So, quick business to discuss first:  VFFF is updated – two day’s worth.  Go me!  I have had pretty breakfasts the past two days, so I recommend clicking the tab.  Doooo it, you know you want to!

Second, per my last post. It turns out I am not yet up to sharing.  I wanted to be.  I almost convinced myself I was. 

But then I started writing.

And writing.

And writing.

And instead of posting here, I sent it to The Man.  To me, that was an obvious move.  I’m extremely uncomfortable with the idea of talking about him or my relationship (especially the not-so-awesome parts) here BEFORE I talk to him fully about it, and work through it with him.

It’s not that I don’t share the not-so-awesome parts.  I have, I do, and I will.  It’s just that there is a difference between airing dirty laundry while the emotions are still running high and sharing with you guys an experience he and I dealt with (or are currently dealing with), together.  It would be weird (for me, at least) to ONLY post when things are 100% settled.  Hell, I’d never post.  But it’s also weird to post when things are 100% up in the air.  I need the middle ground before I can come talk here, I guess.

This blog reads more like letters I would write to friends than (as Antonio put it tonight) a reality show.  All the information is the same, it’s just not as “omg, teh!drama” as it could be… As some blogs actually are. 

I don’t know if that makes this a less desirable place to read or not… I hope not, but the culture we live in is all shock and gore and instant updates and dirty secrets and exhibitionism.  And while I want, desperately, to connect on a real and honest level – I don’t think I have to do it in a classless, immature way.

(And I’m not saying any of you guys I feel close to do.  You don’t.  Some people do, but.. You won’t see me talking to them or about them personally, I bet.)

I just don’t think I could POSSIBLY use this place to talk about the man I love if he hasn’t heard from me, personally, all the information I’m putting forth and been given a chance to respond.  He is my focus, and I will always give him the opportunity to respond to and discuss our relationship issues before I give the blogging world an opportunity to respond and discuss our relationship issues.

Now.  To be absolutely CLEAR.  I don’t think anyone who mentioned that I’ve been tight-lipped recently was trying to say I needed to post the details of something I’m  not ready to talk about.  I don’t think the dear dk or Impy were salivating at the thought of gossip or anything.  Not even close.   I know they just want to know about my relationship, precisely as I want to know about theirs, so not in a salacious-gossip way.

It was simply that when it was said that I hadn’t been talking about Antonio, or my relationship I thought, “Yep, they’re right.  I need to talk about stuff!”  And it just turned out, as I completed my writing, that the person I needed to talk to was him.

So I did.  And, when I asked about posting, he said, “Tell them you have things to work out in your relationship and the place for that is between you and I.” 

And that’s the truth, that’s the state of it.  I’ve poured out a lot of things to him (I initially intended it for HERE, so it was actually written in blog-form so I wrote to him things like, “I’m wondering why he did…” and then sent it right off to him, referring to him in third person rather than second!)

Btw, I’m really not keeping anything from you like, “Omg, I’m pregnant and he wants me to abort the child!”  Cross my heart.

It’s just… I knew, even when I was writing about stuff that was in my head, in blog-form, that it wasn’t going up here.  Even as I emailed him and said “this is the unabridged version, maybe if you say it’s okay, I’ll post a less-rambling version on the blog” that it wasn’t going here. I just knew.

Because  I’ve seen people take the route of talking to their blog rather than their partner.  I’ve seen it become habit, and I’ve seen it dig holes in relationships when your blog is the primary “person” you talk to about the fears and pain, problems and concerns, hopes and wishes, confessions and needs in a relationship.  It’s not fair to either party in the relationship and some of that damage can’t ever be undone.  It’s a massively dysfunctional habit to get into, in my opinion. 

In fairness, this IS a blog about a person who is in a relationship – me.  And I came to this corner of the internet saying, “Hey, I’m going to talk about me and my relationship.  So please read!”  And I don’t intend to stop doing that or anything.  It’s just been a hard few months, and the timing right now is such that Antonio and I have things to work out between us, and our communication is suffering greatly.

And it’s a physical, logistical issue with communication, not a psychological barrier.  He’s been visiting his son, then drove home for the holidays, and now he’s working for two weeks out of a hotel room with no internet and he broke his cell phone.  So, it’s tough as hell for him to contact me in ANY way.  And I’ve poured thousands of words out at him he has to respond to. 

