Hi.
Holy fuckballs batmen.
It’s been a crazy few months and boy life has changed. I thought about just letting this domain expire and go away, so much has happened and changed and gone unblogged…but, I value my writing experience and personal explorations here. I’ve missed them and my few frequenters. I am finally getting somewhere near ’settling in’ to my new life, and working fewer than 18 hours a day, which I was doing for quite a while; so there’s a chance I will actually revive this blog.
So, updates.
I mentioned at the end of my last post the possibility of purchasing a local business. It did happen, quickly, and frankly, that’s where *almost* every ounce of energy I have has gone since August. I wish I could tell you all more about it because, well, it’s just fucking perfect and I have all manner of opportunities for kinky insights. But. It is a fairly well known and unique retail establishment that is a part of Austin’s local ‘keep it weird’ culture and I’ve already had a few experiences where I felt some reader of this blog had come in to feel out if the new owner was me. Okay, I will have to divulge this much because I have been waiting to say this…
Hey Bitchy, I get to dress men for a living! And they totally let me. I even have gotten to put a few in dresses. Hot.
So, there’s that. Super, super, unbelievably busy. I knew I would be, but more than I thought. With the economy diving deep for ugly waters immediately after reworking the store and having a decent ‘re-opening’ month, things have been a bit stressful, but the business is well positioned to make it through tough times in more than one way. But it’s keeping me busier than I ever imagined. I’m exhausted. Related to that, sparky, at the tattler’s wedding, also asked if I’d like a silent partner/capitol for the business. That has ended up to be a complex situation. Not long after becoming partners, we both decided the benefits part of our friendship was complicating it even more, so that stopped. Complicated does not, in this case, translate to bad, by the way. It’s been, all things considered, a good partnership and I appreciate the help he’s been. But, blogging about that, too, is just not a good idea; since sparky is an occasional reader and I wouldn’t want to complicate things any further.
Then, there’s C, my kiddo. She turned 18 recently. Taking SATs and writing entrance essays. We got tatoos together for her birthday. Not matching, but similar, and related to something special between us. It was an interesting experience, especially each of us knowing the other’s kink. She is a masochist and knows I am dominant. I asked her if it was a good pain and she said it was. For me, not so much, and she knew it, which she said made it extra special. She insisted on going first, she said she knew I’d do it no matter what she did about the pain but was afraid I’d try and be too brave for her if I went first, and show no pain. Too sweet. The tattoo was her idea originally, she asked only for it for her birthday. I knew she’d do it no matter what now that she was old enough, she’s told me over the last few years that she plans for several as well as some piercings. Then she told me she was getting her first one dedicated to me, and after some thought, I decided to join her. It sucked, painful in a way that I both did and did not expect. But I love it. It’s nothing small, not huge, hideable, in a spot that shouldn’t wrinkle or sag too badly, and unique; it represents both she and I. Same with hers. It is wonderful to share something so personal and lasting with her in these days when that is becoming more and more rare. She’s shooting through her senior year with lightning speed and I’m just not ready, in so many ways. And I AM ready, in so many ways. I am really looking forward to adult kink time in my own home. Really. Really.
I also turned 34 some time since my last post; rather uneventfully and without much fanfare, but that was fine. I was otherwise occupied as I got the keys to my new business on that day. What else. Not much kink to speak of.
Well, that is not true. I mean it is. I haven’t had my hands on a soul in months. But it’s not. For the entire last 5 months p. has been passionate, seeking me out, opening up, being consistent, and finally telling me he loved me -on his own, without prompting and without hesitation. Begging me for months to come and take him, giving me his address and making general plans and promises. And I did it. Flew across the country with a bag full of kink, several scenarios planned and a lot of hope in what we’ve each been unable to deny for nearly two years. Took a cab to his condo from my hotel once I knew he was home with plans to pick up where we left off last year in Dallas. Only, it didn’t work out that way at all. I left without even seeing him and not much more than some flimsy text messages. Of course there’s much more to it, and there was no concrete ending. And I’ll write about it eventually. I’d planned to tonight. But it was just a few weeks ago and thinking about standing there … well, just thing it about it still stings, worse than the tattoo, which came after. And of course, I knew there was that chance. But I had to take it. And now my need … NEED… to hurt him is nearly unspeakable and no matter what I do, it makes me look … and feel … yeah.
So on the one hand, things are good. Hard, and busy, but very good. I’m doing something I’ve always wanted to do and despite the economy making it a rough go, I’m really, REALLY enjoying it. On the other hand, things are bad. Heartbreaking and disillusioning and dark and hollow and very, very lonely. But none of that is new. At least it is a fun journey into places I never ever wanted to know my mind could go. Sure, I’ll blog about that soon too.
Well, leave it to me to end things on that note. It wasn’t my plan. But there’s your update. Thanks mo, and others, for checking in on me. I’ll be around more often. Perhaps with new maid interviews soon, because on top of the fact that my house has been neglected, someone has to get beaten, and soon.