and your hair and your car…? When I can smell you from several feet away…? Pass, thanks.)

2- Arrogance

(I generally disagree on principle with men who assure me they're great.)

3- Early-Onset Clingyness

(Not really found much in the dominant community but boy-howdy is there a lot of it out there! And I for one am not charmed by it.)

4- Pushiness

(Warning: this is not only a huge turn-off, it's also the quickest way imaginable to get the gloves of civility to come off. SP once saw me respond to being pushed and told me, years later, "I'm quite sure he has never successfully maintained an erection ever since…")

Next, you'll hear about three turn-ons.

(How *did* this person know there would be more things that turn me off than turn me on??)

In Which I Channel Don Ho

So, I looked down at my chest this morning…

   and the next thing I knew, I had burst into song:

        (to the tune of "Tiny Bubbles")

                              Tiny bruises

                              On my breast

                              Make me happy

                              Make me feel fine

                              Tiny bruises

                              Make me smile all over

                              With the feeling that they're aching

                              Cuz someone has said, "they're mine"

                              So I think about the velvet voice

                              And I think about the magic hands

                              But mostly what I think

                              Is "mmm, yes please"

Do you think The Ambassador of Aloha would mind?

(And, more importantly, should I be more alarmed by the extemporization itself or the fact that I actually knew that many stanza's worth of lyrics…?)

Ten to One - Day Six

Day Six: Five people who mean a lot to me (in no particular order)

I'm going to take a bit of a cop-out and exclude family from this list. They matter hugely to me, but I have decided to limit this to people that I met through serendipity, and voluntarily chose to become close to… Plus, this particular bunch consists of people that I really don't argue with... and, given that a- I'm persnickety and b-I've known most of them for over 30 years, that's no small feat! They warrant recognition for that alone!

So, in no particular order…

1- SP

It's not an exaggeration to say that I cannot imagine what my life would be like if I had never met SP, he is that central to The Story of Jz. In a very real way, SP let me realize my dreams of what life can hold. We carved out a relationship that has never fit any external mold, yet makes perfect sense to both of us. He is my soulmate, my linchpin, a part of me. 

I would not be who I am without what I learned from him.

(And holy cow, can he make me laugh!)

2- Book Man

The most articulate, reasoned, bookish, and thoughtful "pointy-headed intellectual" of my acquaintance, Book Man is also the only person I know who can give SP a run for the money in making me laugh 'til I cry. He is one of the most genuinely good people on the planet… but with an unequaled line in snark, which is the redeeming quality that allows him to still qualify to be a friend of mine. (;-p)

Book Man is the chum I turn to for those long, deep conversations about nothing of great importance … but much of keen interest. Knowing him keeps my brain supple. :-)

3- Tiny Woman

Anyone who can stay one of my best friends for 43 years must surely rate a mention here. Tiny Woman is the sister I never had. She's sensible, reliable, mischievous, and mind-blowing bright. (And really, really tiny, did I mention??) 

We look absurd together, but that hasn't slowed us down yet. (Well, except for that time I stretched my legs in her car and actually pushed the bench seat back far enough that her foot came right off the gas pedal…)

4- Kraken

Kraken was my first kindred spirit ever -- and has held this position for over 40 years. We're about as different as two people can be on the outside but on the inside, we achieve about 80% similarity. (His wife spends an awful lot of time shaking her head when she's sitting (outnumbered!) between the two of us) ;-p

The truly fun thing about him is that, not only do we have that instinctive, easy comfort with each other, we also think very much alike, as well. (Like, VERY much.) It's kind of like having your own personal mental echo…

Which he and I find quite agreeable, no matter what the rest of the world may say!  ;-D

5- BG

BG didn't just make the cut because he's my dom and the man in my life (altho' either of those things would qualify him, in and of itself.) It goes deeper than that. BG would still mean a lot to me even if the break-up had held, because he gave me back my faith in life. 

