Rock You Like A Hurricane

•August 26, 2011 • Leave a Comment

So everyone and their mother is freaking out about Irene. I’m not freaking. Quite the opposite actually. I love storms and extreme weather. It’s the adrenaline junkie in me. I’m actually really bummed that I’ll be working all weekend…and that it is going to be insanely busy for the next week or so. I can already see it now that there are going to be moronic people calling in saying they don’t have services and want a tech to go to their home and fix it. In the middle of a hurricane. Because TV and internet are so crucial to so many people…

But seriously, I really, really wish I was going to be at home, trying to keep the cats calm and enjoying a nice Pumpkin UFO or glass of wine over dinner while watching the rain come down in sheets and the wind create crazy patterns in the trees and clouds.

I drove through a tornado last year. Well, not through the funnel, but legit right outside of it. There were tree limbs, highway signs and even a giant piece of industrial roofing flying across the highway right in front of me, and my little coupe was being pelted with hail and rain and leaves and it was rocking back and forth. The cacophony was incredible as well as unforgettable.

Maybe it’s my Scorpio nature or the overwhelming presence of water in my chart, but anything that has to do with weather or water just seems to make me feel at home. I think storms are sexy. Truly. I’m not crazy!

Case in point; there is probably nothing more romantic and sensual than kissing the one that you love in a warm gentle rain…making coming in off of a beach or from the yard, and you just stop and cup her face in your hands…

2.0; Making love with the thrumming beat of rain on the windows or roof, a low rumble of thunder and the strobe effects of lightning, giving brief glimpses of sweat and skin…

I mean, maybe it’s just me, but these are some of the things I think about when I visualize my future. I’m going to be with someone who feels the same way about these things, for sure. Because I’m that person that stops and takes cell phone pictures of rainbows framing highway overpasses or the clouds or moon reflecting off of the glass calm of a lake.

Yeah…

Scorpio horoscope for Aug 20 2011

•August 20, 2011 • Leave a Comment

Scorpio Aug 20 2011 Luck is with you today, Scorpio, so be alert to all of the possibilities for making your life better, richer, and more fulfilling. There is no limit to the good fortune that could fall into your lap today, so don’t close your mind to any chance that crosses your path. There is no stopping you now. Don’t limit your goals by thinking up reasons why they could fail. As long as you maintain your positive energy, you are open to new ideas, and you look at your chances with an open, childlike spirit, the force will be with you. — Copyright (c) DailyHoroscope. Download it now — http://bit.ly/DHmobile

Twenty, Twenty, Twenty Four Hours Ago…

•August 20, 2011 • Leave a Comment

I think it is somewhat fascinating that as soon as someone stands up and decides to make changes in their life to be more positive, there are people who can’t wait to tell them no. To tell them they’re crazy. That their goals are wishful thinking.

I’ve had multiple people try to bring down my positivity lately. Maybe because they don’t know how to deal with someone being outwardly positive when all they seem to be able to focus on is the bad.

I used to be just like that. Not too long ago I was lamenting everything. Focused in on the shitshow my life had become…until I realized something very important.

Today is a product of yesterday and tomorrow is a product of today. Extrapolate that outwardly and there it is. The reason why some people just can’t ever seem to move ahead in life or grow.

The more I focused on the shit in my life, the more bad shit seemed to happen. I was stuck on my past fuck ups so much that I made myself fuck up even more. It quickly became a very vicious cycle.

Until I stopped. Until I slapped myself out of it. Until I began focusing on the minutiae of good in my daily life. Little by little things changed. Nothing huge yet, but I understand now that patience really is a virtue. By practicing patience and projecting positivity daily I know life is getting better

I know this. I feel this. My tomorrows will make my yesterdays seem like bad dreams. It may not be tomorrow literally or next week or next month, but it will be so.

Goals

•August 18, 2011 • 2 Comments

My goal

This is it. This is the goal. I will have this and more. Focus, focus, focus!

 

 

Your Mouth Waters

•August 13, 2011 • 2 Comments

 

I guess one might say I’m in a bit of a mood…but definitely in a good way.

I’ve been having better and better days and I owe it all to my attitude and the way I approach each day, each hour…each second.

I need and deserve some good shit in my life, and the only way I’m going to get it is by projecting out there that I am amazing, happy and good. And I am. None of it is an act. It’s me.

I am going to be 30 in 3 months. Yep. I don’t really feel like I’m 30 and I sure as shit don’t look like it either. I’m going to be a bad-ass 30 year old lady. I’m rocking my tatts, and I have a bleached blonde ‘hawk. And not some dinky faux, I mean legit, the barber straight-razored the fade ‘hawk. My intentions are to let it get long enough that if I feel brave enough to try, I can do a pomp…once I figure out the proper mechanics behind it.

