Yay! I have a present on the way!
It’s ridiculous that this means so much to me but it does, and whatever.
Last night I talked with p. for the first time since C.’s bad news changed all my plans, again. Since part of my plan to head northeast included being in his city for an extended amount of time so we could pursue things on a more normal basis, and now I won’t be doing that for a while, it was bad news for him too.
Frankly I expected him to disappear for a while as he is wont to do at such times. But instead we had one of the best conversations ever; he’s learning that he can be my friend as well as my bitch, finally. And to make me smile (and show me he took my threat to take on one of the other two cucks I am talking to now instead of him seriously) he sent me a Realdoe, which I’ve been asking for since Christmas. I’ve decided I don’t looove how I look in my harness, nor do I enjoy the ten minute mood-killer break I have to take to get into it. I’ve been waiting to buy a Feeldoe until they came in a realistic color- just my preference; but I’ve already decided if I like it, I’m getting the black ’stout’ as well. So, for once, p. did good.
It should be no big thing to send me gifts. But my recalcitrant slut is soooo nervous about his conservative image that he didn’t pick up a package from me last year fearing it held evidence of his kinky desires; but all it held was an antique medical book as a gift for finishing his residency. So it was a big step… I never thought I’d be in a place where a dildo represented a large step in my most important relationship…but here we are.
I’ll be visiting him soon, so a toy review will be forthcoming, too. I can’t wait to use it on him.
Toy advice sought…
Ok, floggers.
To begin…WTF is up with the GINORMOUS handles? I know how they’re made and so I understand the bulk, but… can’t something be done? No, I do not want one of those wooden handled operations with several metal loops used to create a swivel. I have visions of my hair getting caught in that as I swing… just…no. I am also short, and these things (the metal parts on most of these pre-made swivel floggers) tend to end up closer to skin with me than they would with other people. Being so short- just over five feet- my hands are also tiny. High schoolers make fun of them kind of tiny. So, these gigantic flogger handles which are often a foot long and two inches or more in diameter…. they hurt me and fly out of my hand at the wrong time and make my carpal tunnel act up. I can’t grip them well enough to use with any real intent. And the handle shaft proportions … well basically all the proportions are all wrong for me.
So there must be someone out there who knows of a custom flogger maker who considers the needs of small but powerful women. And whose floggers cost under $500. I am willing to pay….a reasonable amount.
Second… what to do about a suede flogger that imparts some of it’s dye onto my victim, or whatever else it comes into contact with, with each lash? I spent too much on it to toss. It wasn’t returnable. I’m tired of black marks on my sheets after using it. I’ve tried beating them out by taking it outside and working it over some hard surfaces for about half an hour. No luck, not really even a reduction. Wetting it top wash out the dye will stiffen the suede, and I don’t know much about working with leather. Any suggestions?
Clean up in Process
I have about twenty or so regular readers, even after over a year of not posting. Man, that’s a dedicated reader.
A quick peruse of the last few posts will tell you, things are going poorly for me on many personal levels, there isn’t much kink here, I’ve been whining a lot, and well…I’d like to change that.
As a result I think it’s time for many of the old emotional pouring out posts to go away. Wiping the virtual slate clean, to match my actual state. I will leave the last 2 weeks posts for about a week or so just so everyone can get caught up, before they go away too.
Kinky posts will stay, and if you had a favorite that disappears, let me know and I’ll find a way to make it available to you.
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Added ten minutes later:
I’m not so sure now. I’ve re-read about half my posts, and despite the heavy inclusion of mundane personal life stuff, most of them do speak to my thoughts and experiences as a growing dominant. And I don’t have any desire to hide who I am or have been. I may need to think about a clean up campaign a bit more before I undertake it. Your thoughts?
Imagine this title as almost hysterical laughter with a hint of starting to go nutty.
Sooo. Ha.
C., my college bound kid, the one I was preparing to drive to dorms tomorrow morning, got a last minute denial to her application to her college of choice. She’d already been denied once due to very poor grades her senior high school year, and was given the opportunity for guarantied admission if she enrolled at a community college for a specified number of hours and maintained a certain GPA. Apparentlty, her GPA was not nearly what she expected it was, and she did not bother to check on what it actually was before submitting her final requirements for the delayed entry application. And due to finances, we were on the very latest end of dates for getting that paperwork in- which is how we end up here, with the car already packed, the arrangements all already made, without a final decision.
Yep.
All that hard work trying to figure out what to do for *myself* … out the door, and who knows when I will be able to focus on making them anew. Of course, I am disappointed. Actually far beyond disappointed. And angry. But… expressing those things to her does no good now. And it’s a practiced skill I’ve learned to push my own pressing and urgent needs down to meet hers so doing so now is just instinct. I am sure that once sorted out, this will work out for the best and I can go back to focusing on myself. But right now it is pretty hard not to feel pretty shat upon by the whole universe, my daughter included. Especially since the best thing for me to do for her is simply be as supportive as possible and not voice my disappointment or point out the already obvious ways this affects my own plans (also already very difficult to have reached and arranged); while I have made a solemn promise to myself to not DO THAT to myself any longer. Of course I want what is best for her, and of course I don’t resent being her mother, and of course I didn’t expect that to end just because she was moving to college…it’s just…this has been a plan in the making since June of last year. The specifics anyway. And it’s hard to have to give up what I had made for myself in order to make up for having to give up everything in the first place, all over again.
Guh.
I need to hit someone really fucking hard. Really. Fucking. Hard.
So, what does this all mean?
This is the big college move-in week, which is why I haven’t made daily posts and might not over the next week or so. Holding tightly to my few days of at-home-parenthood left.
But I wanted to take a moment to acknowledge that the last few posts are primarily for myself; very emotional streams of thought. I don’t want anyone alarmed. I haven’t dropped my basket. I’m just processing, a lot. It helps me to write…but I won’t do it if it just sits unseen.
Fortunately my outlook is more positive than negative. This is a time brimming with opportunity. While that is also what is so terrifying, I know I can take advantage of them even while terrified. And I am determined to take advantage of the opportunities that make life most pleasurable.
I am very much looking forward to my travel from Texas to … somewhere in the northeast (yes, I do know where, just don’t want you all to). I plan to stop in New Orleans, Atlanta, and Memphis, each, for a few days…visit old spirits, listen to good music, and eat…so much of everything. My finances are tenuous but far better than they have been for some time. The kiddo is taken care of, funds wise. There are many things left on the list but the bare essentials which looked like they might not be met, have been.
And I am just preparing myself. Rewriting the day to day things that make up my world, and entering an amorphous time. Training myself to think of … myself, outside of the hour or two I might devote to dominating some man from time to time. Reducing my obstacles and unnecessary obligations one by one. And I am making a deliberate choice to change my self identity. It has been, for nearly twenty years, that of a struggling single mother. True as it might have been, it isn’t who I ever wanted to be. So I am now changing that, and it requires some pretty tormenting internal conversations. Which may spill over onto my blog for a little while. Don’t let it worry you.