So, basically, he’s probably going to have to copy the emails and dump them in Word… Compose responses on his laptop when he can, and then send off replies when he can drag his work-weary self to a place with Wi-Fi.  And then I’ll have follow-up questions and comments and rambling, I’m sure (be shocked, I dare you!) and then… Well… In short?  It could take a while.

So, I guess all I wanted to say is… Stay tuned, please!  I’m still here, I’m still talking… Just maybe not entirely relationship-centric at the moment.  I’d rather be quiet about that stuff than dishonest with you about it, yanno? 

And BIG thanks to everyone who has been wondering and especially dk for saying it out loud, and Impy for seconding her, sorta. It’s actually deeply comforting for me to know that you guys can tell when I’m avoiding something.  It means you know me.  And I like that.  A lot.

So.  DK asked:

I would like to know more about you and Antonio. Outside of this past visit, he seems glaringly absent from most of your posts. I want to hear more about your feelings about this relationship; the good, the bad, and the ugly. That’s what I want to hear about.

She’s added to clarify, at my request: 

It *feels* to me like you’ve been filtering what you write here regarding Antonio over yes, the last several months. Like you don’t want to open that can of worms. And that is of course your right; it’s your blog. But, you asked!

I had asked if she meant ALL my posts ever, or just recently.  If she’d said all my posts ever, I would have scratched my head and said “Buh?”

However, she said recently. So I’ll say this:  She’s right.

And I’ve got a two-post marathon of over two thousand words detailing WHY.  However, I’m sending it along to Antonio first, because I’m uncomfortable talking about him at such great length without giving him a heads-up and the opportunity to veto stuff.   This is just to say I’m not avoiding the question, it will be answered soon, somehow!  

(And I’ve got pictures for VFFF from yesterday and I’m taking them today.  It’s just such a pain in the ass to post ‘em so I’ll do yesterday AND today at once, tonight.  Okay?  Okay.)

I updated VFFF for Day 5. 

*bows*

And I updated WordPress.  I’m 99% sure I can now just reply to comments like a normal blogger again.  This is rocking my world at the moment.

I’ve also got about half a dozen emails I NEED to respond to.  It just seems overwhelming when I think about it. So I procrastinate and do things like cruise the internet.  That’s helping the situation, I’m sure.

I’ve been going round and round in my head about a post about face-slapping, but I’ve arrived at the conclusion it might just be better to ask the specific people who made me curious!

So, now I have a question for you guys… What do you want to see me blog about? 

Any “aw, I like it all!” comments will be summarily deleted.  (Okay, fine, they won’t be.  I don’t delete anything but spam.  But I’m really wondering what, specifically, you’d want to see me talk about.  Is anyone curious about anything in particular?)

My brother drew “Thxgibn” in the rain-coated top of the grill yesterday.  It amused me endlessly, so there you go – post title.

My Thanksgiving was pretty much crap.

Everyone in my family had better things to do than hang out with the likes of me.  I don’t blame them – if my survival was not inherently dependent on being inside my own body with myself, I’d have found something better to do as well.

My mother had my brother and I over for a couple hours the night before, and that was nice-ish.  Then she went up to her loft in the city to prepare for her Thanksgiving with people she house-swaps with, her boyfriend, and some random chick her boyfriend hired to work for him who didn’t have anywhere to go. 

She decided the two most important things were pie and ping-pong, so she baked pies and has a ping-pong table in her loft.  I can respect that kind of logic.

My father went out in the morning, doing God-knows-what, then went to his brother’s house for Thanksgiving.  Then he went to work at night.  (In addition to his regular job, he’s been a call firefighter/EMT for a very long time.  With all the holiday driving and holiday stress, they go on a lot of runs on Thanksgiving, and he was on call.)

I hung around my house, decidedly sulky.  I made Harrison (my brother) hang out with me a bit too, because that’s what little brothers are for. Patrick  (my almost-brother in the Army) is on post, so I didn’t get to see him.

I decided to cook a Tofurky roast, so I put that in the crock pot early.  (It needs a high-moisture cooking environment to stay moist.)  Then I snacked on dried fruit and nuts, which you’ll see in my VFFF from yesterday (I’ll post in a few minutes.)

