I’m going to pick up Master at the airport tomorrow cuz he’s visiting!

That calls for an Oh-Em-Gee!  (In related news, if I don’t wet myself from all the wiggling and twitching I’ve been doing the past couple days, it’ll be a goddamn miracle.)

I’ve spent the day baking and packing and generally being flustered. Oh, and smushing my face into a shirt of his.  You see, Master smells like awesome.  And while I have a ridiculously acute sense of smell in general, I take it to a whole new level with him.  I love, love, love his scent.  And I can smell him on anything he touches.  No one else can smell him on things, and I can’t smell anyone else on things.  But if he holds Tupperware, I can smell him on it.  His cell phone is saturated in him-ness.  And sometimes, while we’re apart, I beg him to wear shirts and then send them to me.  Mmmmmmm.  He smells SO effing good.  And it’s not a cologne or anything, it’s HIM. And… Wow, that was tangential.

ANYWAY.  Point is, I’m off for a bit.  I’ve got to return him to the airport Tuesday evening, the 31st.  And I HATE April Fool’s day with a passion, so I will probably be hiding in a closet all day Wednesday.  But I’ll see you guys in about a week.  Talk amongst yourselves.

SO.  I was supposed to post today.  Three times a week (usually Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday) = my minimum requirements.

Instead of writing a post, I sat on the phone and my webcam talking to Antonio (who will be visiting for a few days on Friday.  Omg!  Hell to the yes!)

This consisted mainly of me giggling and being a tool, and holding up things I bought today and saying, “Look!  Look!  They’re little bakery boxes with clear tops that hold four muffins!” and Antonio saying, “What’s wrong with Tupperware?  Just put them in Tupperware.  Why the hell did you buy little boxes?” followed closely by me making faces and acting dejected, and then petting my little bakery boxes and assuring them that mommy loves them.

Thrilling, right?

Well, it was for me.  *beams*  And round about when I had decided it was probably pushing 9:30pm, and I should maybe get going so I could reply to comments I’ve got backed up and get a post up, Antonio informed me it was quarter to eleven and he was headed to bed soon since he’d been up since 5:00am. 

Oops. 

It’s HIS fault I have no real post!  HE makes time evaporate!  Him him him.  BLAME HIM!

(And for the record, if there is no computer-time while he’s here, so I magically disappear for about a week? Also his fault.  I’ll post Thursday though, fer shure, before I disappear.)

(If you aren’t a goon, you might want to look up that post title. You also might want to look up what a goon is.  *grins*)

Since today is not a bad day, I thought I’d muse about the days that are.  All the musing, none of the emotion!

Some days, I’m just terrified.  I’m negative and scared and sure that I deserve nothing but abandonment and pain.  I don’t like myself, and nothing I do seems right.  I feel like I’ve lost control over my life, my body, my mind.  In a really, really, really bad way.

I’ve come back from these days.  Or, at least, I’ve survived them.

No surprise, it’s The Man who drags me back from The Edge of Emo.

But the question I’m stuck asking myself is WHY do I go back there?  WHY can’t I just stay put in Happytown.  WHY do I have to sink into self-sabotage and mess up my progress over and over again?

Sometimes I feel like an epileptic trying to build a house of cards.  I build and build and build, and my creation becomes complex and beautiful.  Then I have a seizure and afterwards, I rise into awareness with a pile of cards scattered everywhere.  And I’m just a mess.  Angry, confused, frustrated.

Sure, over time, I gain skill at building myself (er, the cards – gotta stick with the metaphor) up.  I can do it with more efficiency, in less time.  But… I always fear – and always have – another seizure.  I just…  I don’t know what to DO about it.

The questions that fly through my mind are:

Why do I do this?

How do I break the cycle?

Does the whole thing mean something I don’t understand?

Does it just take practice, time, or experience I haven’t yet attained and slooooowly bur surely I’ll get better?

Or am I waiting on some epiphany that will serve as an insta-cure? (Or, perhaps, more realistically, and epiphany that will let me make a huge leap forward?)

Additionally,  OMG AM I OVERTHINKING THINGS?!?!

And, luckily for all of you guys, I can’t even begin to muse on the answers. (Except that last one. That’s probably a resounding “Yes.”)

I guess I just baffle myself.

