So.  I was supposed to be leaving Thursday to see The Man for six days.  That’s on hold for two weeks now.

My Godbrother killed himself and I was feeling incredibly bad that I was going to be missing the services.  Antonio suggested I try to move my flight.  Given that I have to get time off approved at work two weeks in advance, two weeks it is. 

My Godbrother was older than I was and I haven’t been close to him since I was young.  Then he was like a fun uncle I tagged along after all the time (along with his siblings.  They tolerated Patrick and Harrison and me SO well.)… But his mother, my Godmother, remains one of the most important people in my life.  She passed away from breast cancer in 2002, and she took a large part of me with her. 

So I’m going for my Godbrother, but I’m also going for my Godmother.  Her son, her troubled, incredibly kind son hung himself from a tree not far from my house.  And he never would have done it if his mother were alive. Though I am not religious (and yes, I know these people are my Godfamily, but that honestly has nothing to do with religion – it’s just about looking after one another as family) the only way I can describe her was as an earthbound angel.  She possessed infinite wisdom, kindness, tolerance, grace, patience and selflessness.  I have literally never seen anything like it, not even close.  And if anyone – ANYONE – sought to harm her family, or any innocents, she could muster awe-inspiring power, power you’d swear was reserved for divinity.  She was truly a force of nature.

I miss her, every single day.  I hate that from the day she died onward everyone important in my life would have to merely hear stories about her, and could never meet her and feel the peace that everyone felt settle in their shoulders just by being near her.

Harrison and I are trying to decide how to get to the services.  Go with our mom, or our dad, or just each other?  (Divorce is so cool!!!)  Patrick is on post (he’s the one in the Army) and he keeps saying, “I just want to come home… I just want to come HOME.”  His family basically abandoned him when he was little, and he lived with my Godmother, as a son.  Like me, he drifted from my Godbrother due to age and location differences over the years but… family is family, with or without blood.  He said his boss might let him come home.  That would be wonderful for everyone.

Anyway, sorry, I didn’t mean to go into all that.  The point is I’m staying here for the services.  I feel a lot calmer and better for being able to do that.

Also, my brother Harrison is sick.  Again.  And I KNOW I will be infected. And I think my period is coming.  From a practical standpoint, it’s GREAT that I moved the flight two weeks forward because I fear it would have been a miserable trip if I hadn’t – guilty, sick, crampy and bloody.

But the obvious result of this is that now I have to WAIT to see The Man. And that just plain sucks.

So I’m sulky, obviously, for a whole lot of reasons.  I’ve got emails I need to get out, work I need to do, cleaning and laundry and calling my job and… Ugh.  Everything just seems overwhelming.  Figuring out where the keys are on the keyboard seems overwhelming at the moment.

(I have the feeling I’m going to make a genuine ass out of myself with this post, btw.  Sorry in advance if I do.)

Meow posted a comment she left on Florida Dom’s shaving post, and I hope she doesn’t mind me reproducing a portion of it here.

FD, This a touchy subject for me – the blurring of the lines between women and children. I know most people don’t see genital shaving in that light and I’m happy for them.

Now… I understand that mindset.  I have my own “I don’t GET it” issues with certain aspects of daddy/little girl relationships (probably a topic for another post), and I can see how shaving would translate for someone as (as Meow put it) “blurring the lines between women and children” and while Meow was quick to point out that she realizes not everyone sees it that way… I realized something.

I don’t see it that way, but I honestly wouldn’t care if someone did.

Is it illegal, morally bankrupt, and purely disgusting for an adult to sleep with a child?  Yep.  I’ll defend that viewpoint to the death (not my death, mind, the death of whoever is stupid enough to disagree with me.) Children, like animals and corpses, are not capable of giving sexual consent.  So, sorry, you can’t have sex with them, even if they beg. The End.

HOWEVER.  I don’t care if it turns you on to fantasize about or roleplay something so very “wrong.”

I’ll understand if anyone think I’m a sick fuck for thinking this, really I will.

