I ain’t going to Mexico.

*sulks endlessly*

It’s not actually all bad, it’s just… Stupid.  I won’t bore you with the whole story.  Basically, some stuff happened last minute with Foster, the guy who was going to care for the dog, and now he’s in the hospital for three weeks… Our old girl turned 17 on Valentine’s Day, so she’s WAY too old to tolerate being boarded, or being left alone for long periods.  Unless you want to clean dog pee and poop of your floor, that is. 

That, combined with the insane cost of having a stranger come live at the house and care for the dog (and the cat, and the rat), and Harrison separating his shoulder while trying to murder people in jiu jitsu… Well, then you have a really stressful situation.

We called the airline, and it’s a $300 fee to cancel both flights.  (Much cheaper than in-home dog care for a week, I can tell you that.)  So we’re doing that.  We then get to spend the $835.55 per ticket (yikes!) on another trip at almost any time, provided we book before December 27th of this year.  Harrison and I don’t have to go to Mexico, we don’t even have to travel at the same time or to the same place.

We probably will, of course, because this was a Christmas present from Mom.  So we’ll likely wait until she travels somewhere else awesome (or even back to Mexico, she found a place she REALLY likes and wants to go back) and take a vacation then.

Meh.

Secretly, I’m hoping Mom decides we should go to _______ for Christmas next year, and we have enough notice that the combined $1,600+ in ticket money Harrison and I have can be used to buy cheaper tickets somewhere awesome.  And since all Harrison and I have to do is buy a single ticket for ourselves somewhere, and the balance left over turns into a travel voucher that can be used for ANYONE… I’m hoping Mom says, “Hey, use that travel voucher to bring Antonio too!”

I’ve decided  a year from now, they should actually know each other well enough to not have a problem with us all going away together.

Or, you know, she can say I can just go away with him, and forget the family time… Mmmmm…

I lost most of my hours at work, though.  Since I put in for the time off and the place I work is single-staffed 24/7, my shifts have been snatched up.  But the pregnant chick at work is all tired and grouchy (she’s due March 25th) and having Braxton-Hicks contractions and seems to want to take a bit of time off.  So I’ve grabbed a shift Saturday the 27th she was supposed to cover, and most likely will have a shift Sunday the 21st because I have the distinct feeling another girl is gonna call out sick.

I’m clairvoyant!

In other news… Huh.  I don’t really HAVE other news. 

The Man sent me a video link today that I’m dying to watch, but I haven’t been alone to do it.  All he said was, “I saw this and thought of you. It’s a good approximation of your life-to-be (except for the part with the other girl.)”

The URL has the words “his wife and slave” in it.  Needless to say, I’m intrigued.  (My hormones inform me this definitely means he plans on marrying me one day.  *swoon*)

I had a super-sweet dream the other day.  I am in the habit of sharing my dreams, since I like to tell The Man about them, and I like hearing about his… He usually has way better dreams than I do – all kinds of adventure and excitement.  I dream about things like pulling cash out of a toothpaste tube with tweezers. (Not making that up, sadly.  That is the most recent dream I can remember.  And one of the least strange ones.  Antonio is of the opinion all the seven million medications I’ve been on have messed with my brain.  I “see” things behind my eyes when I close them at night.  And I giggle and tell him about them.  And he rolls his eyes and tells me it’s time for me to go to sleep because I’m getting insane.)

ANYWAY.  The super-sweet dream featured me sleeping in bed with The Man.  At my mother’s house.  In her bed, creepily enough.  I was really groggy for some reason, and he was trying to wake me up.  He was doing so by poking me in the mouth with his dick and saying, “Open your mouth.  Open your moooooouth!” until I did, and started Ultimate Blow Job Mouth Maneuvers.

Despite the fact that I usually dream as a combination of from my own vantage point and a floating-overhead observer, I couldn’t see more of him than part of his stomach, part of this thighs, and a whole lot of penis.

I loved how detailed my dream was, though.  When I woke up, I could practically FEEL the softness of his skin, the smoothness of the head of his cock, and the hardening of his flesh as he became erect and got uncomfortably larger in my mouth.  I could taste him, I could smell him.  It was wonderful, and it was hard (ha!) to drag myself out of bed after that.  I just wanted to head back to penis-dreamland.

Penis-dreamland is a wonderful world. 

But, lucky girl that I am, I have a Master who wants to make ALL my dreams come TRUE! 

(By “ALL my dreams” I obviously mean “ALL my dreams about morning blow jobs.  Or afternoon blow jobs.  Or night blow jobs.  Or 4:30am-go-the-fuck-away-I’m-asleep-you-insufferable-bastard blow jobs.”)

Okay, I gotta leave for work in about 20 minutes to make it for my midnight shift.  Everyone behave in my absence and don’t make fun of me for typos or incoherent thoughts or sentences that end midway through – I’m on my old computer, a few of the keys are sticking, and I don’t have time to proof this.

