It's funny how my schedule has a tendency to go from dead boring to a veritable social freeway. I have a date tonight. An interesting fellow has asked me out for coffee and I accepted on a whim... historically I at least chat for a few minutes before I'll agree to such a thing. This guy seemed worth a shot though: his OKC profile was interesting, and the site's algorithm did gave us a pretty high match. I think there's something to be said for that mathimatical matching mumbo jumbo, every person I've met with a <90 match percent has become someone I want to spend significant time with.
Anyway, I digress... I was talking about my upcoming schedule. In addition to tonight's date, I have two more dates this week. Tomorrow is a 'co-date' with Jute and Lane and Friday Jute and I are going to spend some special time together. Beyond dates, I have a Full Moon event to attend, plus classes, meetings and a vet visit for my four legged friends too.
Even though it keeps me super busy sometimes, I really enjoy having an active dating life. I recommend it to everyone, even my monogamous friends. (After all you CAN date your partner no longer how long you've been together.) Going out and having fun keeps life from getting stale. Who wants to stay home and watch TV when you could go out and experience the world instead?
This blog is just me reflecting on the things that make my life mine - in particular my explorations in polyamory, pagan spirituality and kink. Comments and questions are welcomed. Names and details may be changed herein to protect the (not so) innocent. Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Dreaming of a Poly Library
I had the strangest dream this morning:
So what does a dream like that really mean anyway??
I was living in a library, and then Kit came to live with me. Ostentatiously she and I were 'equals' in living together. I was happy to have her join me.
Then Kit decided to rearrange the shelves and tables. She turned them so that they were more open and accessible, yet the aisles were narrower. I missed the wide cozy aisles, and how the corners had felt like little nooks. I showed my sister what she had done and quietly complained. Then Carter waved me over (because apparently he worked in my library).
"If you make me the postmaster I can make her put the shelves back," he said. I was grateful for his suggestion, even though it wouldn't work.
"I can't do that," I sighed.
"Why not?" he queried me. I was ashamed to admit the reason to him.
"Because that would undermine her."
"Well you know what your other option is," he scolded. "You could talk to her."
So what does a dream like that really mean anyway??
The Ghost of Raisin
My kitty Scooby is turning into an old man. It's a change that's been creeping up on me for a while now, but this evening I noticed it again. He hopped up onto the bed next to me, and for a fraction of a moment I mistook him for another, my long departed friend Raisin.
I loved Raisin dearly. He was born in my childhood basement, and my sister and I met him when he was only hours old. He loved us unconditionally, rowdy children though we were. He was technically my sister's pet but, when he was thirteen and she was still living at home, she realized that I could give him better care than he had with her. He had a severe upper respiratory illness at the time and she couldn't afford a vet visit (nor would my parents foot the bill for one.) So she asked me to care for him on her behalf. I was to become his hospice nurse. He had been frail since kittenhood and we expected him to falter soon.
Raisin instead lived another three years. He quickly claimed my blue velour armchair and was often found curled in a warm little ball there, sleeping soundly. Extremely soundly in fact, because we discovered that over the years he had become stone deaf. His surprise when I woke him for dinnertime was classically adorable until the end. It was the most exciting part of his day, and he ate with gusto every time.
When his end did come, it was tragic. He had been having small seizures, but they were thought to be manageable. He recovered each time within a few minutes. Then one evening after seizing he didn't feel like having dinner. Mildly worried I decided to let him sleep upstairs with me, so that I would hear should he have a problem in the night. Early in the morning I woke to find him weak and pale. He had urinated on himself. I knew he wasn't well off and I called my sister to meet me at the vet's office. After he had been examined our fears were confirmed. His heart had failed and he was slowly dying. We gave him the last kindness we could, and let the doctor take his pain away.
It's amazing what an imprint Raisin left on my heart. It's been four years since I've held him, but I still miss his gentle cuddles and unassuming ways. And every once in a while, like tonight, I expect to find him with me again. It's like his little ghost is still asleep in my blue chair, and I've just been waiting for him to wake up.
I loved Raisin dearly. He was born in my childhood basement, and my sister and I met him when he was only hours old. He loved us unconditionally, rowdy children though we were. He was technically my sister's pet but, when he was thirteen and she was still living at home, she realized that I could give him better care than he had with her. He had a severe upper respiratory illness at the time and she couldn't afford a vet visit (nor would my parents foot the bill for one.) So she asked me to care for him on her behalf. I was to become his hospice nurse. He had been frail since kittenhood and we expected him to falter soon.
Raisin instead lived another three years. He quickly claimed my blue velour armchair and was often found curled in a warm little ball there, sleeping soundly. Extremely soundly in fact, because we discovered that over the years he had become stone deaf. His surprise when I woke him for dinnertime was classically adorable until the end. It was the most exciting part of his day, and he ate with gusto every time.
When his end did come, it was tragic. He had been having small seizures, but they were thought to be manageable. He recovered each time within a few minutes. Then one evening after seizing he didn't feel like having dinner. Mildly worried I decided to let him sleep upstairs with me, so that I would hear should he have a problem in the night. Early in the morning I woke to find him weak and pale. He had urinated on himself. I knew he wasn't well off and I called my sister to meet me at the vet's office. After he had been examined our fears were confirmed. His heart had failed and he was slowly dying. We gave him the last kindness we could, and let the doctor take his pain away.
It's amazing what an imprint Raisin left on my heart. It's been four years since I've held him, but I still miss his gentle cuddles and unassuming ways. And every once in a while, like tonight, I expect to find him with me again. It's like his little ghost is still asleep in my blue chair, and I've just been waiting for him to wake up.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Because of You
Getting into grad school was probably more about proving I was 'good enough' than a genuine desire to spend a third of my lifetime as a student. Without that pain to drive me I would have settled into a much simpler career path.