But if the idea of sleeping with a pre-age-of-consent girl turns you on and your totally-legal-and-consenting sexual partner is willing to dress the part, act the part, shave, and call you “mister” or “daddy”?  Go ahead. Enjoy it, too.

Likewise, if the idea of having sex with an animal turns you on, and your partner is willing dress up in a furry costume and bark like a dog while you have sex?  Cool.  If the idea of having sex with a corpse turns you on, and your partner is willing to dress up and act like a dead person during sex?  Awesome!  Lemme know, actually, and maybe I can find a good makeup artist who will help you out.

I have my own fantasies about sick and wrong things.  Ridiculously painful, violent, soul-shattering rape for one.  (I also fantasize about being raped as a young girl.  At the age of 12 or 13.  By an 40-something year old man in a position of power, most of the time.)  Another thing I think about is kicking the ever-loving shit out of someone (usually someone in particular).  Threatening them, scaring them, hurting them, destroying their confidence and reducing them to a pile of terrified goo.  I want to absolutely destroy their will to live. (Interestingly, I don’t fantasize about killing people. I wish I did, because it would make this post better.)

But those sorts of things can be kept entirely safe in fantasies, and they can be perfectly safe in rolepley too. 

These desires don’t become dangerous unless fantasy and roleplay are not enough.  For me, fantasy and roleplay will always be enough.  I’m never going to go out to biker bars and get hammered in hopes that someone will rape me so violently I might not survive, yanno? 

And I wouldn’t instantly judge that a guy who wanted his consenting sexual partner to dress, act, etc. like a young girl is ACTUALLY a danger to young girls.

I’ll even go so far as to say I think I might understand the young-girl one a bit.  (I might be very wrong, but hell, that’s never stopped me before!) If we humans lived in the state of nature, men would overpower women as soon as they reached sexual maturity and have sex with them.  By force, just as they do in the other species where males are more physically powerful than females.  Spread the seed!  These girls would be fairly young when puberty started. Younger if they are fatherless.  Younger still if they have a “strange” man in the midst, like a stepfather-type-figure or stepbrother-type-figure. (Genes and environment are fascinating things…) Society doesn’t allow this sort of sexual behavior, and perhaps creates latent desires in some men to answer this deep biological call.

If a man has those natural urges, and acts on them in an entirely consensual situation… That’s fine by me. That guy (and his partner) can make those lines blur as much as they like.

Let’s be clear, though:  If I did think this guy was a danger to children, I’d castrate him myself.  And I’d use something rusty to do it.

I just… I don’t see an issue with blurring those lines, or many other lines, as long as everything stays within the bounds of a consenting sexual relationship and there is no risk it will transform into something else.  I’m not saying I’m right, and I’m not saying I won’t change my mind down the road.  I’m just saying I fail to see why it’s a bad thing to have “wrong” fantasies and then bring them to light in the “right” situations. How could I live the life I do and think that at the same time?

Thank you, Meow, for inadvertently making me think about myself and my own moral compass.

This’ll be a long one.  Do excuse.

I’ve babysat for innumerable children, and had long-term/live-in positions with three families and a total of six kids. I LOVE those kids. I was their second mother (in some cases, their main mother) for a time, and they meant the world to me.

And I remember distinctly the feeling in my body when any of them looked at me in a moment of pain or elation and called me “Mommy!” by mistake because I was the one raising them.

I’ve always wanted children. Always. Make NO mistake about that. Every cell and hormone and neurotransmitter in my body sings a siren song to me, telling me to reproduce, telling me how much I want babies.

BUT.  (Yes, there is a but.)

Here’s the thing.

I don’t suffer the delusion that a flurry of hormones (the same ones that told me I was all set and ready for pregnancy at 12 years old, mind you) and a biological drive that amounts to “I WANNA!” is actually a good enough reason to undertake something so massive as bringing a new human being onto the planet.

So I’ve been taking a look at the realistic side of having kids.  And, sadly, I’ve come up with a fuckload of large entries for the “I know my hormones say yes, BUT…” list.  Here are some of them:

The Dying Planet

This planet is dying. We inch closer, generation by generation, to the day when a woman will look at her newborn and think, “I have no idea if Earth can sustain life long enough for you to grow old…”

We ARE destroying the planet. That’s just fact.  But I don’t see many people willing to look into the future. They prefer to make empty gestures, focus on micro-problems, or not to focus on anything at all.