After a long string of beaux who were perfectly nice but who failed to touch my soul, I was honestly and truly starting to wonder if the fault was with me -- if I needed to let go of childish fantasies and accept that the world simply loses magic as you get older… But with BG, I found my belief again. And even if he never gave me anything else (not that that's the case, but let's pretend for a minute) that affirmation is such a wonderful gift that I'd have to put him on this list anyhow!  

Ten to One - Day Five

Day Five: Six things I wish I’d never done.

This one was a bit challenging for me because there really aren't all that many things I sit around and kick myself for… Some, sure. I'm human. But the majority of unfortunate decisions I have made were made for good reason … and had good things come of them eventually. Plus, they've all brought me to where I am now and, despite the odd stubbed toe, for the most part, I like it here. 

So this was a hard one for me.

But it is the question given, so I shall do my best.

(Even if my brain seems to have downgraded it to "wish I hadn't" instead...)

1- Wasted four years taking French instead of Russian

       I thought French would be easier -- Wrong! 

2- Fallen for the, "this is the kind of guy you should be dating" hype

       In my efforts to please, I forgot to be me -- and paid the price.

3- Let myself get out of the habit of exercising

       They don't lie when they tell you it doesn't get easier…

4- Forgotten for 20 years that I was going to want to retire someday

       ("peahead" might be the word you're looking for?)

5- Let fear drive me to cowardice

       I have not liked the reflection in the mirror when I've succumbed.

6- Fractured my skull

       (I don't think this one needs explanation, really.)

And soon, you'll be reading about five people who mean a lot to me…

(I'll bet you can already guess at least two of them!)

Pleasing

We had an amazing visit the last time he was over -- really, the kind that leaves you not only smiling but feeling downright warm and fuzzy, right down to the cockles of your heart. It took me a while, however, to figure out what it was that had made everything that little bit more special. But I eventually got it...

It was the pleasing.

Subs always like to be pleasing, of course.

But most of the time, for us at least, what pleases him (outside of the eternally-mandatory blow job) is for me to give him unrestricted access to my body, to play with however he desires.

Now, do not misunderstand -- I'm totally down with that!

The Inner Slut adores that kind of use.

I find it incredibly erotic to be told exactly what to do to please him and to be lavishly praised for so doing. (Not to mention that it's incredibly fulfilling, as well.)

But the other night, what pleased him was to give me a short period of unrestricted access to play with his body…

   …and the Inner Sensualist had a Field Day. 

True, there's always plenty to revel in when being totally guided by him... the sensualist is never deprived -- but she's rarely off her leash, either. There's much to enjoy, but all of the pleasure takes place within a predetermined space.

So it's a marvelous thing to be given your head on occasion.

   To be told, "I want whatever you got!"

   To put a shit-eating grin on his face with your offering.

   To be allowed to affirm that you please, even when you're making it up as you go along.

It isn't the kind of interaction I want all the time -- I quickly miss the control. (And frankly, I don't think he can relinquish it for much more than a few minutes at a pop, anyhow!)

But, ooo, it can be really lovely, just every once in a while, to be allowed to please him by doing what I please…  :-D

Ten to One - Day Four

Day Four: Seven things that cross my mind a lot.

There are actually quite a lot of things that frequently cross my mind.

Really, this is just a random sampling! :-)

1- I really must get a new job...

2- I need more coffee…

3- oh dear, I can't tell if I've read this book before…

4- It's actually amazing that more of us aren't killed while driving...

5- Is it nap time yet…?

6- I should probably clean that…

7- Wow, does this recipe look good!!

I'll probably give you a break with a regular post before the Day Five…

But then you'll be finding out six things I wish I'd never done!

Ten to One - Day Three

Day Three: Eight ways to win my heart.

1- make me laugh 

     (this is not in the #1 slot by accident.)

2- be considerate, even to strangers

     (this warms my soul.)

3- THINK

     (or go home.)

4- be open-minded

     (which also goes along with 2 and 3...)

5- loan me a book you love

     (bonus points if the pages are well-thumbed.)

