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Being "adult" and "mature" and "honest" sometimes....oooo! Not!!
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Feb 5, 2008 11:35 pm
565 Views
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I fully expect this post to be a tumbleweeder*
But let me just say that yeah, it is really great to have open, honest communication and to be mature, and to ask open questions and let go of expectations....or to try to. Mostly because expectations can place impossible situations into play. And then everyone winds up jumbled!
But, man! That old style denial, that covering up feeling and doing a "grin-and-bear-it" simply because you were too afraid of being alone was what I was used to.
I had one of those moments of Zen with my friend today....I'd asked him to attend an event with me, and he was somewhat hesitant, and I wondered why. Well, I asked why and I did not get a response. I thought to myself, "OK, well, IM is not the best way to deal with prickly situations anyway, just wait until you can talk or e-mail..."
Convoluted story truncated, basically I had to ask that "Hey, um, what page are we on here because it looks like this to me, and I want to see if that is an assessment with which you can get on board."
And, so, my conservative, responsible, logical and responsible take was, it seems, a good one.
I vetted my whole "processy" thing with two of my blunter girlfriends who I know would slap me directly if I was being a twat, and would verbally push him down like a little kid in a schoolyard if they thought he was being a dick.
Well, no one got slapped or pushed down.
Evidently, this is what people do: they talk about their feelings, and have reasonable reactions to what they hear, and let their emotions just happen.
Dammit!
I KNOW taking this slow and easy is supposed to be good, and I know that, if someone has the balls to say "Hey, here is a rundown of my shit, and I don't want to fuck you over, and I do want to get to know you." that is a good and honest and admirable thing.
Why goes "good, honest and admirable" leave me feeling like an uncertain 9 year old taking the bus alone for the first time?
.
.
.
*I have hereby dubbed posts where everyone reads and nothing but dust gathers, crickets chirp and lonely tumbleweeds meander through the pixels as "Tumbleweeders"[/SIZE]
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fuck the fucking bus!
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Feb 4, 2008 11:37 pm
494 Views
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Holy SHIT it took me an HOUR AND FIFTEEN MINUTES to go about 2 FUCKING MILES
on the god-damned BUS tonight!!!!
The bus was late and it was kinda chilly, but whatever.
Blend:
1 Tardy ass mysterosa disappearing, mute bus driver
An entire southeast Hmong village
1 tweeeaked out black methqueer
1 smelly SMELLY stinkie TB having drunk ass bum
17 Mexican dudes
1 fat black blond pissed off girl with a Box-O-BDSM-PR0N just trying...trying, lord sweet baby jesus in a high chair to get back home and have a nice dinner date with her friend
3 families, complete with vigorously squealsquirming toddlers
Mix 'em up and and a mysteriously SLOW AS MOLASSES IN MICHIGAN IN A BLIZZARD bus creaking up Mission Street...
and you have...what.
A hilarious series of text messages, that is what.
MUNI, YOU HAD BEST UNFUCK YOURSELF AND START SHITTING ME TIFFANY CUFFLINKS OR I WILL GOUGE OUT YOUR EYEBALLS AND SKULLFUCK YOU!!!
Apologies to Gunnery Sargent Hartman.
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NINETEEN . Oh my badness......
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Feb 4, 2008 8:19 am
544 Views
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My "purity score" (though ALT's list is, by most accounts, skewed AND lame) is now 19. It was 25, but I retook it and discovered that they have pepered it with some ALT related stuff, and also that I must have been in denial last I took it!
19. That is insane, as the average here is in the 60s-70s.
The question that made me a little verklempt is the one asking about having ever been a slave or collared or something like that.....for 6 months or more.
The gutkicker for me is that, in almost 11 years of being a Kink-identified person, I have not been formally collared.
Indeed, it is true I have worn a collar on a handful of occasions. But I had, from my very beginnings, a very stringent approach to and visceral reaction around collars. I may well have echoes of collective subconcious memory and charged spirit ancestral energy around that too. I can only imagine what my antecedents might say, gazing into the smoky future from this country's shameful past and Peculiar Institution. Probably shake their heads and think "The gal's plumb crazy is all."