The fact that we’re creating a planetary apocalypse doesn’t seem to affect many people because it’s a slow burn in comparison to things like the economy, cancer, or war.  It’s truly our largest problem, and if we don’t blow ourselves up or advance technology to the point of colonizing on Mars or something, it will be the death of the human race.

One of the things we as a species CAN do is to slow down the rate of reproduction, drastically.  We are far past maximum capacity for this planet. Something has to be done if we expect to be more than a tiny footnote in the pages of the history of planet Earth.

Having too Many Kids IS Our Problem

Okay, fine, so there are too many people on Earth.  But I’m in a lovely, developed country! I don’t live in Africa, with 13 kids. How is this MY problem?

Well, children from developed countries, especially highly commercialized ones like America, are some of the worst things for this planet.  They’re parasitic. Many people say, “Oh, but overpopulation is the problem of OTHER countries! They have way too many kids over in _______!”

And in a simplistic way, that’s true. Say a woman in Haiti has 10 kids and an American woman has 2. The American woman feels she’s the responsible one there. Having only the number of kids she can care for and provide with the best.

Well, actually, no sweetheart, that’s not true in the least.

Because the planet-destroying impact of her two little darlings? It’s equal to the that of two hundred and twelve Haitian children. Yeah, wow.  Way to go, us!

The thing is, America isn’t going to adopt a one-child policy. So the burden will fall to couples who are in  the pool of people who plan on having children to make the choice not to.  It’s the only way to offset the people who just don’t give a shit about reality.  *cough* thefuckingduggars *cough*

The Time Commitment

Most people think of kids as a steadily dwindling commitment. A child will always be your child, and when they’re 35 you will still be on call to field middle-of-the night phone calls. Once a parent, always a parent.

But an adult child does not require the level of supervision and energy a toddler does, obviously.

Your commitment as a parent dwindles over time so that your parental duties become smaller and smaller.

But… That is only if everything goes well.

If it doesn’t? If there are birth defects or severe head injuries along the way? The commitment is no longer a dwindling one. The “empty nest, time to get back to focusing on your partner(s)” option can EASILY be lost. There are millions of feasible ways to end up with an adult-child requiring the care and attention and time of a young child for the REST of your life. 

I see this every day because of my job. 

And call me selfish, but I don’t want that. I don’t want it for me, and I don’t want it for my hypothetical child. Now, granted, IF it happened? I would love my child, care for my child, support my child, for as long as he or she lived (or I was able.) I don’t have any doubts about that. Hell, I do it daily in my job for people I don’t even love. And I’m satisfied with providing that service, with being a caretaker in perpetuity. I know it is a good and noble thing.  I would do it, for my own child.  I just don’t want to have to.  Risk like that… Well, it terrifies me.

The Power Exchange Dynamic

I remain unconvinced that the best, most satisfying course within my PE relationship can be followed while there are children actively involved in daily life.

Of course, some sacrifices, even within a relationship, are totally worth it. And please know I’m not saying the sacrifices necessary in a dynamic and relationship are NEVER worth it to have kids. I just don’t know if they are worth it for ME.

This Man is the center of my universe. I don’t have a desire to lessen our connection or dynamic.  Why would I magically have that desire for the next couple decades so we can have kids?  I dunno…

I don’t want my relationship to suffer just so I can answer a biological imperative that is actually, at this point, a biological death sentence to humankind. The true biological imperative, survival of the species, would be for me to NOT have kids anyway. My body just doesn’t know that.

The Age Difference

Antonio is older than I am. He is enough years older that if we go have kids in the next few years, and every single thing works out perfectly, and when they are 18 or 19 years old, they ship off to college and we don’t see them again except on holidays… STILL, by the time those two decades have passed and Antonio and I are able to finally fully breathe again, fully focus on one another, and do the things we have wanted to do but put off? Well… Who the hell knows if we’ll be capable of doing those things the way we want to anymore! The prospect of clogging up our path, putting things off, and waiting for 20 years or so scares me. 