THEN I lay around hating life because I swear there was something wrong with the dried fruit and nuts (my father got ‘em, I blame him.)  I was in a whole bunch of pain. Incredible stomach cramps, like I’d swallowed a handful of thumbtacks.

I’m almost positive I did NOT swallow a handful of thumbtacks so I dunno wtf that was about.

That ruined the rest of my day, so I lay on the couch, mostly by myself while my brother worked with “zbrush” (or something) for a 3D project.  I watched a movies and watched the rain.

Thanksgiving next year will be very, very different.  I’m holding you all responsible for making sure I make plans to have a WAY awesomer Thanksgiving.  If life treats me kindly, I’ll be living with Antonio long before then anyway.

Speaking of Antonio, he managed to email me Wednesday night.  He and his eldest son arrived safely at their destination – Antonio’s family’s house. 

For me, that was enough to be thankful for.

I’m hoping everyone who traveled (including The Man and his son) makes it home safely. My best and brightest thoughts are with all of you travelers, and with Tom, swan, and T of The Heron Clan. Be well and stay safe, everyone.

I think this “moment” started during the shower-dick-sucking that immediately followed the missed-texts-fiasco.

He started slapping my face.  Not lightly, and not super-duper hard either.  But with enough crack to hurt.

And I started laughing.  I couldn’t help it.  I was so HAPPY I was nearly delirious. I like being smacked across the face.  A lot.  A LOT A LOT.

Then we weren’t in the bathroom anymore. I don’t really remember how I got from the bathroom to right beside the bed.  (Probably magic.)

He kept pulling his cock out of my mouth (or sometimes leaving it in) and slapping me, harder and harder.   And I just laughed and laughed and laughed.  I was in heaven – what ELSE would I do?  Happiness like that just makes me GLEEFUL and glee makes me laugh!

I don’t think he quite got that, though, because the next time he said, “Is something FUNNY?” and smacked me hard enough that I felt it in my jaw for the next two days.

I laughed more.

I was too far off in la-la-happy-land to answer eloquently so I simply said, “If… If you keep this up… We won’t be able to go out in public!  And that’s… Funny!”

And truthfully, that was funny for me to think about, in a really happy way.  But it wasn’t the FULL reason I was laughing.

I was just… So damn… HAPPY to be hurt.

I was VERY much hoping I was going to go from laughing to crying from pain, with nothing in between, but it never made that transition.  I think partially because he was so thrown by how giddy I was.

I wonder if it’s a separation thing.  I don’t get hurt for SO long and then the most minor pain sends me to such a happy place that I’m reduced to fits of pleasure-giggles.

Does anyone else do this, or is it just me?

P.S. – To twisted… Since I can’t directly reply to comments, my email is chloe (at) thenaturalorders (dot) com.  Only, you know, without the (at) and (dot) and the spaces.  Email away!

I miss Antonio.  I miss the real-life him and I miss even being able to talk to him.  Why?  Well, because, in all of his Masterful glory:

• He dropped his phone until it was broken.  He said it was once, I’m thinking it was more like five or six times.  At least.
• He is in a hotel, for work, and is apparently without internet because I barely hear from him. (I don’t blame him for this one, I just SULK.)
• He seemingly is REFUSING to tell me he loves me in those brief moments he can contact me.  No idea why.  It’s odd.  Terrifying too, but I’m going with “odd” at the moment. (*sulk, sulk, hates life, sulk* Okay, fine, he’s not refusing.  He just hasn’t in an abnormal amount of time.  And I notice these things because I miss him so much when we’re out of regular contact.)
• He will be travelling a LONG distance for Thanksgiving and has decided that long-distance driving is NOT a good enough reason to need a cell phone! He’d have my head if I didn’t have one when I drove to work every day, but him driving a third of the way across the country?  Totally fine. So instead of replacing his before getting stranded in the middle of nowhere heading out to see his family for Thanksgiving, he’s going to wait until he gets home from the holiday.

Hmph.

Hmph, hmph, hmph.

This post has slightly less oomph because, as subtle helpfully pointed out, I have been slacking myself.  I didn’t post my VFFF yesterday.  Ack.  I’m doing it now!  Promise!  (Er, well, I will have already done it by the time this gets posted.)

