Fire and Ice

So, I'm thinkin', and I could be wrong here, mind you, but I'm thinkin'...

That it's not really a good sign when your Dom's eyes go to saucers and he says, "Ohhhhhhhh..."
Especially when this happens as he catches sight of the rump he just used his belt on ...

"Yeah, you got me."

"uhhh, yeah... yeah, I did."

I roll my eyes.
He grins.

Don't even say it, gg - I'm already sitting on them.
Ice packs.
Every single one I own.

They don't seem to be freezing the smile off my face, tho'...
:-)

The Inevitability of Genetics

I've mentioned before that my mother was a truly charming woman.
My brother got her personality  -- I got my Dad's.
(For which he apologized more than once, btw.) :-)

Now, it could be far worse. He was stubborn and hot-tempered but he was also a fair, loving, smart, generous, and honest man. He had this little problem, however, in that he just totally lacked the internal editor that most people have between brain and mouth. He said what he thought, with no consideration as to how it might land on other ears. Making his personal slogan, "I have struck again!"

So I was a bit dismayed to be informed by one of the besties recently that I remind her of "that woman in Bones. She says exactly what she thinks, won't back down, and is genuinely baffled when other people get annoyed by her."

Three others have since agreed with this comparison. (Altho' I did get one vote for having greater empathy...)
Oh, dear.
I am, apparently, my father's daughter.

But I can deal with annoying people. I'm pretty used to it, actually.
It's the other traits that concern me.

Because Dad was also insatiably curious, with a knack for thinking outside the norm. He dissected things just to see how they worked. He poked, prodded, tweaked, and investigated. He could make anything, he could fix anything. (Usually with bits and pieces culled from an entirely different piece of equipment - the main reason why nothing was ever thrown away in our home.) Fine qualities in and of themselves, of course.

When he got older, though, without Mom's restraining influence, the Buckminster Fuller moments became a bit overwhelming, 

"Dad, why are there 87 soda bottles with pieces of paper scotch-taped to them in a pile on the back porch?"
"I'm conducting some informal market research..."

"Dad, what's with all the sheet metal and bucket of rivets?"
"I'm going to build my own solar panels!"

"Dad, why is there a bathtub sitting in the back yard?"
"I'm going to sink it and make a carp pond!"

"Dad, shouldn't there be a shield over that engine?" 
"Don't be such a chicken! Hop on!"

To my dismay, there are already disturbing signs:

I have taken professors at their word when they hand around samples and say, "see how flexible the material is..." -- only to sheepishly return the shards of what was once a working device.

I once spent three full days with graph paper and a calculator until I figured out how to make a slipcover from a remnant only 5/8 the recommended amount of fabric. Amazing what a little determination can accomplish... (Just don't look under the cushions, 'k?)

Succumbing to an overwhelming desire to know if I could get both feet behind my head at the same time, I plunked down and Just Did It.
Which was great, except ... they stuck.
Fortunately, I toppled over and unwound before desiccation set in.
But it was a close call...

And I'm not even old yet!
Imagine what another 25 to 30 years are going to do to me!

I have a friend who worries that she will become known as an Eccentric Cat Lady in her golden years.
Me? I fully anticipate someone staking a sign in my yard that reads, "BEWARE OF ENGINEER'S DAUGHTER!!"

Genetics. You can't run, you can't hide. You can only laugh...

So, "Happy Father's Day!" to all the Dads out there.
The rest of you, please join me in fond remembrances.
(Just, you know, keep your feet on the ground and watch out for the soda bottles, OK?)

Addenda - with Visuals

Expanding on the dead horse / piñata experience...

THIS is how I want to think I look as I await my suspension fuck.
Happy, blissful, playful. 
Graceful.
(The nubile part's good, too ...)

And THESE are the piñata panties I feel I should wear for the event.
(Altho' multi-colored would be better...)

Because, if a thing is worth doing, it's worth doing well!

(As you can see, I will not allow trifling details like reality to get in the way of a good fantasy!)

Acceptance

I read a comment the other day by someone who found it frustrating that so many people have trouble seeing the good in themselves.

I totally understand the point that person was making. There are too many who seem unable to view themselves with kindness and that can be painful to witness.

But the comment also brought to mind something SP said to me the other day, something I really appreciated:
"Your insecurity is a part of who you are, a trait that you do not need to be ashamed of. Start saying instead, I am insecure, love me for it!"

That was a really good thing to hear.

Like a lot of women, I've always been insecure about my looks.
On the other hand, that's pretty much the only thing I'm actually insecure about. I am confident (almost to the point of arrogance) about my mind; my personality is more lively than the average bear's; and I even know that men (not all but a sufficient number) find me attractive, even if I'm not a beauty queen.

So I don't worry overmuch about the insecurity, because it's only one small piece of the picture. Would I like to be rid of it? Yes, because it does occasionally hamper me. But I'm not crippled by it, I don't obsess over it. It's just something that makes me susceptible to doubt at times. (Particularly on bad hair days.)

Yet insecurity is often portrayed as a debilitating flaw, one that really should be rooted out if a person is ever to achieve happiness and self-satisfaction.
People vent their frustration at women falling victim to it.
Well-meaning friends assure you that, "Men Like Women Who Like Themselves." (implication: Abandon Hope, All Ye Who Already Live Here...)