You know, it’s awesome when Antonio is dominant over me (aka, always), but it’s assumed.  It’s structured.  It’s openly discussed and agreed upon.

Something I find incredibly alluring is something I can never experience myself.  It is his dominance in other areas of life and over other people with whom he does NOT have any sort of arrangement, dynamic, etc. It is not forced or oppressive or anything. It’s just a manifestation of primal human dynamics.  Antonio is, simply put, an Alpha.

He has natural dominance, and I love it about him. I love how people respond to him. I love how guys at his work will jokingly call him “boss” even if he’s not technically in charge. I love that he has a “don’t fuck with me” look, and I love that it works. I love that he’s calm and mellow and easy to get along with, but if his buttons are pushed he Takes Care of Business. I love that he champions the underdog, even though (or perhaps because) he’s never been one. He’s brave without being foolhardy, he’s confident without being (too) arrogant, he’s a lay-down-the-law type without asserting that he knows everything there is to know.

The man positively oozes “I’m the Boss. And a damn good one.”

He understands, intrinsically, what it takes to lead. Antonio is a born leader… But he’s definitely learned a few tricks along the way as well. Due, in great part, to that fact that he served – very proudly I might add – as a US Marine.

He’s seen and felt the results of different types of leadership and control. Everyone in the Marines serves their country, that’s sorta the point. But depending on the type of command soldiers are under, there are widely differing levels of devotion and service.

I won’t go into explaining it, because I didn’t experience it. One day, maybe Antonio will explain it in here. (Fingers crossed!) But, basically, his experiences in the Marines built upon and confirmed strong beliefs in how control is best handled and executed, and what types of control yield the best results in the short and long term. He’s been the boss of many, and been bossed around by many in a situation where walking away meant a court-martial.

I’m not saying being a Marine is the same as being in a D/s relationship.  I’m not a total moron, I promise.  But perhaps it is true that “good leaders must first become good servants.”  It’s certainly true that Antonio has an immeasurably deep understanding of dominance, control, controlled passion, foresight, planning, strategy, grace in overcoming obstacles, the ability to admit mistakes without attributing personal faults, and how to inspire someone to want to lay down their life for a cause.   He’s certainly got me hooked.

While Antonio knows he is capable of forcing people to follow, he’s smart enough to know that inspiring others to follow is a far more important and potent skill. And the more I read about the behavior of religious fanatics, the more I believe faith, inspiration, and a desire to serve a higher power FAR outstrips any other method of enforcing obedience.  ZOMG, Liek Woah. (Okay, I was kinda poking fun there, but seriously.  Have you SEEN what those people will do?  No method of torture, bribery, or threat I’ve ever heard of has inspired people to go to such extremes.  EVER.  Unbridled faith is, in my opinion, one of THE most driving forces on this planet.)

Antonio’s ability to inspire service through that kind of reverence and faith is, I think, stunning. He exercises his control very, very well.  The evidence is in how I respond to him, and how my feelings have changed over time.

When I went into this, I feared physical punishment. Now, I fear his silence, I fear his disappointment. I don’t just hate them, I deeply fear them.

When I went into this, I used to imagine (and toyed with) misbehaving to earn a reaction or a punishment, on purpose. Now, I do not try to earn punishment, because manipulating his system for my benefit would feel disgusting. (That’s not to say I don’t try to hide my feelings sometimes, or do things he doesn’t want. I’m human, I’m in a position of extreme vulnerability, and I’m simply not perfect at being here. But there is no coy or selfish motivation behind my misbehavior.)

When I went into this, I was capable of making myself happy. Now, my happiness draws straight from his pleasure in my efforts, and it is a level of happiness I can not reach on my own.

Now… That last one gives me pause… But it’s probably a whole different post. Where the hell did I start this post? Oh, that’s right, his natural dominance.

I had started this just wanting to say I think it’s gorgeous the way he interacts with the world – as a naturally dominant human, without a single oppressive bone in his body. He doesn’t seize power, he is simply so capable of shouldering it, and shouldering it well,  that power is often brought to him.  I LOVE that about him.  LOVE.  Rawr.

(Omg, I had to cut this off because I basically started  a second post. When I get going, I really get going…)

Lastly…. HUGE thank yous to vanimp, Coyote’s Kitten, kaya, Amber, and doubleknot.  I miss my little girl a LOT.  And I’m getting all teary again now.  I’ve always had a very hard time with losing animals.  I’ve seen so many people handle the deaths of pets with a lot more grace than I have ever been able to muster.  You guys really made me smile, and feel a little warmer.  Thank you so much.