Adoption?

I’ve mused on adopting. Humans, as a species, do a great job of bringing unwanted children into the world all the time. Someone needs to take on THAT burden before we go breeding even MORE humans.

And it would be great to adopt an older child who has even less of a chance of finding a good home, thus helping a kid who had a lot less hope of happiness, AND forgoing some of the risks of “But will my child be mentally capable of leading his or her own life so that I can get on and live mine when they’re gone?” as well as eliminating some of the “Do I want to be a full-time parent for 20 years and spend THAT long putting my relationship, duties and my service in the number two spot on the priority list?”

Something to think about, I guess.

The Question, In Summary

Some people, even those of us in happy relationships, feel there is a hole in their life. They might fill it with religion, or children, or volunteer work, or education, or drugs.  Some of those fillers are wonderful.  Some of them are not-so-wonderful.

But I guess what I’m asking myself is – Do I NEED children?  Or do I just want them?  Will I feel empty if I don’t have them?  Is there something WRONG with my life and my relationship now that will only feel right if we have a baby? Or do I just have a bunch of hormones surging through me that force me to feel that I want a baby because I am built with a biological desire to Keep The Species Alive! 

Do I want to be a product of my love, devotion, and service to Antonio, or do I want to be a product of my hormonal urge to have babies?  I don’t think I can do both, not fully at least.  And I don’t like doing things by halves.

In The End…

I’m hoping it doesn’t matter what I think.

I don’t get to make this decision on my own.  (Well, yanno, unless I just headed off to a sperm bank one day, but I can assure you if I did that I would be making this decision – and raising my child – VERY much on my own!)

If I’m lucky, I won’t get to make this decision at all.  I’ll be welcome to present my confusion, to explain how I think, how I feel, etc.  But, as things do and as things should, it will come down to what he decides. 

It would be oh-so-slavelike to flip my hair back and say, “I, super-slave, KNOW that my Master doesn’t CARE what I think at all!  He will do anything he wants regardless of what I think and say and feel!”  But I don’t think that’s true. 

I think he’ll wait until we get to this bridge (he won’t want to discuss this now, if my guess is accurate.  I need a LOT more time than he does to feel like I have a secure opinion about something so I have to get started thinking far earlier than he does, which often means I’m thinking about things without the context of “this is presently something that needs to be decided” and he doesn’t like doing that), and then he’ll decide how we’ll cross it. If I’m lucky, it will be his decision and I won’t be given any sort of true vote.  But I can’t help but think he will base his decision, in part, on what he feels will make BOTH of us satisfied with our lives. 

I’m well aware that there are things I am probably not considering.  Things I don’t see, things I haven’t thought of. So I can’t even assume a decision from him will be based on what I’ve said.  There may be other factors that are bigger and more important to him that I haven’t considered. 

Perhaps he believes the sacrifices are worth it. And when it comes down to it – HE is the only one in this relationship who can decide if any of our lives or dynamic –  and my focus on him – can be sacrificed for something else. I can’t, won’t, and don’t want to choose that. it’s not my place, period. 

Perhaps he wants to satisfy his own urge to spread the seed even further (to clarify, he already has two children) or satisfy my overwhelming urge to be a caretaker in a more complete way than just being at his service, and a little creature who is a mix of our blood, genes, life lessons, and love might be the perfect thing.  Again, that’s up to him. And thank goodness.

Because in the end, I trust him so completely that no matter what he decides or why, I know it’s best.  It just will be.  Because he’ll say so. In fact, THAT is what will make the decision right – his seal of approval.

My opinion usually withers and dies when it doesn’t meet with his approval, even if he says it’s okay that I disagree.

The only thing I’m truly scared of?  Him giving me the reins or saying he won’t make a decision like this, that I have to decide, that he doesn’t care either way, etc. 

That paralyzes me. 

Of course, I might go out there at the end of the month and he could decide he just doesn’t want to see me again, so this could all be moot!