I may have gained a little weight, but I know I can get it back off. I think I look pretty decent, even with the extra couple of pounds. I’m still pretty much wrinkle free, there isn’t a ton of grey creeping into my hair, and I feel comfortable in my own skin and in the clothes I choose to wear.

I have a huge heart and beautiful baby blues, plus a huge smile and a nice rack to boot! I’m kind of traditionally old-fashioned in that I believe in romance and monogamy, but I’m very open-minded and imaginative sensually and sexually.

Really, lately I’ve kind of felt a little bit like a rockstar. It’s like I just hit a moment and life started lighting up inside me again.

Now I just need someone to enjoy and appreciate that and me.

Ready? Set. GO!

Sticks And Stones May Break My Bones, But Whips And Chains Excite Me

•August 7, 2011 • 4 Comments

Well, maybe not exactly the way you might be thinking.

Let’s face it, there is very little about me or my life that most would consider ‘normal’, unless you’re also the adult child of an alcoholic, and a co-dependent gambler/possible alcoholic, and are also a lesbian who lives with said parents for financial reasons going both ways…then, I guess we could be best friends, because we would be uniquely suited to just getting each other.

But this is not a post lamenting my situation. It is what it is, and maybe it’ll get worse, but hopefully it will eventually get better. I really am trying to have a better attitude about life and the things in it.

I do however, have sort of a rant, but not of the ‘woe is me’ variety…I really hate when I think I come off that way. Really, my life isn’t that awful when it comes down to it. I have a roof over my head for now, food in my stomach, and a job.

My gripe has to do with how other’s perceive myself and certain interests and things.

For instance, where the fuck are the drag kings and male impersonators in CT? Am I the only one who enjoys them? Am I the only one who loves the idea of feminine masculinity? And I’m not talking about all of this fake ‘butch’ posturing bullshit. There is a huge difference between people who call themselves ‘butch’ and feel they need to behave in certain ways, and women who consider themselves to be androgynous or like to play up the more masculine sides of their personalities for fun, entertainment, or the occasional hot night in.

I happen to be a lesbian woman who greatly appreciates those attributes, and who also considers herself neither ‘butch’ nor ‘femme’.  Actually, I really tend to despise those labels. As if anyone can be summed up in one word. I know I can’t, and I try really hard not to stereotype other people with one word labels either.

I guess if I were to try to describe myself and my interests/predilections, it might go something like this; mostly androgynous lesbian switch with a strong leaning towards bottom-ness and a keen interest in all things daring and potentially kinky or fetishistic.

Now, let me explain the above convoluted micro-descriptives.

I consider myself a lesbian. I am sexually and romantically attracted to biological females. I make the stipulation on biological, because I have dated and find myself attracted to some FTMs. Yes, this might be confusing to some people, and let me tell you, it really fucked with people when I said I was a lesbian with a boyfriend. But that was the truth.

I say I’m androgynous because I’m neither ‘butch’ nor ‘femme’. I float somewhere in the middle. I can and do wear both men’s and women’s clothes. I feel more comfortable and free in men’s clothes, but I love my breasts and when I’m in better shape than I am currently, I find that I actually like showing off my body in tight women’s clothes. I have both masculine and feminine mannerisms and let various forms of both personality archetypes take the forefront depending on the situation. Let me make this clear though, I do not see myself as male, nor do I want to be male, though I have thought of trying my hat at doing drag myself.

Now ‘switch’ and ‘bottom’ are terms I am borrowing liberally from my gay male brethren. They do carry strong sexual connotations, and that’s basically how I’m using them here. I can let the aggressive side of myself come out to play in a big way, and typically have in most of my relationships, but I really come alive and enjoy myself when the more submissive side of myself gets a chance to be showcased. This isn’t in the typical ‘submissive’ frameset most people would guess as in BD/SM or anything like that. I’m not sure if I have an interest in exploring that type of submissive mind…but I mean in the way that I am not in control of the situation (in a safe way though).

As far as the interests in things one might consider kinky or fetishistic, there’s a laundry list of things I think are interesting/sexy/could be fun that apparently fall outside of what are considered ‘acceptable norms’. My love of gender pending performers and FTMs for one. An interest in learning more about and exploring the world of sex toys. My affinity for indie queer porn. My strong desire to date someone who would pack in public for me and be more aggressive. A love of tattoos and other body art. Female ejaculation. Gender play. Role playing within the bedroom or relationship. Authors like de Sade and A.N. Roquelaure that explore the depths of the human mind/sexuality/what some would call depravity.

I don’t think I would be interested in the more intense examples of sexual sub-cultures, like being made to bleed or pony-play or being kept in a cage like an animal…though I’ve known people through the years who love those sorts of things.