(I just had to reformat my computer, btw.  And  I cannot make my feed reader work anymore.  It should come as no surprise I’m in a COMPLETE state about that.  I’m attempting to not creepily click on everyone’s blogs 40 bajillion times a day to see if they’ve been updated, but no promises, guys…  And now, it’s off to work.  I’m in a RUSH so forgive typos, please?  Blame them on… Er, something.  Your eyesight.  Yes, that’s it.  Typos are the fault of YOUR eyesight! *nods sagely*)

I don’t feel much like posting tonight.  I hope Antonio understands.  I will post tomorrow, even though I’m not required to, with an actual D/s topic.  I swear. 

But, for now…

I took one of my pet rats to the vet yesterday.  She couldn’t move properly… She was dragging her limbs and just looked pitiful.  She’d been extra-sleepy the day before, and perfectly fine the day before that.  This morning I called to check on her at the animal hospital and they informed me she had passed away overnight. 

I’m just so stupidly upset about it, and every time I try to talk about it, I start crying.

She was a year-old curly-haired dumbo rat, and her name was Touille.  (Yanno, like ratatouille?  I’m very, very clever.)

The vet said it was either a stroke or some kind of rapid neurological degeneration, and assured me it was nothing I did or didn’t do.  Touille’s sister, Twitch, is really lonely.  And I’m really sad. 

Upon hearing Antonio tell me she was some happy place now, with a lot of garbage cans, I thought two things.  One, my rats are spoiled and would never eat garbage!  Tsk!  And two, my grief over lost pets is never about the pets.  I mean, it is a little.  But I only get really upset for them when they are sick.  Then I feel strictly for them.  I want to make them better or take away their pain.  But once they’ve passed on, I’m just upset for me. I miss her.  I want her back.  I hurt.  I am sad.  Me me me me me.

Anyway… Here she is a month and a half ago, right after a bath (so, yes, she looks like – and IS – a bit of a drowned rat), hiding in a potted Norfolk pine and making absolutely sure the Christmas lights aren’t food.  That was about when I took her out of the plant, lest the little princess try to chew anything bad and hurt herself.

Dammit, I’m crying all over the place again.

I have a strange and silly little fantasy I wanted to share.

I have less-than-awesome vision. I have to wear contacts or glasses.

I think it would be extraordinarily infuriating (and/or cool) to have my glasses and/or contacts taken away for a period of time when I actually have to be doing things around the house. I think about it, sometimes… How without corrective lenses, my whole world is hazy and nondescript. Nothing but what is directly in front of my face registers with its full meaning. I am very much a CAPTIVE when I can’t see.

I mean, I can get around the house fine. I don’t go walking into walls.  (Well, okay, fine, I do. Unfortunately, it has nothing to do with the lack of glasses.)  But if anything requires visual discrimination, I have to get quite close to figure it out. I can’t watch TV or use my computer or drive a car. I can’t read labels or clocks or the thermostat without smushing my face up next to them.  Crisp piles of things become mushy puddles of color.

In short, I’m hobbled without being crippled.

Of course I fear the reality is I would just get a headache, get fed up, break things, trip, or be entirely useless at whatever task(s) I was set to the point where Antonio would make me put my glasses back on again.

But the fantasy version lets my mind wander… I think I like the idea because it’d be an elimination of something I take for granted and an exploitation of a weakness.

I can’t see very well, but that’s never been exploited, just corrected.  And the ability to see is typically something I either have or don’t have. And there is something comforting about the extremes. Neither is wholly desirably every second of the day, of course, but there is something safe about knowing you’re sitting pretty at one end of the spectrum.  Vision vs. blindness.  Eyes open, eyes closed.  Eyes wandering, eyes fixed on a location (by will or by force).  Eyes free, eyes covered.

I want to be forced to experience that irritatingly fuzzy middle ground, that partial sensory deprivation, and see how I function and how I feel and how much it impedes me, and just how well I can control my mounting frustration.

Famous last words, I’m sure.

Questions compliments of Kaya!

What do you do in your spare time?