But despite over 2 years of service training in a "Formal BDSM Leather Family", despite a service contract, despite a "Consideration" period with a "master" (I put that in quotes because no Decent Human, let alone one aspiring to "mastery", abandons his submisive without notice at a critical moment in her life and then flits off to beat and fuck another woman and ends the relationship without telling his submissive, leaving her to find out from another friend via IM that she has been released. But I digress) not a one relationship that went to collaring.
In the same way I have had the song I want to march down the aisle to* selected since I was 11, I have nurtured fantasies about The Collaring Ceremony that I have since seen as simple emotional fantasy fulfilment. It is OK, though, to have those fantasies and despite my somewhat cynical East Coastyness, I do still occasionally collar-shop in the online windows of the net and sing a litle "Someday my Dom Will Come" along with those Disney Princesses of my youth.
Bitches.
.
.
.
*Any man who cannot accept me as I am and understand that John Williams is THE MAN and that I HAVE to walk down the aisle to the grand strains of "The Imperial Theme" is a stinkie poopiehead and it is simply not meant to be.
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GIANTS!!
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Feb 3, 2008 8:43 pm
455 Views
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UNDEFEATED,
BITCHES!!!
NOTE: I am not a huge football fan...I just love the Super Bowl, and I love to gloat about NY teams.
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HOT SLIPPERY NASTY CUNTS!!!!
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Feb 3, 2008 8:30 pm
748 Views
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.....was it a slow day on the interwebs or what?! I had a sudden jump in the number of "profile views". (I think. I almost never even check my profile page, because I rarely get mail here and I get text messages if / when I do, so I don't worry about that) Or maybe it just seems like a huge jump. Or maybe ALT is randomly using my profile photo somewhere in their Byzantine marketing schemes. Again.
On the quotidian front: rehearsal today was strange, as we were not in our accustomed place with our accustomed props. Plus I realized that there is one monologue I have not really cracked open at all, and another really really short one I am having a really really tough time with.
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
(oh, and if you are bored and want to see me looking ...well...not great, at ALL, but whatever...at some ungodly fucking hour, you can google "gone crowded fire youtube" and see a video blurb on the show.)
It was beautiful, crisp clear day. I missed the rain and as the storm clouds stormed away to the south, the skies were blue and clear as the waters off of a smooth white sand Dominican beach.
Praise gods for the Actor's Equity union. Though I am not a member, one of our cast members is. Therefore, we get breaks and regulated rehearsal schedules mandated. Which is nice, because even the sweetest kindest directors become maniacal Simon Legrees cracking the whip of theatrical artistic oppression over your head when it comes to crunch time, and we HAVE to have a day off....therefore, tomorrow night I get to have dinner with my Friend 
I hate...HATE to "Meta", but....
OK, blogger types: do you get all weirded out when you post a post and no one responds but like over a hundred "Views" are logged?
I know my blog stats are strange: I have hundreds of "watchers" but I am CERTAIN that most of those are merely holdovers from back in the day when I was on the front page alla time and people just added me to their "watch lists" These days, I pretty much know all of the names that I see rolling by on the list of people who have read the blog. But I feel this strange self-consciousness when no one has anything at all in response to what I write. OBVIOUSLY the POINT of blogging is to interact with the public in some way: if you do not want feedback, you have a blog that does not accept it. If you do want feedback, you leave comments open. Therefore, those of us attention whores and kudo sluts will, perforce, not be thrilled to NOT have a response to their writings. I can honestly say that the second reason I like blogging here is the response ration I have with friends strangers and acquaintances who do read.
Blah blah.
Did I have a point...
Um.
Who knows!
....the blog title has, by the way, nothing at all to do with the contents.
It was just the first thing that popped into my head when I realized I CAN'T post without a title.
Sorry if you were expecting cunts, slippery-hot-n'-nasty or otherwise 
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wrung out
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Feb 2, 2008 7:57 pm
454 Views
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it is raining again, but I have to be grateful for the moments of sun we did have in the past couple of days...
Working a full-time job then rehearsal thereafter for four more hours AND rehearsing on the weekends is a drain of a type that I always underestimate.
Starting on Tuesday we'll be up to 5 hours a night, in preparation for our February 9th preview and the 11th opening night.
