incidental humiliation Apr 21, 2008 2:45 pm 475 Views This weekend Daddy Gooberhead and myself went to take his dogs for a walk. Let me say this, and please hear it loud and clear: I am NOT a "Nature Person". I was raised in fucking Manhattan. Noo-Yawk-Fuckin-City. I traveled extensively as a kid, in Europe and in North Africa even. I know how to pee standing up, and i know how to find my way around any city you care to drop me in. But please gods do not take me into fucking NATURE. Not even "sorta nature". It wants me dead. It also wants to crush my soul. I did not realize this until we were walking the dogs along this trail that then became less of a trail. Mind you, this is suburban California rolling hills with brush and shit. The average hiker would “ppfft” this. I nearly cried. Well, I DID eventually cry. I tried to pu the brave face on. I set a moderate boundary around wading into the taller-than-head-high spikey brush. I though I could handle the waist high grass. But there were thistles. Fuckloads of them. And the ground was all mooshly and crumbledy and, frankly, scary to me because I couldn't fucking SEE it. I kept thinking "Don't be such a fucking limpdick. It is fucking grass. Nothing will hurt you." Repeating this ad nauseum did not help. In retrospect, it was an anxiety thing, and there is nothing rational about that. But I was ashamed and embarrassed and that did not help. I kept thinking "This is stupid. Just walk through the grass and deal with the prickly. It isn't that big a deal and he is going to think you are being a whiner." The level of insanity in my head was amazing. All this on a pretty, breezy Saturday afternoon. By the time we got back to the bottom of the trail, I had little red marks on my palms from my fingernails digging in and when the Pappa asked me if I was ok, and said "See, it wasn't so bad, was it?" I started crying like a total schmuck. It WAS that bad it was, in fact, worse than I could even begin to tell him. *sigh* I was ashamed to be so pathetic as to be afraid and anxious and stuff. I though "Jesus, people would laugh at me. How can I be so lame?" Over lunch, I was trying to figure out why this was such a huge deal. And I know part of it was that I was again worried about seeming lame. I was just so afraid of being mocked or people being all "You dumbass. It is just grass and bushes and shit. What coudl you possibly be afraid of?" I dunno. But the Pappa was not laughing. He never laughed at me once, and just gave me a hug when I was upset and then I was not so upset. Now to work on forgiving him for making me watch “Knocked Up”. 6 Comments

*bounce*bounce*bounce*kathud*TUMBLINGWEEDED* Apr 21, 2008 2:12 pm Mood: anxious, 373 Views That would be the sound of the past few weeks! Learning the new job is an exercise in cutting myself some slack. On the one hand, HOLY SHIT that is so much to learn, and some is trial by fire. On the "How Much Does This Kick Ass!" front, my first two assignments are to cover the International Ms. Leather contest, (are any of y'all coming??) as well as be on the ground and providing reportage and coverage for the Masturbate-A-Thon. SO, maybe I am going to be OK. I am back in the "Fuck! Not gain!" mode of having to find a new roomie. It isn't necessarily a bad thing...another "TO DO" to have on the already overspilling plate...another adjustment to make. Having to live with someone is a big deal. Acknowledging that is a step in the direction of taking care of myself, something with which I have a notoriously difficult time. Um. Yeah! 0 Comments

pushy bottom? PUSH OFF! Apr 15, 2008 5:00 pm Mood: annoyed, 486 Views why the hell is it people feel free to smirkingly make reference to bottoms, slaves and submissives being "pushy" when we take care of business efficiently and refuse to stand down in the face of foolishness? Joking aside....there is no such thing as topping from the bottom. By the time I need to be telling you what to so, you are not my top. And if you ARE a top, and I am offering my expertise to you I am fucking being of fucking service. ....grrrrrRRRrrGgggggGggggrrrrr.... 2 Comments