6- offer to help me with the odd house maintenance task

     (so much nicer to tackle with someone by your side.)

     

7- get my jokes 

     (not always easy, I know...)

8- enjoy language play 

     (and, oh, the places we will go!)

(OK, I hope you took notes!) ;-p

"Seven Things That Cross My Mind A Lot" coming up soon!

Another Realization is Knocked Loose

(I've decided to space out the meme a bit but don'choo worry, we'll get back to those eight ways to win my heart!)

I was talking with my friend Q the other day, discussing the whole "men want sex" aspect of relationships, during which I expressed my frustration at how touchy males get over anything that smacks of emotional attachment. I mean, I understand that sex is the primary reason they're with us but why do any accompanying signs of emotion trigger such mad thrashing?

At which point Q observed,

"It's not the emotion, it's that women seem to want you on a leash…"

As my mouth was opening in protest, he continued, 

"…they always want to know where you are, what you're up to, who you're with…"

And... my mouth snapped shut.

Because I had, just one short hour earlier, texted BG to see whether or not he'd left on a trip he'd been undecided about taking.

Now, in my defense, that was the first bit of any sort of communication between us in a week - so I won't say I worried I'd stepped into the arena of leash-tugging… but still, the comment gave me of those moments when your perspective is nudged slightly to the side and suddenly, that's a whole different picture in front of you.

I'd asked the question of BG because... I was curious. Sure, there was a bit of wanting to feel included in his life, but mostly, it was nothing more than just wondering if he was getting to do That Fun Thing He'd Had Planned. 

However, the timing of Q's words brought home how, with only a slight change in filter, my curiosity might not seem so innocent or benign. This difference in perspective is something that trips all of us up more than we'd like. We hear the words someone says to us … but we generally fill in the motivation for *why* they used those words. And nine times out of ten, that is the part where the misunderstanding lies. "What did you decide?" is heard as, "Why don't I know what you are doing?" and suddenly, perfectly innocent conversation has gone completely haywire.

And it's frighteningly easy to do.

How many times have you been taken aback by how your words were interpreted?

I run into it all the time. In fact, BG and I almost stalled our fresh start right in it's infancy over just that kind of thing. He had a severe knee-jerk reaction to a question simply because of the motivation he attached to it and the jig was nearly up. (He did add later that his brain recognized immediately that his association was unlikely, but his emotions were already triggered, so it still took him a couple of days of deep breathing before he could quell his initial response.)

And he and I understand each other pretty darned well…

I cannot imagine how people with less familiarity ever succeed at communicating.

Actually, it's a wonder any of us manage to sustain a relationship for more than 4 days…!

Ten to One - Day Two

Day Two: Nine things about me

I'm always interested in hearing these answers from other people, but I'm not convinced mine have the same effect. But, this is the question, so...

Here are my nine factoids:

1. Birds creep me out

     (except when they're soaring overhead.)

2. I have never worn a "bought" Halloween costume.

3. I suspect I was a Druid in some past life.

4. I want to learn how to carve wood.

5. My first kiss took place in a potato field.

6. My lifetime average for bones broken is about one every 3.5 years.

7. I avoid the color orange.

8. I name my cars.

9. I wanted to be an archaeologist when I grew up.

Next will be Day Three -- Eight Ways to Win My Heart

(you're gonna wanna take notes, I'm sure!) ;-p

Ten to One - Day One

Generally, I'm not that taken with memes. They often don't contain questions I find interesting and even when they do, they may well string so many questions together that you feel bludgeoned by extraneous detail long before you reach the end. This one found on "Our Journey", however, struck me as actually being fun, both to write and to read. (Or mostly, anyhow. I'm not too keen on Day Two… but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.) 

It's just lists but somehow, the structure of the meme makes it appealing to me. (On day one, you list ten things and you work your way down to one thing on day ten.)

Small, manageable, and I get topics for my next ten posts... Score!

So, without further ado... 