I guess as a Scorpio and an individual, I’ve always been intrigued by the ‘seedier’ side of life. For a while before I lost my last job, when I knew things were heading towards the shitter, I considered the idea of doing porn. Part of me really liked the idea of being able to explore sides of myself that have been shoved aside, part of me liked the idea of thinking about how people might see me and find me desirable. It seems really empowering. I still would like to be photographed nude in an artfully professional manor. I want to embrace my sexuality and especially my sensuality more and more. I don’t want to feel like I need to hide that part of me.

I am a sexual and sensual being. There’s no secret that I am a much more confident woman when I’m in a relationship and actively affectionate and intimate. Maybe it might be a little fucked up that I become more ballsy when I’m being fucked, but it’s true. Let’s face it, I typically average a year in between ‘relationships’, and when I have one, they don’t last. My longest one in over 4 years was only for 3 months, and really only a few weeks of it were what I would consider ‘good’.

Oh, another disclaimer/descriptor I need to add to myself: monogamous. I don’t believe in polyamorous relationships. I just know in my heart of hearts, I could never do it. I can’t even casually date more than one person at a time. (I mean, it hasn’t exactly come up that I would be dating more than one person at a time, but still)

I consider myself to be an extremely loyal and dedicated human. I also consider kissing to be intimate, and I believe in emotional cheating. These beliefs have lead to me being accused of being controlling, because I’ve taken issue to someone telling me a month into something that they need to be able to fuck and love other people. Sorry, but that just isn’t my cup of tea!

I would make a really, really bad whore. Sex can be just sex, but the second emotions are involved, I’m a one-person woman.

Shimmy, Shimmy, Quarter-Turn

•August 6, 2011 • 1 Comment

I feel like dancing. In the rain. In my bedroom. All alone, I don’t care.

Dance, dance, dance. As though no one would notice. Just dance my cares away.

I want to date someone who’ll dance with me, even if I’m terrible at it. I want to date someone who would never feel embarrassed by me.

I deserve the world, and I want someone who wants to make me a huge part of theirs…as I will make them a huge part of mine.

I’m done with trying to prove my worth to people through gifts and spending money (lots of money) and time (even more time) showing them I’m worth being ‘loved’…because guess what? I more than deserve it.

And a big fuck you to anyone who thinks for a second I don’t.

I will have the kind of relationship I deserve.

Better Than Chocolate

•August 2, 2011 • 1 Comment

OK, NetFlix gets a bonus point for this one. But only one. And only because I love this movie.

I remember seeing it in NoHo when I was 18 with some girls from school. I had bleached spikes, an eyebrow ring, and wore shiny vinyl pants, replete with steel-toe Docs and cockiness to match.

I was in love with a spaceman’s daughter and trying to maintain a friendship after an ill-fated fling. I spent hours laughing away the day in Faces and Thornes, whole days perusing books in Atticus, and more time than I care to admit sneaking into the thumpa thumpa of the Grotto.

This was the NoHo before tattooing was legal. When Divas was still a normal club with an alternative/industrial/fetish night. Before my first girlfriend ever graduated high school and matriculated at Smith.

I lived on the 2 In Twenty floor, volunteered at the Stonewall Center, and became the youngest person to program and run the lighting board for a full-scale production in the UMass Theater Department.

I was attractive, young and totally care-free. I let go of a lot of inhibitions. I was surrounded by an ecclectic, open-minded cacophany of people and voices.

It was fucking magic! While it lasted…

The past few years I tried way too hard to fit the molds other people wanted me to squeeze into. Whether it was for work or for love, I gradually started losing pieces of my vibrance.

I don’t know, maybe I’m feeling the enormity of turning 30 in a few months and not feeling like I’ve really started living. I chopped all my hair off again (growing it out for my last job was just dumb) and I started bleaching again. I started dressing for comfort again instead of demand…which means more and more guy’s clothes and less trying to dress the part of a femme bottom. (Femme I’m not, nor Butch either…but the rest of that is fairly accurate)

I’m slowly becoming more comfortable with expressing my desires again…I used to not hide this shit. Really. I mean, I wasn’t exactly comfortable with those conversations, but at least I used to try and bring things up with the women I dated. That went by the wayside after one too many rejections.

Yet another common theme in my life. I don’t handle rejection or failure well, yet I always seem to set myself up for it. I lay my loyalties with undeserving people, take on responsibilities that aren’t my problem, love people who seem to want me to fix them, and run around cleaning up after other people’s messes…also, very common character traits for an adult child of an alcoholic. Things I’ve been working for years to overcome.

I’m getting there. Slowly. I still don’t handle rejection quite as gracefully as I would like. I have a tendancy of completely ridding people from my life when I’ve been hurt past a certain extent…but I’ve been told that’s actually healthier than keeping toxic people in your life as so many lesbians are known to do.