Now, I think it's true that you do need to have your act together before you can successfully enter into a relationship. Particularly one that is going to be as demanding of you as a D/s one can be.
So, I'll admit to having picked up the odd self-help tome -- only to toss it aside with a shudder of discomfort. I have no doubt that all these "experts" mean well and can even be of use to many people whose doubts are more extensive than mine. But something just didn't sit right with me and it took SP's words to finally help me pinpoint what that was.

My issue is that the advice offered in these works seems to operate from the stance that having an insecurity makes you someone who is defined by a weakness -- a viewpoint I reject. Rather vehemently, in fact.

Because I DO like myself, even with flaws. I may not care much for my looks but that hardly turns my entire self-perception into a negative one. I am not a failure for having an insecurity and am aggravated by the implication that I am. I resent any attempt to make me feel damaged or incomplete just because I have an area (or two) of lesser strength. Show me anyone who doesn't, for goodness' sake! (Doms not expected to reply...)

I have accepted, incorporated, and made peace with this insecurity. I do not need to continue fighting it. I do not need to be ashamed. I still may not want to go head to head with another woman in terms of looks and body parts. (In fact, I'd probably just cede the contest graciously and retire to the buffet table.) But if you're talking personality? character? adventurous spirit? sheer fun? Send me in, coach! I can offer all that and more.

We are each many things. Love us for them all.

Need

It tears through you like wildfire,
ravenous and untamed,
or brushes your skin like cobwebs,
setting nerves on edge.

You ache from it,
yearn for exquisite sensation,
the scourge of heat to calm you
and soothe the unrelenting itch.

You want him.
Hands hard and cruel and soothing.
Cock firm and deep and thrusting.
Breath harsh and ragged in your ear.

You crave use.
Merciless, rough, taunting, unending use.
Use that burns and torments and delights,
that leaves you whimpering mindlessly
like nothing you ever dreamed of before.

You want to roar to the heavens,
to quiver, moan, and scream ...
to feel nothing but your body,
to be nothing but your body.

You just ... need.

The Power of Parameters

Once again, posts I've read have bounced around inside my head, richocheting off each other until they fused into a totally random (and largely pointless) thought.
It's a theory about switching. (Sort of. I think.)
More accurately, a theory about switching as it might apply to me. (Kind of. I think.)

Starting point-
I believe, as Sir J noted the other day, that you are something or you're not. On the other hand, I'm also a firm believer that you should never say never - about anything.
Generally, because that's a pretty sure way of ensuring that that very thing will happen almost immediately. ;-) But also because I believe that different parameters can effect your reality. Not so much in that they would alter an existing fact but rather, that the change in factors could create a second reality entirely.

First bounce-
As an example, I, like gg, now say that I am submissive. For years, I was caught up in an image of what I thought I was and wanted, yet I was vaguely restless, dissatisfied. I longed for a man who could "handle me" but didn't really know what I meant by that. Finally, the lightbulb moment occurred. It took a while to shift my mental parameters but once I did, I accepted what I am. And that's when things fell into place. Knowing what I wanted, I was then able to find it. Now I have a man who can (and does) handle me and I see just how beautifully it suits me. I adore being BG's slut. It still surprises me how totally fulfilling I find it to give all that control over to him. "Submissive" is my newly-discovered reality.

But ... (this particular bounce courtesy of bad, bad girl)-
I also think if I were wired to desire women as well, I'd be drawn to dominating them. This is, of course, pure speculation, as I don't seem to have that particular trigger. But reading her accounts of their attempted triad and where that has led her got me thinking. I already knew from experience that I don't want to be the one in charge. And I know that I have no interest in having a female dominant. But in extending that consideration, I realized that it's possible that in a different reality, I could be potentially be one. (And yes, that made me blink rapidly a few times.)

Now, in truth, I'm not even sure if you could call that "switching," as the reality seems dependent on gender, a distinction that is absolute. To me, it actually seems more like apples and oranges. Which is why this may not really be a theory about switching but just a random observation about a possible me.

But it does point to the power of parameters.
Yes, much of our nature is immutable. But sometimes, if you change one or two aspects of an environment, you may well experience an evolution that you didn't expect.
Life is, after all, full of curve balls.

Sic Transit Gloria Fashion

Recently, both gg and I received offers to help beta test a site for discussion, tips and questions about fashion. The woman who contacted us loves the "design and content" of our blogs, mentioning them by name to each of us, and thinks our input on their new site would be super!
(Perhaps this happened to some of you out there, as well?)

It was a tremendous compliment, naturally, which was duly appreciated. Wonderful though it is to be recognized for our sense of style, however, we were a little unsure as to how she discovered who we were and how to contact us.
Finally, it occurred to us --
she must have spotted us at the recent Paris Fashion Week.

We just can't figure out how she learned our names ...

How about the rest of you?
Do you think she found YOU through Fashion Week as well?
Have you any pictures to share of yourself mingling with the beautiful people?
Strutting the catwalk?
Nibbing canapes with the rich and famous?

Please do not take it to heart if you have not heard from this woman. Gg and I have worked long and hard to achieve the precise level of minimalism and insouciance that our blogs exhibit in their design. It may seem that no thought whatsoever has gone into our presentation but really, precise and complicated mathematical formulae form the basis for such deliberate nonchalance. -- Do not try this at home!