Day One: 

Ten things I'd like to say to ten different people right now (living or dead)

I decided to leave out the obvious ones that I've actually already voiced to people (like "I love you" to my friends, or "I'm glad you're back" to BG) and just stuck with Things Unsaid. 

1. @Mom:

     I still miss you.

2. @MLN Hanover:

     Another volume of The Black Sun's Daughter series SOON, please!

3. @Any good accountant/financial advisor:

     Do you do pro bono?

4. @SP:

     That piece that's mine alone...?

     I'm not giving it back.  ;-p

5. @Any Kardashian Family Member: 

      psssst...! We don't really care.

6. @Robin Williams:

     Please don't.

7. @Apple Marketing Team:

     Figure out one way you want to handle volume purchasing and stick with it. 

      Please and thank you. 

8. @Thomas Hardy:

     It's a meadow, for cripe's sake! Move on, already!

9. @Sister Wendy:

     I'm SO glad you agreed to leave your caravan for a while…
     I've loved it all.

10. @Grandpa:

     I learned more from your silence than you might ever have supposed.

     You were the best.

Stay tuned for the dread Day Two, when we will discuss (sorry!) -- nine things about me. 
(I'll try to be interesting...)

Pavlov's Slut

I have an electronic device that pretty much lives in my purse.

I read on it, get my email on it, do a little surfing… and, on this particular device, I can also text with BG -- who has long been assigned his own particular, distinct, ringing alert tone, so that I know it's him when my purse chimes.

Three years of this tone had honed my reflexes to a razor edge to the extent that, for months after our breakup, hearing that sound on someone else's device could still knee-jerk me into scrambling through my purse before rational thought could kick in. While time and reconciliation have helped to calm my sense of urgency somewhat, I still step pretty lively when I hear that particular peal.

I also have another device -- one that pretty much lives in my bedroom. It, too, is used to read, get email, surf the web... This device isn't tucked away anywhere, however. It's out in the open, very close to my pillow. You might think a thing like that would be distracting throughout the night, but I've never found it bothersome. Rather, once I fall asleep, the little electronic noises no longer register.

Or so I thought.

However, BG now has a new electronic device of his own, one that can reach me at other devices besides just the one in my purse -- and apparently, the settings for his messages are ubiquitous -- as are my knee-jerk responses.

Because the other night, I snapped awake well after midnight, wondering why I felt like I'd done a flip in bed, only to realize I was on my stomach, propped up on my elbows, and answering a late-nite text from BG that I had no conscious recollection of having heard arrive… or even of having read yet. (Tho' my response was coherent and appropriate!)

I had *no idea* I could be so well-trained by a bell…

(Nor frankly, am I convinced I want to let him know that I am!)  ;-)

Forgive and ...?

(Prompted by this week's TMI Tuesday. 

Hopefully, I'll be forgiven for hijacking the thought, even tho' I didn't play this week… :-D )

Do you believe in forgiveness and do you forgive and forget?

This was a timely question for me, what with my recent reconciliation and all the soul-searching that went along with that decision. Even after all that contemplation however, when I sat down to discuss the point, I realized the issue was even more complicated than I'd initially thought, because there are so many facets to forgiveness.

 FORGIVE:

   1. to grant pardon for or remission of (an offense, debt, etc.); 

       to absolve.

   2. to give up all claim on account of; remit (a debt, obligation, etc.).

   3. to grant pardon to (a person).

   4. to cease to feel resentment against:

   5. to cancel an indebtedness or liability

   6. to pardon an offense or an offender.

That's a pretty wide range of definitions there. No wonder I got a bit bogged down initially.

Forgiveness is not one single idea … it is a concept, an action, an emotion, and any combination of the above. It operates on both the internal and external levels.
Forgiveness is a complex thing -- and what it is NOT is a one-size-fits-all kind of word.

So, do I believe in forgiveness?

   Yes, I do.

But selfishly and pragmatically, I'm afraid, not from any sense of higher moral purpose. Because the truth is that you cannot move on in life if you are unable to forgive, in one definition or other. Forgiveness is actually a life-skill, one that I think might be easier to utilize if we bear in mind that it does not have to assume the same form every time you express it.