I am getting more bits and pieces of the lines down....our intrepid directrix is consistent in continually shifting the blocking (that is the choreography of movement with or against text within the play, for those of you sane / smart enough to not speak Theaterese) and it is supertough. For those who might be more theatrically oriented, I'll add the layer of the fact that almost none of the blocking is organic to the text...and since the text is all "found text and the piece is a collage of movement and bits and slices of whatnot, there is almost NO organic flow to help you through the moment-to-moment plotting of the beats within the arc of the show.
All of this basically means that it is superfucking hard work, yo.
I had a strange week at the new job...it it alright, mostly, but in the same way that intimacy with a person reveals their quirks, time in a job reveals its details.
On the plus side, I found out that one of the cooler folks in the office is, truly, a Home Girl: she and I grew up 3 blocks form one another.
How fucking strange is that?!?!
We spent an hour with going "oh oh! DO you remember Munchmaker?!?! Ooo, Jackson Hole Burgers!! Holy shit, you know her from Hunter?!?!?!' and dishing about The City.
It was great. I hope that maybe we can be friends because I think she is neato.
With all of the rehearsing this week, and various scheduling insanity I haven't been able to hang out much with The Friend, but he came to meet me Wednesday after work to drive me to rehearsal....I saw him for all of 55 minutes but I was happy to have the precious time. It made me smile. He mentioned that he does indeed my blog(s) so hi if you are reading this.  I kind if didn't know how to react to that, since I try to write what I write with consideration and respect, but without censoring my emotional truth. I know it has been kind of problematic, occasionally, but there it is.
Anyhoo, yeah!
I went to visit him after rehearsal yesterday. I was hoping to be able to see him tonight, so I called him after we wrapped this evening. He was very low-key, though. More than usual...I was feeling that tonights hoped-for date was not in the cards. This made me a bit sad, and I tried to be all positive and evolved about it.
But I felt more like foot-stompy-kidgirl.
Mostly because I feel happier spending time with him, also because things are hectic and time is crunched. But he ... well. Seemed to not want to leave his house, and didn't offer the opportunity for me to visit.
After I got off of the phone, I worked up the gumption to call him back and tell him how I felt.
(Please note, self, this is A Big Deal and you should be proud because you did, what for you is a Hard Thing! Yay you!!)
I have little idea how well that went over, but I can't worry about expressing myself. So long as I am honest and not spiteful or trying to manipulate, I understand it is A Good Thing to tell people how you feel, right? If it is the truth that I would like to spend time with him and he doesn't want to, I think it is OK for me to say "Well, this is what I would like, and here are my feelings, and I hope you understand them, and I am bummed!"
Or maybe I am just too needy...or insecure?
I DO felt better, on some level even just saying it. And the fact it is minimizes my impulse to spin it out into some huge fucking "thing" over which I would obsess is positive.
I have had entire relationships where I almost never really said what I really thought, because I was afraid they would think I was too _________ (fill in the blank) and therefore I kept myself squeezed down in order to not seem "Too much".
But I do not think that is such a great idea.
All of those relationships are extinct. SO, that obviously was NOT a Long Term Plan for Success!
Well, this gives me time to relax and do more line-work 
Or try to.
There seems to be only so much I can manage in one day.
*sigh*
This is the part of "getting to know someone" I find the hardest....waiting for the little heart-and-mind-shell to open enough to see if there is a pearl waiting inside, just for you.
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Britney. Bread crusts. WTF?!?!
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Jan 31, 2008 8:38 am
609 Views
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Britney Spears, y'all.
In the interest of full blogsclosure, I confess to following the tale of "Whoah" as it gleefully hops down the bunny trail.
A po-po entourage the "length of a football field" and yet again she is dragged in for "help". When this gal wandered, all muzzy and shaky into the Friendly Neighborhood Joe Healy Medical Detox here in the beautiful City by the Bay, the only escort I had were my rather brave friends who had rather little idea where I would wind up other than "someplace that could help me".
323 days later here I am. Dry as a bran muffin
in the Gobi, and doing alright.
But our girl BritBrit....not so much.
***
Also, in line with WTF and continuing the exchange  and I started a few posts back about shit we were told as kids that makes no fucking sense....what the hell was up with adults tellin' me that I should eat the crust from bread because it had "more vitamins" ?!