I sent Antonio an email today that included a bunch of information about my day, what I’m up to tomorrow (work in the morning, and picking up Mom from the airport in the afternoon) AND I sucked in my breath and then bashfully thanked him for his text messages today.  (I dunno why, it can be hard for me to talk about this kinda stuff.  I feel all shy and I blush like a total prude.)

I said in the email: Btw thanks for your text messages today. you had me thinking about the horrible, bitter, gag-inducing feeling and taste of drinking your hot piss. I hate the act. But I love the feeling of intimacy, humiliation, and your domination over me. It’s incredibly wonderful to feel your ownership and my status as property.

Everyone please note that I once again clarified that I hate the act of drinking piss.  I very clearly said I HATE IT. 

He replied to ONLY that portion of my email.  Wanna know what he said?  Oh, what’s that?  You DON’T want to know?  Well, that’s just too bad, innit!  He said:

Translation: You love drinking my piss, cunt.

Well then.

*ahem*

He says it – it must be. So I take it all back.  I’m officially giving up my position on hating the piss drinking.  Perhaps it’s not my business to HAVE a position on this anyway!  (Unless we’re counting “on my knees with my mouth open” as a position…Then of course, it’s entirely my business to have that position.)

I hereby declare that The Man is right, and I love it.  I love drinking his piss. 

*nods*

(I’m trying to write an entry and it’s well over 2,200 words at this point.  I really, REALLY need to shorten it but I have to head over to see my brother soon, so it won’t happen until tonight, if I’m lucky.)

In the meantime, have I mentioned I’m going to visit The Man at the end of the month?  I so am!

So, in that vein… In a great and time-honored tradition (aka, I did it one time because Lexi did it), I shall share my text messages from this morning about how he plans for this visit to go.  (I’m green, he’s white.  Only the last four matter, the one above was from last night so I know it’s cut off, but I promise it’s unimportant.)

He’s REALLY fucking awesome, isn’t he?  

Incidentally, the other day he told me to “quit pretending” I don’t like drinking piss. 

No matter how many times I explain that I hate it, loathe it, and want to spit it all over him and never ever ever do it again… And that my deep hatred is the very reason it makes me feel good… He never GETS it.  He seriously seems to think I’m pretending to hate it.  I suppose normal people don’t do things they truly hate in order to feel all owned and worthless and property-like, do they?  And between the two of us, Antonio is light-years closer to normal.  So perhaps that’s why it fails to register with him… 

Or, you know, it just hit me… Maybe he totally understands, and he just likes hearing me talk about how much I dislike drinking his piss.  Huh. Clever. 

Listen up, guys. I don’t read my stats, because they’re probably abysmal anyway. Okay, fine, I don’t read them because I’m an idiot and I would probably place some portion of my self-worth in those numbers.

The only stats I look at are the search terms some of you crazy folks use to get here. (My favorite this week is “transparent tube top porn.” Fucking awesome.)

I firmly believe I have one, maybe two people who lurk. This is because I do NOT understand what strange things must go through someone’s brain that would result in “and you know, I DON’T think I need to yammer at this blogger today, or any other day!” I need to yammer ALL the time. At everyone. No matter what. If anyone lurks and reads this blog, you are a stronger (saner?) person than I.

Anyway, since I don’t read my stats, the ONLY way I know if people read this blog is if they comment. That’s it. That’s how I know. Take a minute and let that sink in.

Have you begun to feel sorry for me?  Begun to reconsider your silent role?  No? That’s okay, I’m not out of ideas yet!

The days when someone posts and says, “I read your blog but I haven’t commented until now…” are SUCH cool days. I get a flutter in my stomach, I grin from ear to ear, and sometimes I even clap. Like a little over-excited toddler. Seriously. Antonio has seen me do this.  I know he’s seen because, for some odd reason, his eyes were VERY wide while watching. Go figure.

So, on the off-chance that there are MORE lurkers… You know what? Go ahead and continue lurking. I’m not going to tell you to come out of the shadows if you don’t want to. You can feel free to ignore my stomach, desperate to flutter! Ignore my sad face, yearning to smile! Ignore my idle hands, wishing to clap! Ignore ME!