Quite honestly? I fret. I worry about big things, little things, nothing and everything. I become terribly consumed with worry and dread if I’m not occupied. It’s a skill, I’m sure of it. (This so was not an essay, but I forgot to tack it on to the last one. Whoops!)

What’s your favorite tv show/ movie/ book/ band/ solo artist (I stole that one from Amber )

I will probably NEVER get the chance to talk about these things in here again, so I’m going to milk the opportunity. Sorry!

Television Show:

Comedy – The Office.

Drama – Well, they mostly suck big, hairy ass. Dexter makes me practically piddle with joy, though.

Movie:

Comedy – Hands down, it’s Home for the Holidays.

Foreign – (I like foreign movies… Mainly because I like to pretend I understand Spanish.) El Laberinto del Fauno (Pan’s Labyrinth) was phenomenal. Maria Full of Grace was great. Even though I had to watch it for a Spanish professor, I actually liked Diarios de Motocicleta (Motorcycle Diaries).

Drama – Hrm. This is hard. This is also just going to be a small grouping of random movies in bunches of genres because I suck at making decisions.

The Shawshank Redemption never fails to make me soar inside. Saving Private Ryan was brilliant. Children of Men was stunning, all around. I loved American Psycho. Donnie Darko made me happy, and the musical selections for that movie were phenomenal. Fight Club rocked my world, Heat blew me away, Memento was original, and The Usual Suspects is destined to be a classic for decades to come. I could probably keep going and going and going. (In fact, I deleted about ten movies outta here at random to cut down on rambling.)

I’m far more interested in discussing movies I didn’t love that everyone else creamed their pants over. But that totally wasn’t the question though, now was it?

Book:

Just to be different… I’ll tell you my favorite picture book. It’s The Mysteries of Harris Burdick, by Chris Van Allsburg. It sends shivers up my spine, even at twenty-six years old. I have an autographed copy (which I am totally going to show off here, though with my name blacked out), and I have urges to sleep with it under my pillow and caress it creepily. Heart, heart, heart. I’ve also got an autographed copy of another of his books, Jumanji. I love it with almost the same level of creep.

Music:

I listen to everything. No, really. Ev-ree-thing. From Korean hiphop to Janis Joplin to British punk to Australian rock to Louis Armstrong to a capella. I don’t really have favorite bands or artists.

I guess I’ll just give a few widely varied examples. (Laugh at me at will.)

I think Miyavi is kick ass. He is a Japanese musician, and here he is performing Selfish Love live. I think live is the only good way to judge a musician, btw. (Song doesn’t start until about 1:35 in.) AND… The fun thing about foreign music is that I have NO idea what’s being said, and it’s so amusing to try to hear “English” in the lyrics. For instance, in THIS song, which is by Jang Woo Hyuk, there are some Korean phrases that sound seriously suggestive if they were English. I watched it and was all “Damn, he can DANCE” and Antonio was all “Did he just sing about a ‘bended cock’ there? Yes, yes he did.” (If you can make it past the hilarious English intro, and about 20 seconds into the song, you’ll hear what Antonio means.)

In the world of British music… Hrm… I love the Manic Street Preachers… As well as Morrissey, The Smiths, The Libertines, and Dirty Pretty Things. Among others.

(Looking on YouTube, I’m realizing it’s WAY harder to get good videos of the bands I listen to. Maybe I should be pretending to like Britney Spears?)

I think The Grace by Neverending White Lights is a gorgeous song. The Arcade Fire does some great stuff. Rebellion (Lies) is fab, as is Crown of Love. (Both of those bands are Canadian, I think.)

My Happiness and Stumblin’ by Powderfinger are guilty pleasures. As is The Fighter by After the Fall. And Hard Act to Follow by Grinspoon. (Those are Australian bands which are pretty much rock and post-grunge.)

Tycho, Mogwai, and The Go Team do some fun stuff too.

I’m going to stop now. Because I obsess over music. Like Woah.

Are you two very much into pain play?

Ah, pain. If I were in control, there’d be pain, for sure. I’d just be VERY particular about it. I’ve had conversations, sometimes in the midst of being IN pain, trying to explain me feelings about pain and I usually end up gesticulating wildly and saying (in what can only be described as pure exasperation), “Good pain, bad pain. You KNOW?” To which he will reply, “No, I don’t.”