It was just a hell of a day yesterday.  I worked the overnight shift the night before, so I got home yesterday morning, exhausted.  I found out (when I went in for that shift) that Kay’s wake was being held yesterday from 4pm-7pm.  I love having no warning for these things.

So at home Monday morning I tried to nap, failed, and opted instead to have a fight with my father.  What?  It seemed reasonable at the time…

I showered and did my hair and makeup and got dressed in death-clothes.  Then I left my house at 3:30 and met the rest of my staff around 4:10pm.  We got about ten people coordinated and headed over to the funeral home.  Where we stayed for the ENTIRE wake (something about us needing to take all the flowers… and a nursing home and…?  Fucked if I know.)

I was secretly horrified by about a dozen different things.  I will totally share a few!

ONE – I didn’t know ANY of Kay’s family.  ANY of them.  Why?  Because they never gave a rat’s ass about Kay.  She got meningitis when she was two years old, and a temperature of 105 degrees fried her brain.  She was born a totally normal child, and was a normal toddler.  Then, bam, she lost it all because of a bad fever.  Including her family.  They shipped her off as soon as possible, and not a single person visited her while I worked there.  She went home perhaps once a year.  That once a year was not going to be Thanksgiving, btw.  Kay was going to be spending it alone with us – her staff.

TWO – Despite not knowing them, when her family figured out who I was they insisted on saying how sorry they were that I had to find her “like that” and it must have been “hard.”  I pride myself on being able to talk to people of all ages in all situations, but REALLY.  I had no idea where to begin with that one.  Uh, yes, it was hard.  Thanks?  Are you fishing for details?  Do you blame me? Are you attempting to comfort me, oh-stranger-who-I-don’t-like-because-you-paid-no-attention-to-Kay?

THREE – Whoever prepared Kay for this open-casket service ought to be shot.  Her make-up wasn’t blended right at ALL.  And they glued her mouth shut in a DUMB way. (I guess they glue it, right?  I don’t know, I’m not an undertaker.)  Anyway, it was all flat and weird.  Weirder than normal for a corpse, I should say.  My boss got all wide-eyed after we viewed the body, leaned over to me and said in a whisper that was bordering on excited, “Did you read those children’s books I gave you?  Remember The Flat Man?  I just… I can’t stop thinking about The Flat Man!”  (Granted, this is the sort of thing that makes me LOVE my boss.  But still.  If she had made me burst out laughing at a wake, I would have hit her. Kay would have laughed, at least.)

FOUR - My assistant house manager (AHM) is… Well… SHE’S FUCKING INSANE.  She nearly got fired for gallivanting around town with her friends ALL the time ON the clock, IN the company car.  She was written up, put on probation for it – everything. You don’t DO that.  Can you guess who shows up at the funeral home?  Two of her friends, ones we KNOW she was hanging with.  I guess she invited a bunch of her friends to the wake.  You know, because… Uh. Well.  Hell, I can’t even INVENT a reason for that.  Speaking of things I can’t invent a reason for, one of the AHM’s friends rocked up in black stretch pants, a hot pink t-shirt, a black&white checkerboard scarf, and – I shit you not – grey leg warmers.  Why?  Fucking why not, I guess.  Jesus Christ, this bitch is getting fired.

ANYWAY… The long story of my day continues (and includes a few staff ditching the rest of us, my manager telling a Program Director who was getting in my face about unionization not to start with me because I would “destroy him with words”) but the end result? I left my house at 3:30pm and didn’t get home until 10:30pm.  It was a miserable day.

Food for yesterday (Day 2!) is up.  Just click VFFF tab at the top. (There is a link to yesterday’s food as well, because I am subtle is a genius! I tweaked her system a bit but I THINK I did it right…)  Sorry I was late!  And fair warning, I’m leaving for work in two hours and I’ll be at work for TWENTY hours, so… Yeah.  Food for today won’t be up until I get home tomorrow and get everything uploaded.

Whatever, I’m awesome and important enough for “Site News”, I’m sure of it.

I’ve made a new page AND put up my first day of food!  I’m aiming to have all eating finished by 6:00pm but… Meh.  We’ll see how that goes.  I’m often up late because of work, so it might not pan out.  Tonight, so far, it has. 