*sulk*

Have I successfully guilted any of you into commenting? Please say yes… Anyway, to increase my chances that this will not remain a comment-less entry, I have TRIED to allow for anonymous comments. Enjoy if I’ve managed, and feel free to email me (chloe (at) thenaturalorders (dot) com) if it isn’t working.  Because I’m sure that right after “Well, okay, FINE, I guess I can du-lurk even though it causes me STRESS” comes “And now I’ll just move straight to emailing the blogger.”  Yeah, that makes sense.

For all of you unable to use the scroll feature, please see this post for Round 1.

I got interrupted yesterday.  I’ll finish up now.

5 – vanillaimpaired – Impy is amazing.  I think she’s the only blogger I read despite the fact that she writes erotica AND reviews sex toys.  I don’t read either.  Why?  Well, it’s because I’m really, really creepy and I don’t want to read about fake people having fake sex.  I want to read about YOU having REAL sex.  And sex toy reviews just make me think your blog is a useless shill and… (I had to backspace evil and violent things I just typed here about those bloggers.)  Impy, though?  She understands all that.  She balances.  She transcends.  She’s snarky and witty and kind.  She doesn’t fear being blunt, she does some of the best HNTs, and she has an awesome accent that makes me dribble a little when I hear it.  Plus, If we lived near each other?  She’s someone I can see myself being friends with.  This is a rare thing when it comes to females.  Very, VERY rare. 

6 – searching for lexa – I just adore this girl. When I was brand new to her blog, she embraced me with open arms.  And she has, so far, resisted telling me I’m completely off my rocker and need to be heavily medicated. *thumbs up*  I love her blog because you can just jump in and start reading and from even just ONE post, an image of her starts to form in your mind.  Her humor and forthrightness, her brave admissions and her sadness, her joy and her gratitude – they all shine so brightly that you can’t help but feel you know who she is through her writing. 

And… There are a few more blogs I’m a big fan of.  But I got through thinking about listing them and I realize I feel too NEW to reading them.  Check back the next time this kind of award goes around to see who I’ve gotten comfortable with!  (That was creepy, wasn’t it?  Sorry ‘bout that.)

Last, though…

*** Honorable Mention ***

This goes to Amber at Aspects of Amber. I didn’t put her on the “real” list because she isn’t actually blogging at the moment.  I’m SAD when bloggers I like stop blogging.  However, I WORRY when they stop blogging and take down or hide all their entries.  Amber stopped blogging and her entries are gone.  But, God love her, she keeps commenting places.  So at least I know she’s OKAY.  Whew.   (Yeah, I know… She SAID she was fine. It’s just that I don’t believe people who remove or hide every trace of their blog while saying “But, but, but everything’s peachy!  Yes!  In fact, we’re getting rid of everything we shared here because, uh, things are just THAT good!”  It just seems too… too… well, anyway.  I never buy it.  It fails the “making logical sense” test in my brain.)  

Anyhow, Amber is (I refuse to use past tense here, just as I refuse to take her off my feed reader) one of those bloggers who posts a big, long entry that has nothing to do with BDSM and I still wiggle and grin and settle in to read every word. I admit, there are some bloggers – even good ones – who go off on tangents I can’t possibly bring myself to read in their entirety.  (Myself included.  I don’t know how some of you make it through my longer posts.)  Amber, though?  You cherish every word.  She’s funny and she’s smart.  I know those are simple words tossed around all the time – funny and smart – but the complexities behind mastering each of them are life-long endeavors.  Amber is funny, and smart.  Truly.   And she’s just so darn personable.  She needs to come back to blogging, and teach me how to do that.

Okay, time to do a LOL post.

Kitten says she likes to read my blog.  YAY!  She blogs daily, and is open about her ups and downs in her relationship.  Both things I require MUCH more practice to achieve.  Now I’m gonna list some blogs I think are truly great reads…

Now, granted, she “stole” some of my faves but I’ve decided they are going on the list anyway.  Neener neener.  This is probably a good thing because I can’t seem to keep my blogroll up to date.  Not even remotely.  Maybe this will inspire me?