I swear sometimes I forget not everyone is a masochist.

So anyway… I love pain, sometimes. I like hating pain, other times. I completely loathe pain, frequently. He likes me to be in pain, perhaps more so (or just in different ways?) than I “want” to be. Which is fine, because I also happen to like not getting my way sometimes. Not all the TIME of course, ‘cause then I hate it, but maybe I like it, but… Well, you know. *makes sense*

I do think we have more to work out in the pain arena though. I think it’s going to take many many years, literally, for us to come to a place of harmony. And maybe not even then. Maybe it’s not about harmony. I dunno. Pain just means different things to me before, during, and after experiencing it, and I suck at communicating that. (See? I can’t even explain it properly here.)

So, we’re into pain play. VERY much into it? I don’t think so. I think it’s always evolving, though. I don’t think I or we will ever be considered extreme, though. At least not in the BDSM community.

Do you have a list of rules?

Yes.

And also no.

But sort of yes.

Only, no.

(I have officially quit trying to explain this after much backspacing and headdesking. I think it’ll have to be its own post. WOO!)

Is he very bossy, or just how much does D/s play a role in your relationship?

Ooooo. Good one. I’m gonna split it up.

Is he bossy?

Well, to put it mathematically – Antonio’s bossiness factor is inversely related to the degree to which things in his life are operating the way he wants them to.

In other words, he likes his life under his control, always and in all ways. (Well, all realistic ways. He doesn’t storm around all pissy because he can’t control the weather. I’d be so amused if he did, though.) But he doesn’t enjoy power for power’s sake. He always has a goal when he exercises his power and control. So if all his goals are met and I’m being a good girl? Nah, he’s not really that bossy.

But being dominant is his default setting. It’s something he is, not something he does. So if things get stressed or anything is out of line, he turns into The Big Bad Boss automatically. If I’m not acting right or he wants something changed? He’s incredibly bossy.

Just how much does D/s play a role in your relationship?

To be oh-so clear (you know, for a change)… It plays a teeny role and a huge role. Heh. I’m so good at clarity!

BASICALLY… D/s is not what this relationship is founded upon. It is, however, pervasive in every single aspect of the relationship. It is not a singular element of our relationship, it is a force that is imbues all elements of our relationship, to differing degrees. It could be removed, and everything we share is still here, perhaps just a bit hollowed, or something. If it had to be put aside, we’d survive as a couple. (It would depend on WHY it was removed, though, I think.)

Does that make any sense? Do I ever make sense?

If I don’t make sense (or if you just wanna), feel free to ask more questions, March ain’t over yet!

Okay, so I’m finishing up questions and will be posting answers in a bit.

But… I have to make a confession first.  I am not a perfect domestic goddess.  And my google-fu designed to hide that fact has FAILED me.

*sighs*

I’m so mortified.

Anyway… My mother gave me these metal cylinder thingies today.  They were my Godmother’s, apparently.  But no one knows what they are since she purchased them right before she died and never had a chance to use them.

I mused for a while… And the only thing I can come up with is they could be candle molds.  But I don’t know if their bases make a tight enough seal for that.  Seems to me they would not have round bases with shaped cylinders if they were for making candles.  But what do I know?  My brother insisted they were for chilling cookie dough, but I thought they were sort of huge for that, and it would be hard as hell to get the dough out, or even to grease the inside if that were the case.  Anyway, I’m going to stop blabbering about my useless guesswork.

They are about 9” long with 3” diameters and I have to know what they are or I will DIE.

Heeeeeelp me.  (You can click for big.)

(Because exams are the most fun thing ever, I’m dividing the questions up sort of like a test format. Short Answer and Essay.  Which has actually given me an idea for multiple choice… Ha!  Anyway, not this time around. So, we begin with the short answer ones…)

First two are from Amber, rest from Kaya!  THANK YOU, ladies!  (FYI, I’m going to be answering all your questions, Kaya.  I’ve just got to take ‘em in sections.  Probably out of order, due to my spastic nature.  Woo!)

When do you think you’ll be able to take that step of being together full time? Just curious on your history and future.

Getting my degree had always been a huge hurdle for me because of my mental health.  I left school repeatedly, (most notably after trying to kill myself my freshman year) for treatment, and to do random things like traipse about the country, and go live on a farm in the Bible belt.  Yeah, I don’t know.  I was mental, remember?