You can view (and read about) what I ate by clicking the VFFF tab at the top. 

I swear I told it to allow comments but, uh, I totally don’t see a place for that.  Sorry?  I suck at WordPress.  And Antonio is MIA.

Now. I have NO idea how this works for subtle.  She seems to update the page every day, but she still has links to the other days…  So they must not have disappeared… But where did they GO, subtle?  Help meeeeeee!  I don’t understand!

It was a fucking miracle I managed to get a new page up, let me tell you.  This whole “making them disappear but not really disappear” (as well as the comments) thing is currently beyond me.  Help help help help.

I have to leave for work soon, so I’ve got to go.  I’ll catch you all later.

In the meantime, be sure to check out the vegan yumminess in VFFF, and enjoy this Vacation Moment:

THE WINDOW: *being peered through by Antonio*

ANTONIO: C’mere. I have a license plate for you.

ME: Buh?

ANTONIO: I pray for you.

ME: YOU DO WHAT NOW?

ANTONIO: I pray for you.

ME: *hustles off the bed, wishing she had a thermometer, certain The Man must be gravely ill*

THE WINDOW: *being peered through by me*

LICESNCE PLATE: IPRAY4U

ME: *thinks* Sweet Mary, mother of fuck.

THE NEXT DAY: *happens*

THE WINDOW: *being peered through by me*

ME: Hey… What did that license plate say yesterday?

ANTONIO: I pray for you.

ME: Are you SURE?

ANTONIO: Yes. Why?

ME: Look!

THE WINDOW: *being peered through by both of us*

OTHER LICENSE PLATE: PRAY4U2

THE APOCALYPSE: *is mere moments away*

(You can MUST read Part I here.)

The day I was leaving, I spent a good amount of time packing up. Antonio had rented a hotel room by the week, and since I was only there six days, he was going to come back for his things after he’d gotten rid of me.

This, for some reason, made packing way harder for me. No, I don’t mean emotionally, though that was hard. It was harder because there was still STUFF all over the place. I’m used to packing in a hotel room and then scouring it inch-by-inch for left over items so I can SURE i haven’t forgotten anything.  (Like the lube that got tossed under the bed.)  But, since he had his things everywhere, I couldn’t do that this time.

*stress*

Anyway, after I was FINALLY satisfied with my packing in the bathroom, I left my all-packed-up toiletries bag in there because I wanted to brush my teeth once more before we left, and wanted to pack the toothbrush in there afterward. I told Antonio I was all clear in there and he went to take a shower.

I went about my packing in the main room, doing a lot of pacing, packing and unpacking and repacking, muttering to myself, and generally looking like a fool. 

I was finally feeling like I had everything together when he came out of the shower. I went to brush my teeth and grab my toiletries bag.

Instead I stood, gaping, at the bathroom. He was coming out, with a towel around his waist. (And while that’s a lovely sight, it’s not what caught my eye.) He looked behind himself, where I was staring, and said (almost as an afterthought), “I had to go through your stuff to get your shampoo.”

Apparently, totally unbeknownst to me, he had been using my shampoo and conditioner all week. Obviously, that’s fine. But he hadn’t mentioned it ALL week, so I didn’t KNOW he was doing it!  If I had known, I wouldn’t have packed everything up before he’d showered that morning.

Anyway, what left me slack-jawed was the state of the bathroom. He had taken EVERY goddamn thing out of my toiletries bag – shampoo, conditioner, body wash, razor, loofah, makeup-remover pads, razor blades, lotion, nail polish, manicure set, toe separators, etc. etc. etc.

Not only had he taken it all out, he had STREWN it across the floor. It was just… Everywhere.  Like he’d opened the bag, and shook it out on the floor while spinning in a circle or something.

I smiled a shell-shocked, crooked smile at him and said, “All my hard work, undone!” And he just said, “Yup.”

I smiled inwardly, too. Because. You know. It was just so HIM. So Boss-like. So dismissive of that chunk of my time and energy and sanity.

It’s not that I LOVE him dismissing my time and energy or sanity. It was just one of those reminder-moments.  Because as I was thinking how it was clearly easier for him to simply toss MY stuff around to get MY shampoo and conditioner that he had been using all week without even telling ME that I realized… It’s not “my” stuff. They aren’t “my” things.