thirteen Apr 14, 2008 1:53 pm Mood: okay, 476 Views months clean. 4 Comments

strange one Apr 14, 2008 1:43 pm 468 Views please don't read if you are feeling cranky about spelling and syntax and such, as this is s disaster I feel like I have to say something, but then again I feel like "Who has the time to read / listen / respond?" I barely do. I have to take a mind break because I have been revving over a bunch of work stuff all weekend and now that I have re-organized my tasks in my head, and I am less in flat-blank panic mode, I am now in "Holy fuck how the hell am I ever gonna do all of this?!?!" mode. I went, on Friday after the Queer Open Mic, for which I sub-host, to an accordion jam session. Where I got to watch cure people play hot instruments. I also saw some accordionista cliquishness, which was interesting. I spent early Saturday at a baby shower, and since I am always super apprehensive about social situations there days, I was glad that it was mellow enough to not have to worry about too much social-exposure. It was nice though, little kids wandering around and the usual parental swapping of knowing-nods and such about baby things. The afternoon was interesting; I managed to somewhat strand myself at Oakland's Jack London Square because my insane desire to ride the ferry and my presuming that ferry service was fairly common left me a bit stranded. I wound up taking the BART to Vallejo to go to John's house. I had hope to take the ferry because I though it would be kick-ass, as the weather was insanely fucking crazy ass beautiful for ferry riding. Alas, it was not to be. What was to be was OK too, since there was the change to lounge around, watch movies and fuck. And I can't complain about that. I got word of some scary news about my friend's little baby, and that was disconcerting. She stopped breathing, and thank the gods they had taken a CPR for babies class. I am glad the baby is OK. She spent some time in the hospital, but now is back at home. Sunday we went to meet some of Daddy Goberhead's friends at the beach.... don’t ask me which one. Whichever one is by Taraval’s terminus. Or origin, whichever. It was beautiful until the fog came in and pillaged the land. I was getting crazy numbers of calls and text messages, which was odd, since it tends to be that I hear from only a few people here and there. We wound up going with John's buddies to supper, and that was very nice. I started thinking of my own friends, and marveling at how the definition of "close friend" has shifted for me in the past couple of years. As of now, I would be hard pressed to define what I see to be the role of friends in my life. I just can't put my finger on this shift. I think it is the fact that so many people are becoming family-centric and that leaves you in a different place with your friends. If someone is married, it changes how you interact with them socially. Once they have kids...forget it. Irrevocable alterations. I realized I spend a lot of time censoring myself. Lots of that is fear. I am trying to do less censoring. I am often unsuccessful. Mostly because I have a fear of seeming. Seeming needy, seeming clingy, seeming bitchy.... The fog coming in and the intensity of being in so many weather zones (from Vallejo heat to coastal heat to coastal fog to inland chill) made the end of the day a crashy one. It was less than stellar to get back home, and wanting to just collapse and decompress to have my roommate grimly declaring the need for a sit down discussion "later" about "some issues". Because that shit wears on my mind I asked what, in general terms, the "sit down" was to be about, and it again is the cat litter issue. My being away for the weekend, I think that the cats had gorged on the food I left and someone had had terrible poopness in the back room. And in my haste, I left an untied bag of scooped poop in the back room, so it was smelly back there. It does not help that the back room is windowless, and relies on the spray timer I have in there spritzing to try to manage stinkiness. There is not anything by way of circulating air. I went right onto “See, once again I fucking suck." mode and started getting weepy and overwhelmed. It reminded me of the bad old days when, every time I came home, there was something else to worry about or deal with, something else that was pissing someone off, some other way I'd failed. I am tired of feeling bad, and about feeling bad about feeling bad. I hate HATE coming home to have to deal with “issues”. Look! Hey! New thing to fret about again from the past!!! Mr. Goberhead was, again, really really stunningly patient. And very sweet. And hauled the insane bag of trash downstairs for me. He is a very good Daddy. I must get back to figuring out my workflow for this week. And editing. And not freaking out. If you have read this far, I regret the disaster area through which you have slogged. I have no time to edit myself plus, I don’t have to. My goal for today is to let go of a little bit of fear. 5 Comments

"I'm sorry, Daddy" ain't sorry to be TUMBLEWEEDED! Apr 10, 2008 4:05 pm 507 Views This is a really stupid move on my part, as any experienced bottom / sub / slave type knows. Don't tip your hand. But no one eve accused me of being able to keep any of MY secrets for a second. Due to (insert a bunch of stuff here) I wound up on the phone last night for a while. While Daddy Gooberhead was, evidently, waiting. And here I thought he was working, you know, doing stuff on his computer. Until I looked over to see he was really watching something very very very naughty and gave me that "Yeah you caught me and I'm going to fuck you really really soon. Like now." look. And to that I cannot object, but I had to be present for this phone call. By the time I signed off of my talk for bed, I realized that yep. The Daddy had indeed been waiting. Although to be honest, the breathless fainty feeling I experienced when he leaned into my ear to whisper "You kept Daddy waiting for a long time for his pretty little girls pussy, didn't you?" and I did feel a teensy bit nervous and thought "Oh goodness...." but all I said was "Yes, I did...sorry, Daddy." and then I did not say very much that was coherent thereafter. There wasn't much stealthy about this fucking. Keeping Daddy waiting has its rewards. Like biting, for example 0 Comments

are you on bondage.com? Apr 9, 2008 3:35 pm Mood: confused, 665 Views If so please friend me! As the new site slave i would like to have a few of my crossover ALT buddies around, if you lurk on the purple side of things I am just Mollena over there. Love 7 Comments