I don’t have room in my life for superficial relationships. I put a lot of myself and work into the relationships I have, platonic or otherwise, and I don’t have the time or energy anymore for needless drama. I wasted so much of myself and life on bullshit.

I want a few select people to be in my life. People who respect and love me the way I am and don’t want to force changes upon me, but want to get to know me over and again as I grow through the rest of my life. Maybe I’ll have a small life because of that, but who needs 1,000 friends on Facebook anyway? Who has time?

I have time for work, self-exploration, love, and hopefully some fun in my future. No drama. No bullshit. No excuses.

 

Are You Still, Still Breathing?

•August 1, 2011 • 6 Comments

What the fuck? I randomly just broke out into tears a few moments ago for absolutely no damn reason. Maybe I’ve been thinking too much about my past and the things I’ve done every step of the way to fuck with my life. Bad decisions. Worse activities. Even more toxic relationships.

I fucked up my life. I did. No one else. And I have been trying to own up to that and rectify the wrongs I’ve wrought for quite some time now. I feel as though nothing I can do will make things right.

I need things to be right. I need to not take on more responsibilities than I should. I need to have a life of my own without being constantly afraid.

It’s not my fault I had a shitty upbringing, I know that. But lots of people have had shittier ones and seem to have been able to move on in their lives with smiles on their faces. I’m not sure why I can’t. I don’t know why it’s like I sabotage myself turn after turn.

It really bothers me that I fit so many of the characteristics of an ACOA. I hate feeling like I can be explained. But you can’t ignore the obvious. A lot of who I am today, at almost 30 years old, is a result of my growing up.

My father is an alcoholic. My mother is not much better, and she also has a gambling problem. They both smoke like chimneys. They can’t stand each other. They rampantly cheated on each other my whole life. They haven’t shared the same bed since I was six or seven. My mom dragged me along with her on her daliances so my father wouldn’t suspect. She used to let her boyfriend at the time serve me soda with vodka in it when I was 12 and 13 years old. I almost beat the shit out a woman in her 40’s when I was 15 because she hit my mom when she slept with her husband. I hit my father and called the cops on him one night when I was 16 because he threw a chair at me in a drunken rage. My father used to belittle me and hit me.

Despite all of this I still thought I was relatively normal and well-adjusted. But maybe I was just good at kidding myself. I mean, I got good at hiding things. Made cover stories for bruises and things. Made excuses when my parents wouldn’t let me do things or didn’t socialize with other parents. Fumbled over words when kids I grew up with heard my dad yelling at me through open windows. Eventually I just really withdrew. Would life have been different if I weren’t an only child? Maybe. Maybe part of the issue is the deep seated resentment my father has for my mom for not giving him a son. Maybe the resentment my mom has for my dad insisting they try having another kid after too many miscarriages and then having a still born. Who knows.

None of this is an excuse. I’m not asking for anyone’s sympathy.

I doubt any of this really sheds any light on me or my personality. I don’t know if anyone really even cares. I know I’ve burned far, far too many bridges for someone still so young.

I have hope though, that I can fix this life. That somewhere along the line things will be ok and I’ll be on the right path. I have hope still in my heart someone will love me in spite of who I was, because who I am now and who I will be tomorrow is an amazing person. They will respect that I can accept and acknowledge my past as being a part of who I am now.

Because I am. Even if I am the only person who thinks so.

Story Of My Life

•July 29, 2011 • Leave a Comment

 

I find it endlessly fascinating that movies and tv shows slip in a little Social D from time to time…and it’s always in scenes that show a rebellion from the expected norms for whichever character(s) the scene focuses on.

I love Social D. I love the sound. I love the feeling they evoke.

This is part of the reason why I also like The Black Keys. I’m finding myself on a music kick lately that is taking me back to middle and high school and my very brief stint in college.

I’ve been reminiscing about the days when I could wear Docs and a tight tee or tank with guy’s jeans and no one thought it was odd. I miss those days. For more than a few reasons.

It was a seemingly simpler time. I had a beeper and Napster was just released. My biggest concerns were how I was going to get snuck into clubs because I was only 17. I felt pretty bad ass. I felt good about myself. I had friends, had a good time every day and didn’t give a shit about the consequences.

I miss those days…but I don’t miss the cocky asshole I was headed towards becoming.

I had a blast. An epic time. For a brief few months in my life I felt invincible and free.

Now that I’m laden with responsibilities and the heaviness of past decisions, I find it even more important to bring back those memories…to remember a time when life was lighter.

I find that it helps keep life from feeling so overwhelming.

Also, it’s nice to remember that I wasn’t always this boring, broke fuddy-duddy…I did (and still do in some aspects) have a wild side to me.