I don’t get to bring things into this life and this relationship without them, immediately and intrinsically, becoming his. And as his, he can do with them as he pleases.

It is kind of awesome.  Even if it makes me insane(r).

(Vegan) Food For a Fortnight begins on Sunday!

(Gleefully stolen from subtle, who is positively epic in her rockitude.)

I was cruising around on subtle’s blog, and noticed her Food For a Fortnight post.  You can read it right here.  She’s a genius, and I ADORE this idea.  A condensed version of her post follows, in case you refuse to go read the whole thing. (I’ll have you know if that’s the case, I hate you.)

In an effort to make myself accountable for what I eat,  I’ve decided to keep a photo log of everything I eat for the next fortnight. I’m naming it ‘Food for a Fortnight’ or FFF for short.

When I look at foodporn I often find that I’m the most interested in what ‘normal people’ eat ‘normally’. Of course the scrummy-looking desserts and the drop-dead cute cakes that people make are fantastic, but what I really want to know is what does that person go home and eat after a day at work. Call me bizarre for being interested, but I really want to know if they do make peanut butter and jam sandwiches (and for the record, I’ve never tried one) or if they fry up brains or eat a bowl of icecream for breakfast. I’m really fascinated by stuff like that.

If anyone else wants to join me, please feel free! Leave me a comment and I’ll come and marvel at your food log and I promise I won’t poke fun at what you eat – unless of course it involves blue cheese or slimy things, which are just wrong.

(Incidentally, that reminds me.  When I worked in Tennessee, I found a tub of “Pork Brains” in the freezer one time.  If anyone has ever eaten pork brains, I BEG you to comment.  Why, why, WHY did you do that?  Was nothing else available?  Were you pretending they were monkey brains and you were in an Indian Jones movie?  Explain.  I must know.)

ANYWAY… I have come back from my trip to see The Man in a frenzy that feels almost drug-induced.  (Aside from Kay’s death and the pending investigation, of course) I’m happy, and I’m SO DRIVEN.

My first priority right now?  Losing weight.

I am way too fat.  WAY too fat.  My weight has gone up and down and up and down from too skinny to disgustingly overweight for YEARS.  I seem incapable of losing or gaining weight in a healthy way.  Eating disorders will do that to you, I guess.

Since I stopped purging or starving myself, I’ve gained a LOT of weight.  Like, a lot.  My tortured metabolism, eating disordered brain, and food-related OCD (that’s actually diagnosed OCD, I’m not just saying OCD like people do, as a catchphrase) have made it SO hard to lose weight normally.

And in the past months, instead of losing it, I’ve just stagnated, and even gained weight.  My fight to keep my head above water in my emotional whirlpool regarding my increasing distaste for a long-distance relationship, my worry that Antonio wouldn’t want me to move in with him, his emotional distance right now… Well, it all weighed on me SO heavily that I literally just couldn’t care about losing weight and becoming healthier and more attractive. He wanted me to, but I didn’t.  I failed.

All this is not an excuse.  There is no excuse. It’s merely an explanation.

It was just plain stupid and selfish of me to fail like this.  I have disappointed myself, and my Man.  I’m disgusted with that, with what I look like, and with my former apathy about it.  It was pathetic of me to sit and worry about everything to the point where I idled physically.  I wish I’d told you guys about my struggles with it so someone would have kicked me in the ass and told me to suck it the fuck up, buttercup.  I know at least one of you who would have done that for me for sure.

Anyhow, I got home from this trip determined to turn this issue (and others) around.  Once and for all. I began thinking of mega-healthy food and exercise plans, maybe a new online food log, etc.

Then I read subtle’s blog!

Her FFF idea could not have come at a more opportune time.  So I am stealing it.  I’ll start it on Sunday since I have to locate my camera, charge it, go grocery shopping, figure out how to put a new tab on my blog without *gulp* Antonio’s help since he’s off visiting his son.

Along with pictures of every bite of food I put in my mouth, I will try to include nutritional breakdowns (and I’ll provide recipes for anything anyone wants to try!)