why? Because Mohammad hates pubes. Apr 9, 2008 12:22 am Mood: crazy, 589 Views I am being facetious. But ,(upon whom I now have the teensiest moue of a virutal crush, but whatever.) when she replied to my post wow. why be a hair hater? inspired me to do a little rustling around the interwebs about the history of pubic hair. Whaddya know. Shaved pubes are mandated within Islamic Tradition!!!! Wikidepedia say, (and yes, I did cross check it with some Islamic sites as well).... The noun fitrah is commonly translated in English dictionaries as "creation," while its plural form (fitar) is translated as nature, innate character or instinct. It comes from the root of the verb fatara, which describes the action of creating (among other usages). Related words include fitrī (natural) and fitrīya (innate manner resulting from natural character). Background and usage The Quran describes the fitrah of the human soul by saying: and by the soul and He who perfected it! Then He inspired to it (the ability to understand) what is good for it and what is evil for it. Successful is he who purifies it, and failure is he who corrupts it. Muslims believe every child is born with fitrah, including those in non-Muslim communities, and that without external influence, these children would come to worship Allah on their own. As such, every child is born Muslim. The Islamic prophet Muhammad emphasized this in a hadith where he said: “Every child is born with the believing nature (al-fitra), it is his parents who make him into a Jew or a Christian.” Another well known hadith was narrated by Aishah who said: The Messenger of Allah said: “Ten (actions) are part of the fitrah: trimming the moustache, letting the beard grow, using the siwaak (tooth-stick), rinsing the nose with water, clipping the nails, washing the finger joints, plucking armpit hairs, shaving pubic hair and washing with water after relieving oneself.” Oh snap!!! I guess we know what AIN'T under that burqa! 2 Comments

wow. why be a hair hater? Apr 8, 2008 10:19 pm Mood: Dismayed, 638 Views I know I am supposed to be supportive of people's opinions. I have a few strong opinions myself. (You may have noted this.) But I saw a thread where more than one woman expressed the opinion that their pubic hair is "dirty" and that they shave because unshaved bush is "nasty". Is it just me or is there something kind of frowny about women hating yet another natural part of themselves? The hair is there for a reason, and something about the infantilization, denuding a secondary sexual characteristic and plain old exposing the vajayjay to extra bacteria seems .... un-cool 9 Comments

lungs, good. (!) Liver, good (!!), fat ass, not so much. Apr 8, 2008 10:00 pm Mood: hungry, 454 Views I really am amazed at how much of life seems so beyond my capacity to understand, and yet how much just comes to me without even trying. It is a bit disconcerting to note that I never seem to take the moment to appreciate what I HAVE accomplished and what I have been blessed with before I am moving on to the next "thing". Great news: the Kaiser Dr. can't find anything wrong with my lungs. And the only things about the blood work to be concerned with is my cholesterol, which is at the high end of OK. And my iron level, which could be better. Then again, I DID have the bloodwork done in the middle of the uterine gorefest. But read that again. NOTHING ELSE was wrong with the bloodwork. NO liver problems. Which she specifically had me screened for, given my history. Which is grim This is,to be frank, a fucking miracle. I spent too long completely intoxicated for at least half of the day and was routinely downing a half of a pint of Jack most mornings to stop the sickness and probably another beer on the way to work to get to "normal". Even before the nasty end, I was no slouch in terms of simply having an insanely high and yet erratic tolerance for my drug of choice. I don't know, but that coupled with entirely pathetic nutrition (well, except for my hilarious spate of obsessively taking liver strengthening herbal remedies....don't ask. It was part of MY insanity) should have left me in far, far worse health. Instead I am just fat. Well, technically severely clinically obese, and am about to drop dead from fatness. In spite of the fact that my blood pressure is better and I am moderately active. But I am not going to go there right now. **deep breath** I am excited and frustrated in turns about the new job, and today was one of those roller coasters of those things. I gotta remember that I have skills. Everything is not fixable, and everything is not my fault. And I CAN be coherent and intelligent Seriously. I can. I have proof. Anyway. By the time I got home realized I was so tired but that I really should tidy up a bit, since I have done nothing for weeks and weeks but come home to sleep, shower, deal with kitty issues, pet on the kitties, sleep, and change, really. So I was all texting Daddy Gooberhead, whinging "Meh, will you come and see me between your entire work day and therapy and then going home to feed and walk your dogs and then do all of the rest of the work you have to do tonight?" And he said "Yes" And he came to visit me for a little while. And you know what? It totally made me feel a lot happier. It is kinda funny, because yesterday we were both in crabby moods, and didn't see one another and it didn't feel as good as being in crabby moods and spending even an hour together. That felt so much nicer I hope this reads well, but it is so huge that he does stuff like that. I would totally understand if he just couldn't do it. But he did. He is a Good Daddy. I. Um. Yeah. I will be OK. I clearly have all manner of fortune and gods and angels and friends and miracles all over and around me. Because....well. Wow. This kid has not taken the high easy broad sunny road thus far. And it still seems crazy. Fuck. I got another e-mail from a hawt femme domme I met in Portland. She and this rad Butch top I had breakfast with are going to being town and want to hang out. *cough* I have gotten so much great responsive positivity! It is bloody amazing. I gotta get cracking on getting my ass to other groups and talk to people. It makes me feel so great that people are connecting with what I have to offer and to share 2 Comments

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