I’ll totally be back tomorrow to comment on those awesome First Words you guys shared.  I’m SO glad I asked that question, I am absolutely LOVING your answers!

I’m nosy, I’ll admit it.  Today, here’s what I want to know…

What were your first words to your significant other(s)?

Here are the rules I just invented for this little sharing-game:

1. I want first time face-to-face encounters only! Emails, texts, forum posts, or phone calls don’t count.  Maybe next time.
2. I really do want first words/phrases, but feel free to include words past the basic greetings of “Hey” or “Hello” or “Nice to meet you” to when you said, “You hair reminds me of a poodle” or whatever genius thing came outta your mouth.
3. NO context!  Seriously, don’t explain where you were or why you said it.  It’s funner if you don’t.
4. If you can’t remember, it’s okay.  You will not be shunned for too long.
5. If your partner spoke first or said something snappy after, you can include that too.

I’ll delete your comment if you can’t play by the rules!  I’M SO HARSH! 

Rawr! 

(Also, Itty, I want you to participate.  Or at least tell me later on msn. I’m terribly curious.)

And now, for my part…

My very first words to Antonio were, “Please don’t leave.”

I just HAD to share this.

I was outside on the patio with my brother yesterday, adding water to the hot tub (so the filter would start again, the little bastard.)

That’s when I looked down. 

And saw this… 

INSTANTLY, I ran back in the house, grabbed my phone, and began snapping pictures.

(In case you’re squinting at that photo wondering wtf is wrong with me, let me share a close-up of my discovery.)

Yeah…

Yeah…

YEAH…

We’re all seeing the same thing, here, aren’t we?  Good.

I started giggling madly, and my brother came over to see what I was doing. 

I apparently have no filter between my brain and my mouth because I pointed at the strange little ice formation and announced loudly, “It looks like a butt plug!”

(It took me a full minute to realize I should be horrified with myself, btw.)

Anyway, let’s all just ignore my absent brain/mouth filter and bask in the glory of my discovery…

For a brief moment in time on February the 10th, 2010, this glistening gift was bestowed upon the world.   Since then, the elements have destroyed this miniature marvel.  But we should all feel incredibly blessed to have been able to use the internet to share such a true miracle of nature. 

While the ice butt plug on my patio may have disappeared from the physical world,  I know that you guys, like me, will feel its mark on your heart indelibly.

*smiles winningly*

(You guys think I’m cool.  I’m sure of it.)

An email from the incomparable M:e reminded me I need to update here.  (I’ll be sending an email back too, promise!)

A while back, I wrote that I’d been quiet.  Antonio and I were having issues we needed to work out between us.

I haven’t appeared – because I haven’t felt – entirely happy and secure.

And coming to say: “Things are finally better!” doesn’t pack as much punch for you without really being in the middle of it.  Which, of course, none of you are.  Unless you’re invisible.  Or I’ve invented you and you are actually my alternate personalities.

Antonio and I went back and forth a lot, talking and emailing.  It involved me whining a bit more than I’m proud of, I’ll admit.   It also involved legitimate concerns on my part. About geographic distance, about emotional distance, about the future.  And there were legitimate concerns on his part, too, of course.

I said some things that I’m sure were confusing, and he said things that contradicted each other right and left while he tried to find a way of explaining himself and his desires.

It reminded me of a flow chart, actually.  If I presented someone with a question like, “What do you to do tonight?” there isn’t actually one answer.  There are thirty, and they are dependent on a lot of factors that lie OUTSIDE your actual desires. Like a flow chart, the outcome can be many different things.

We just had to keep talking, inputting, until we could figure out each either/or branch and arrive at the bottom of the chart.

In an outcome top scientists are calling “totally fucking awesome” we’ve arrived at some really kickass conclusions.

After I sent him one loooooong email recently that didn’t involve whining, and instead simply opened myself up… Things starting falling into place.   Some of it is karmic, I swear, because it doesn’t register as anything other than luck!

For starters, instead of going to work for months in East Bumfuck, USA, where I would NEVER see him, he’ll be working in a cool city MUCH nearer to me!  Like, driving-to-visit-on-weekends closer.

Yeah.  I KNOW.  I’m so stupidly excited I literally cannot verbalize it.

(Then he detailed goals he has for this time and said, “A good steady regimen of weekend use should help towards those goals,” and then I was stupidly excited and terrified, yanno.)

He’s also going to come out here for some time, in April.  That’s the next time I have an empty house.

This is our time, our time to get back on track.  We broke the cycle we had going of creating emotional distance between us and not fixing the physical distance, and we’re going to actually BE together.

Which is, in the end, what it’s all about.

Christ, soon enough I may actually have funky and/or hilarious and/or kinky relationship things to write about again.  On a regular basis and everything!  Holy hell.  You guys won’t know what to do with me.