I always felt I NEEDED to graduate, I just didn’t think I COULD. Then I met Antonio.  And it might sound corny, but being and becoming his gave me the confidence, the drive, and the support I needed to simply know I was capable without mentally breaking down.

So about a year ago, I moved back in with my father, about 1,000 miles away from Antonio. See, my university had “residency requirements” and I had no choice but to finish my remaining classes AT the  university.  (I didn’t have to live on campus, it just meant that my final 32 credits could not be transferred in from another school.)

Antonio will be visiting in about two and a half weeks now that I’m all wound down with school.  (See the third question for full details on school!) I imagine we’ll do more discussion into Future Plans then. At this point?  I’m not entirely sure about a timetable…  It’s entirely, 100% up to him.  But, give me three weeks, and I’ll have something more concrete to tell you, even if it’s “And then he said he’d been waiting to tell me, face-to-face, that he fell in love with a chipmunk while we were apart and/or decided to become a priest.  So we’re kaput.”

(Terribly likely, btw.)

And how old are you both? If that’s private, I take it back! *smiles* I am 53 this year and my husband is 43 this year so…I just wanted to know!

I’m always wanting to know ages too.  I just turned twenty-six and Antonio is thirty-six.  We’re ten and a half years apart, which seems about the same as your age difference, only in reverse!  (I’m a Pisces and he’s a Virgo, in case anyone was curious.)

What are you going to school for and how much longer will it take you?

I majored in Psychology because it fascinates me.

I minored in Statistics because I’m a nerd.

Technically, I completed all my coursework for my Bachelor’s in January.  But so far, I’m the only one who thinks I’ve graduated.   I was a transfer student (I transferred from another university when I was 19, following the “Trying To Off Myself Fiasco of 2002”), and I’ve had massive issues with the paper trail from that transfer.  I would LOVE to rant about it, but I promised myself I wouldn’t bore you too much.

What do you do for work?

Right now, I’m a residential counselor.  I took the job a year ago when I set about finishing school, because the hours allowed me to attend classes during the week and still work a full-time position.  I work awake*** overnight shifts on weekends.   This weekend I worked an 11-hour shift, had six hours off, spent two of them driving, then returned to work for an 18-hour shift.  I promptly fell asleep for the last four hours of it, and was awoken by relief staff literally AS I was supposed to be dosing medication.   According to a recent survey, conducted in my living room, I’m extremely awesome.

***FYI, “awake” is code for “and I totally sleep during”

What experience in your childhood had the largest influence on your life today?

Oh, man, that’s hard. I’m going to focus on positive here, and say being homeschooled. I was homeschooled for two years, just before entering middle school.

I learned… I learned HOW to learn.  Before being homeschooled, I already knew how to seek out knowledge, how to lose myself in books, and how to take formal tests. But after, I knew how to truly process knowledge, how to find myself in books, and how to take something away with me from formal tests.

I could ramble about it for AGES.  But I’ll sum it up this way:  It was right in every single way that public education is wrong.  And then it was right in a million more.

I want to know about your favorite type of interaction with Antonio.

This is going to sound cheesy, so I’d like to preface this by saying I am FULLY aware of the cheese factor. I just can’t seem to help myself.

My favorite type of interaction is not limited to any certain activity. It’s anything we do (or that I do for him, even if he is not present) that makes time cease to matter.

Yep.  That’s the thing.  When I do something with him or for him, and that activity siphons away time’s ability to have an impact on my consciousness?  I’m a happy, happy girl.  It means I am totally immersed in HIM. And that’s what I love the very best.

OKAY!  I’m going to cap it there, because I’m tired, and I need to sleep for about a billion and a half hours tonight.  You’re all welcome to keep asking questions.  I really like having ready-made post material!

I am terribly fascinating – I’m SURE of it.

So, I’m officially going on posting strike until everyone who has ever read this blog leaves me massively interesting questions here.

…

…

…

Okay, fine, that’s a total lie.  In truth, tonight I wanted to answer Amber’s question about my relationship.  BUT, I have to ask The Man questions about how specific I can get about my location, our lives, etc.  And he’s not home, and I forgot to ask him earlier when he was home. But, since I’m required to post today, this tripe is what you get.   My apologies.  I promise my next post will contain, you know, content.  *beams*