1 – The Heron Clan –  Without a doubt, I have learned more from this blog than any other.  And I don’t just mean about the lives of Tom, T, and swan, though I have learned quite a bit about them because they share openly and often… I have learned a lot about myself.  Sometimes, it’s because I have to think about the topic a whole lot to catch up to the level they are posting on.  Sometimes, it’s because I disagree with a word, phrase or idea.  Sometimes it’s just because I’ve never bothered to evaluate how I feel about certain things.  That’s a gift.

2 – The Occasional Muse (M:e) – I don’t always have the right words to reply to her posts… But there is always something calming about reading them.  M:e is a balanced, thoughtful, open, intelligent woman.  I’ve often found myself rambling endlessly and having no where to put my words except her inbox.  Every piece of myself I’ve ever put in her hands has been kept safe.  And her words – on and off blog – are always wise and hopeful, but never in a sycophantic way.  I envy her outlook on life and fear it’s an outlook I will never be lucky enough to possess.  But her attitude is one that embraces possibility, and makes me think I might just have it in me to come to a place of peace and grace.  She’s priceless.

3 – Under His Hand – Tess was the first BDSM blogger I ever read.  I’ve been a giant, hopeless, makes-a-fool-of-herself fangirl since.   She writes the way I write, she just does it a lot better than I do. (It pains me to admit that, but it’s true.)  I think she TALKS to her readers.  She doesn’t try to cram her life, ideas, and experiences into story-format, because she is gifted enough with the language to connect on that flowing, storytelling level while maintaining a personal voice that truly shines. And aside from that?  I just plain like her as a person.  I want to sit in her kitchen and help her do dishes just so I can chat with her. Did I mention I was a fangirl?  Yeah.  Well.  *coughs* 

4 – doubleknot’s ruminations – dk is a kickass woman with an awesome blog, a penchant for calling her boobs eggplants, and a Master who reminds me (almost eerily) of Antonio.  I’m half convinced her man and mine are twins, at the very least.  I love her honesty.  And this is not to say that any other bloggers are dishonest, not at all.  And yes, she keeps her secrets as we all do, but her frankness is refreshing. She comes right out and says what she means, rather than veiling things. There are also very small smiley faces in her blog.  I’m kind of in love with them.

(I have more.  I got half-way through #5 and realized it’s 7:09pm and I gotta get ready for work omgrightnow.  Round 2 will happen either later tonight or tomorrow.  Also, I’m mostly over the damn plague, so more-regularly-scheduled posting to begin shortly.  Swear!)

Since I’m sick I don’t feel like real-posting. I will share useless crap with you.

I had a conversation with Cleverbot today.  Excerpt:

User: Do you know anything about BDSM?
Cleverbot: A feud is an ongoing fight between tribes or families, I think.
User: BDSM is not a feud. It’s a lifestyle.
Cleverbot: Cannibalism is a lifestyle.
User: Fair point.

Next up, as per the title.  Have you all heard about the 2012 movie?  The following pretty much sums it up:

Also, I got bored and looked up my birthday on the Mayan calendar.  I also looked up Antonio’s.  I got EXTRA bored and screen-shotted the results.  THEN I got epically bored and  tried to write on them.  Laptop touchpad writing in mspaint?  It’s a thing of genius.  Enjoy.

I think that’s all for today.

*salutes*

Anyone else obsessed with the Marble Hornets stuff on YouTube?

‘CAUSE I AM!

If you’re gonna watch, you must start with the introduction (embedded below) and watch through the numbered entries in order, though #15 (just posted the other day! yay!) AND KEEP YOUR EYES OPEN!

I love moderately creepy YouTube sensations. And I love the goons.

Also in “viral” news – I think I’m getting sick.  I feel it in my throat today and my head kinda hurts.  My boss was sick, three of the girls I work with, one of my clients, my brother, and then someone in a movie theater was hacking their plague all over me.  So, basically, it’s unavoidable.  But still, I don’t WANNA be sick.  Bleh.  It’s an excuse to nap, I suppose.