In general, I think that people most often practice forgiveness by simply pardoning the offense or the offender. We are, after all, human and lord knows, I am in no position to be throwing the first stone most of the time and I doubt most of you are either. So usually, we just calm down, think a bit, gain some perspective, unearth our compassion, then reach out to grant the pardon ... and put the matter behind us. 

But there are also those rare occasions when we find ourselves unable to pardon. To me, at least, some things are simply unforgivable and I just plain cannot find it in me to grant the other person the grace of "forgiveness given." But I can't live in the turmoil created by an unresolved offense, either. 

At those times, then, my forgiveness has to assume the internal form. Because for me to be able to move on when I cannot absolve, I need to burrow deep inside and let go of my resentment. 

I'll admit I find this particularly challenging because the sad fact is that, by nature, I can hold a grudge longer than most species walk the earth. But what purpose does that serve?

Nurturing my resentment does nothing more than inflame an already-festering wound. It's a negative use of my energy and all that negativity wreaks havoc on my soul. No, the fact that I can hold a grudge does not mean I should…

So, for my own good, I need to break the hold that resentment has on me. I don't need to absolve anyone else, I just need to get the poison out of my own system. (I told you, mine is not a very noble view of the value of forgiveness.)

Yes, I believe in forgiveness and I do all I can to practice it in my life.

But the predicate for me is not to "forget" - it's simply to "move on."

"Wha'cha Readin'?" Wednesday

I finally got together both time and energy enough to start "The Distant Hours"…

It all started with a letter… (from KateMorton.com)

Edie Burchill and her mother have never been close, but when a long lost letter arrives one Sunday afternoon with the return address of Milderhurst Castle, Kent, printed on its envelope, Edie begins to suspect that her mother’s emotional distance masks an old secret.

Evacuated from London as a thirteen year old girl, Edie’s mother is chosen by the mysterious Juniper Blythe, and taken to live at Milderhurst Castle with the Blythe family: Juniper, her twin sisters and their father, Raymond, author of the 1918 children’s classic The True History of the Mud Man. 

In the grand and glorious Milderhurst Castle, a new world opens up for Edie's mother. She discovers the joys of books and fantasy and writing, but also, ultimately, the dangers.

Fifty years later, as Edie chases the answers to her mother’s riddle, she, too, is drawn to Milderhurst Castle and the eccentric Sisters Blythe. Old ladies now, the three still live together, the twins nursing Juniper, whose abandonment by her fiancé in 1941 plunged her into madness.

Inside the decaying castle, Edie begins to unravel her mother's past. But there are other secrets hidden in the stones of Milderhurst Castle, and Edie is about to learn more than she expected.

The truth of what happened in the distant hours has been waiting a long time for someone to find it.

I read quite a few reviews of this book, all of wildly differing opinions. Some thought it was long-winded and in great need of editing; others said it was perfectly crafted and gloriously evocative; some were bored and unable to finish; other could not put the book down. So it was kind of a crap shoot, but I hadn't gotten my Daphne Du Maurier on in quite a while (and was feeling the lack) so I decided to give it a go despite the mixed messages.

I'm only about half way through the 562 pages at the moment but I have to say, I have not been disappointed yet. The writing is clean and atmospheric, with a nice sense of chill lingering at the back of your neck. 

But the real fun for me is that, as The Baker's Daughter describes, "The Distant Hours is very much a book for book-lovers. It is absolutely steeped in literature; filled with characters who write stories, read stories, decipher stories, and turn their lives into stories and vice versa." 

It's not a "romp", and I don't think it would make it's way into my beach books bag, but I am finding TDH to be an excellent thing to snuggle under the blanket on the couch with on a grey and drizzly fall day. (Especially if there's a steaming cup of chai next to you...)

I know it's been on the shelves for a while now. 

Anyone out there want to pitch in with an opinion?