By the time I was 4 I'd started cooking and I realised that had to be a lie because the crust was THE SAME STUFF as the rest of the goddamned loaf!!
Which reminds me of the time I eviscerated a fresh loaf of Wonder Bread and ate the fluffy guts, leaving a polka-dotted plastic bag of a hollow crust for my Mom's eventual discovery....
good times....
I still do not like bread crusts.
And I still do not trust half of the things I was told as a child.
And I still have to put Winehouse ahead of Spears in the neck-and-neck race to go chill with Heath, Anna Nicole and the rest of the lived fast died young cluuuuuub....
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oh
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Jan 31, 2008 12:18 am
473 Views
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I spent fully a days work basically preparing to then sorting then organizing then executing then delegating and sending, via DHL...
wait for it.....
Balloons.
For some corporate thing for work.
OH my GOD I had to go zen state.
Thank Ganesha it was sunny today
I survived our first run through.
Never mind it was open to our company members, so your compatriots get to see you floundering around.
And never mind that our director's mentor was there.
And never mind that he is one of the most important directors in the bay area
And never mind that he was the first person in front of whom I irrecoverably went up on my audition monologue a few years back
and so even the mention of his name makes me slightly dizzy
but I doubt he remembers.
and, also, whatever.
I survived it.
The bleeding has started & that is good. I am exsanguinating, like or not.
ALSO, also good is that even though I manage to run myself in circles John seems really to not be phased by this. Also this seems to be a really good way to learn some patience, because even when I get to the point of saying "gAh!! This is making me crazy!!!!" then he does, if not EXACTLY the thing I WANT or think I want him to do, he says or does something that makes me calm back down.
Ugh...eee....which reminds. In IM today I said something to him like "Oh, but that is why I love you!" in reference to something he was doing that was all helpful and such but somewhat inconvenient for him, but he is good with his patients like that. Then I was all "holy fuck did I just like, officially make an admission of love or something?!?!" but then he was busy, and so then of course I was all "FUCK!! I totally blurted out some shit!!!' Then I was all "Jesus calm down."
I had, all day, this one track in my mind thinking about kissing him on the hip, and touching his forearm.
Fuck, I am weirded out even thinking about that and even embarrassed to write it.
That is probably like. I don't know. Something....?
But I survived that too.
Now I must to sleep....I have, in the next 2+ weeks, exactly one night off.
Dammit.
But it is good, right, to be doing the arty!
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I deliberately hurt myself
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Jan 30, 2008 11:50 pm
382 Views
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with a tiny
whip
I have on my key chain
one I purchased on Olvera Street in Los Angeles
three lifetimes, it seems, ago
but it was more like
maybe
1991
anyway I lost it
and found it again
now I have it on my keychain and
walking down the hall back to my desk
today, at work
I wondered if I would enjoy it
if I struck myself
without much more thought I twisted my wrist and
laid into my upper thigh
the rayon of my skirt doing
little
to stop the pain
which slipped into my body like
an old friend
but not
well when I do it myself
it is like
trying to tickle yourself you know
it never
quite
works.
But the warmth was
and the welt
was there a welt?
I actually came to my senses in the midst of sorting envelopes next to the nice lady
from HR
and I was about to lift the hem of my skirt
to see if there was a red welt
but then thought the better of it
and i did not
and I felt silly
but still it was
leading me to the thought of your hand that
not too long ago
though it seems like forever ago, as all time spent away from you feels
your hand which I find
inordinately
beautifully
fascinating
your hand came down on and slapped against me
and my hips twisted and i surprised me with
not really surprised mind you
and there is not much that is more
interesting than a sudden impact of a curved
palm against a very wet cunt
and I hopscotched in that remembrance
as it came unstuck in my head like a hook pulling the lip
of a fish
that reminded me of
the very first time
you were with me and we
well you know
and y o u said
well you said many things
but the one that sticks
in my mindheartcraweye the most
is that you said to me
girl
you said
you
have no
idea
I listened
what you are in for
which is true and for that I am
well.
I thought I was in for some
blistering pain or
maybe some freaky something
but now I realize.
well yes.
you do not know either, do you,
Daddy?
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