Being a good mom was my number one goal in high school. I was determined to not repeat my mother's mistakes. I'm still driven by this, but the irony is that I'm not always sure what being a good mom is. I'm not like my own mother, but I'm not perfect 'either.' I'm often consumed with guilt that I'm not 'doing it right' no matter what I'm doing.
Having my safety on the line required me to become uncannily sensitive in reading other's moods and feelings. Conversely, it's made it much more difficult to express my own . I have to be conscious of trusting people. It's exhausting. It's infuriating. It makes relationships exponentially more tricky.
I have emotional triggers that can be set off anytime, anywhere. For example, I cry every time I hear Kelly Clarkson's song, 'Because of You.'
One time I tried to break myself of this habit. I played the song on repeat for a couple hours until I'd stopped crying. I was proud that it no longer affected me.
Today I heard it on the radio. Turns out that it still makes me cry.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Happy New Year
Well it's official. Welcome to 2012.
I had an uneventful evening - stayed home and read a book. A few minutes to midnight Jute asked if we should have a traditional midnight kiss. I nonchalantly agreed, and we came together for a short make out session. After the clocks clicked over we broke away again. He returned to playing Zelda (he received an NES system for the holidays) and I returned to my computer. I texted a *snuggle kiss* to Raven and was a little sad that I couldn't kiss him in person.
New Years Day. (sigh) Exactly one year ago today, Jute and I visited Star and Carter for dinner. We hardly knew each other at the time. Star and I had only been flirting for a couple months, and had only kissed once. We had met each other's husbands, but not socialized with them at all. The guys were just barely acquaintances. The plan for the evening was chatting and board games, but somehow instead we ended up having a crazy, beautiful, BDSM orgy.
I'd have to say Star was the one who initiated it. After a few drinks she suggested we play a new card game, and this time she suggested a 'strip' version. We exchanged glances, tittered, and then all agreed that could be fun. Shortly thereafter we were suitably nude enough that Star further suggested that Carter show off his rope skills, using me as a bunny. I was nervous, but agreed. As he first began to tie me I experienced a bit of faintness. When I admitted this sensation, he calmly lowered me into a kitchen chair, loosened the bonds and checked my pulses. His confidence and calm inspired an immediate wave of relief in me. I was safe with him. That moment was when my feelings for him began to turn.
Star and Jute meanwhile had started out watching the bondage session, but somewhere along the line she had shared with him that she was very curious as to what it felt like to suck an un-cut cock. She asked permission to experience his, and he was happy to oblige.
By the time Carter was ready to tie me to the table, Jute and Star were highly aroused. The three of them kissed, stroked and licked me all over, and Carter's probing fingers caused me to squirt for the first time in my life. Jute was facinated and wanted to learn how to do the same. Carter demonstrated on me for a bit, before I was untied and it was Star's turn to gush all over the hardwood.
Later we took the party to their kingsize bed, and spent a few hours alternately fucking and then making love. The energy between us was indescribable. We awoke the next morning in a happy tangle of limbs. We were amazed at having discovered this intimate connection with each other. We felt as if we had all aligned just perfectly.
We were ready for a perfect new year. And what a year it was... what a year.
I had an uneventful evening - stayed home and read a book. A few minutes to midnight Jute asked if we should have a traditional midnight kiss. I nonchalantly agreed, and we came together for a short make out session. After the clocks clicked over we broke away again. He returned to playing Zelda (he received an NES system for the holidays) and I returned to my computer. I texted a *snuggle kiss* to Raven and was a little sad that I couldn't kiss him in person.
New Years Day. (sigh) Exactly one year ago today, Jute and I visited Star and Carter for dinner. We hardly knew each other at the time. Star and I had only been flirting for a couple months, and had only kissed once. We had met each other's husbands, but not socialized with them at all. The guys were just barely acquaintances. The plan for the evening was chatting and board games, but somehow instead we ended up having a crazy, beautiful, BDSM orgy.
I'd have to say Star was the one who initiated it. After a few drinks she suggested we play a new card game, and this time she suggested a 'strip' version. We exchanged glances, tittered, and then all agreed that could be fun. Shortly thereafter we were suitably nude enough that Star further suggested that Carter show off his rope skills, using me as a bunny. I was nervous, but agreed. As he first began to tie me I experienced a bit of faintness. When I admitted this sensation, he calmly lowered me into a kitchen chair, loosened the bonds and checked my pulses. His confidence and calm inspired an immediate wave of relief in me. I was safe with him. That moment was when my feelings for him began to turn.
Star and Jute meanwhile had started out watching the bondage session, but somewhere along the line she had shared with him that she was very curious as to what it felt like to suck an un-cut cock. She asked permission to experience his, and he was happy to oblige.
By the time Carter was ready to tie me to the table, Jute and Star were highly aroused. The three of them kissed, stroked and licked me all over, and Carter's probing fingers caused me to squirt for the first time in my life. Jute was facinated and wanted to learn how to do the same. Carter demonstrated on me for a bit, before I was untied and it was Star's turn to gush all over the hardwood.
Later we took the party to their kingsize bed, and spent a few hours alternately fucking and then making love. The energy between us was indescribable. We awoke the next morning in a happy tangle of limbs. We were amazed at having discovered this intimate connection with each other. We felt as if we had all aligned just perfectly.
We were ready for a perfect new year. And what a year it was... what a year.
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