While everything I eat will be “normal” food for me, I will admittedly vary my meals more than I would. Not to say I wouldn’t eat these foods – I do, I have, and frequently – but that instead of cooking one large batch of something and eating off it for three days, I’ll cook in large batches, eat it once or twice and freeze leftovers.  That way, I will do myself a favor and get a more varied diet (less chance of bingeing if I’ve got new and fun stuff to look forward too every day!) and be able to have leftovers for a good long time! YAY!

(My spellcheck doesn’t recognize the word “bingeing.”    It suggests “binging” which is not, in fact, a word.  Seriously, wtf.)

ALSO, it will let anyone who is curious about what in the fuck a vegan could possibly eat aside from lettuce.  You’ll see we actually eat good, healthy food that looks and tastes delicious.

I’ll warn you that I tend to alter and mess with recipes to the point where I can’t remember exactly what I did.  Antonio says I have a disease when it comes to this.  I agree – it’s called food-related OCD!  Heh.  But, I’ll TRY to figure out precisely how I do everything so people can try anything they want.  You’ll see my new obsession (“stacks”) and you’ll see what a vegan eats for convenience food because, let’s face it, there are days you just have to microwave dinner.

I’m going to do it like subtle did, and post entries in a new tab.  That way I won’t clog up the blog with stuff no one cares about, and I’ll just post links in regular blog entries when a new day of food pictures is up so you guys can see.

This will also force me to blog EVERY day at some point, yet it can’t be related to the food since that will be separate.  Hrm…  My apologies in advance for all the drivel you will be subjected to!

P.S. – Interesting side note about my drivel. I got an email from a darling girl called Cin tonight.  Apparently, her Master has given her the assignment of reading my blog.  Now,  there are sadists and then there are SADISTS.   Poor Cin!  Making someone read my tripe-filled blog is just MEAN.  Kidding, kidding – I’m fantastic! *grins* Anyway, this was just  a way to give a quick shout-out to the awesome Cin, who I will be cursing with a long and rambling email shortly.  Those of you who know what my emails are like probably should have warned her.

This is part of the famous “Vacation Moments” series. (I’m starting the series right now, btw.)

On Friday the 13^th, Antonio went to work and I stayed in the hotel.

I got a text when he was on his way back saying he wanted me waiting on my knees when he got there. *grin* Being as I’d spent the majority of the day in the bathroom puking (I got sick on this visit.  Joy!), I decided that was a good place to kneel. Besides, it couldn’t be seen from the hotel window or the door. It was practical, if you will.

I took up post in the bathroom. A text came through saying he was five minutes away.

Cue nerves.

I waited.

And waited.

And then I saw motion out of the corner of my eye. And THERE he was! Peering in at me through the window!

He was CHECKING on me! RAWR! That’s so damn hot. I leaned forward – still kneeling! – and waved, so he could see how good I was being.

Then he BANGED on the window.

Huh. That was a little aggressive…

I know, I know! Perhaps he couldn’t see how good I was being! I leaned forward more, smiling, and waving. Look, Sir! Look how good your girl is!!!

“OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR!” he shouted. He shouted in That Voice.  You guys know That Voice.  I know you do.

Cue MAJOR nerves.

I stumbled to my feet and, out of some strange kind of instinct, I took a few steps toward him. Toward the damn window.

“THE DOOR!”

Oh. Right. Yes.

I fumbled around for my keycard and went outside in my bare feet and opened the outer hotel door and our room door, with wide eyes and that panic-churned stomach. He was p-i-s-s-e-d. He stalked into the bathroom and said, “I’m taking a shower.”

I was totally, utterly dejected.

Know what had happened? My phone never got his two final – and goodnatured – texts about forgetting his key and needing me to let him in.

*sigh*

Way to ruin the mood, fucking iPhone.

(Don’t worry, though. He regained “the mood” later. Halfway through his shower, to be exact.  Heh. I knelt outside the tub while he showered and sucked his dick. Then a moment later, he decided to get out of the shower, get behind me, pull down my pants and give me an anatomy lesson. That anatomy lesson? A Slave’s Knees Must Bend In TWO Directions. I failed that lesson, as it happens, and I still have the mango-sized bruise on my shin (from where I smashed into the tub) to prove it.  Stupid uni-directional knees.)