So on the first of the month, I wrote about how I wanted to make some changes in my life. The feeling of being overwhelmed with work has not waned at all, but just having a perspective and attitude adjustment has helped. It's helped more than I realized it would, actually.
My meditation/cleansing room is very much a work in progress. I went looking for cheap paint in the "Oops we mixed the wrong color" section at Lowe's - haven't found any I want yet, but I'd love to start the painting in that room with colors that take something considered useless and turn it into something lovely. Repurposed, just like the room and my focus.
My detox on work has been the highlight of the past few weeks. I'm calling it a detox for several reasons. First, I'm getting better at putting the work phone down when I get home and NOT checking it until the next morning. While several of my days have turned into long nights, I've made it a point to close the laptop, put it away, and focus on us. It's helped that my boyfriend needs frequent foot and shoulder massages as a result of his job. I do this during our together time in the evening while watching TV. When I need a foot massage or a neck massage from my long days, he's always there for me.
And when we're not massaging each other, we are curled up on the couch, someone's head on a lap. Normally his head is on mine, as I don't like to lay down and watch TV. On a really stressful day, he'll have me lay down, and he'll pet my hair and tell me how he loves me and take care of me.
I love these evening rituals together. I've let them get away from me. I've skipped them. Had my phone or laptop out for twitter or work. Now I don't. It's completely for us now. Its all that matters.
Now for a big change. I signed up for an exercise class. I've actually never been to a class with other people. I've belonged to gyms and even had personal trainers - all I let them do is keep me on track. I hated the focus and I wasn't super serious about making changes. This is a huge, major step for me.
I am so nervous. I'm nervous of wearing my loose and baggy exercise clothes on a body I'm not confident in in front of other people. It doesn't matter that everyone will be a stranger - oh gosh I hope they are! - as I just don't want to sweat and look exhausted in front of other people.
I also do not like the appearance of weakness. In anything. Its a huge psychological block, but one way I get in trouble with my body is trying to prove "I can do it." I can't push myself too hard or I'll end up hurting my body. My entire focus will be to take it easy, take it easy, take it easy. Warm up to it. After years of sitting on my ass, my body will need some time to get used to this new routine.
I'm freaked out. Nervous. Excited. Change is coming... I am ready.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
My biggest regret, or another reason I'm a sex blogger
My biggest regret has nothing and everything to do with my ex. As much as I want to separate him from it, or include him even to the point of blaming him, I know that's not fair. There is no point of the finger or easy fix to this. And it haunts me.
This will take some explaining.
I was a 16 year old high school graduate (I know I was young -- but homeschooling does have its advantages sometimes)... who wanted to go to college, but whose parents were completely against letting their underage daughter on any university campus. As a compromise, I agreed to go to a very conservative, private Christian college where the dorms had curfews and class attendance was mandatory, so I would be well watched. I was.
I started out as a religious studies major, as I've always loved world religions and how man interacts with them. I met my ex, my first real boyfriend. We started dating in February, and by May I was convinced he was "the one." I spent the year in France studying the French language, and fell in love with what felt like my people and my home. I visited the little French village my grandfather lived in and the home he stayed in during World War 2. My heritage, my home.
Coming back to the States made me an emotional wreck. The first few weeks back at college were terrible. I was depressed and homesick. Now 18, I considered running away... but with a zero balance in the bank knew I wouldn't get far after I charged a plane ticket to my credit card.
I remember sitting at my desk in my dorm room, crying. Sobbing. I was mourning my loss. I had wanted to stay - another 2 trimesters and I would have been ready for the DALF exam to gain access to French Universities --- and then just run off into the sunset of French education. But no, I rocked myself in my chair, arms crossed, and wept. I was stuck... the ex and I were now engaged, and I remember thinking, as I rocked in my chair, how dangerous continuing this relationship was. I wasn't sure if my love for him was as strong as my love for France/Home. I remember saying aloud, "I hope I don't hurt him."
The wedding was 4 weeks after graduation. I ended up a dual major, French and Psychology. I loved both equally. In French I found myself, in Psychology I pursued my interest in sex and research. Every project I completed was related to sex. My senior project had a huge representative sample size and showed a statistically significant correlation between pornography use and sexual activity on our campus. Entirely shocking for our extremely conservative campus; I liked to talk about what no one else would.
Graduation. We both wanted grad school. I was torn - French, or Psychology? In French, I could teach, write, talk, travel. I could still connect to that Home. In Psychology, I could continue learning, teaching, and researching. I loved the research. I couldn't decide, and he did. We mapped out our future like this:
1. Marriage
2. He attends grad school for 5 years while I support him
3. I attend grad school for 5 years while he supports me
4. We start a family and live happily ever after
Here's the problem: I had 2 degrees that require either a teaching certificate or Masters in order to work in those fields, so I ended up working in business -- an area I had no interest in, but could use my ability to teach and work with people to become a trainer and problem solver.
During his 3rd year of grad school, I was already tired of waiting for my turn. I could feel the clock ticking on my ability to transition to a grad program where either a knowledge of very advanced French grammar and vocab OR statistics and all those personality theories would be required. Each semester he was in school, I felt like I was bleeding knowledge. French words came slower; some were forgotten. I wasn't using the language and it was dying inside of me.
In my free time, I researched programs. When I read about Middlebury College and its language programs, part of me died. It was the heaven I wanted in a grad program! But it was so impractical - we were married. Spouses don't just up and live across the country and neither one work and both go to expensive grad programs! So I would wait. And the clock ticked. And more language died in me.
I turned back to Psychology -- and sex. And fascination grew. I loved sex - reading about it, studying it, researching it -- and yet, my sex life SUCKED. I hated sex in real life.... I was so unhappy. Disconnected. I did research. I tried to fix things. Resentment grew for many reasons. But could I actually go down the route of Sexual Psychology? Sexual Anthropology? Counseling Psychology? If I was such a fail in my own life, how could I even consider it professionally? And so the dream died within me.
When I was out of options, I turned to TESOL. This was a program that worked with languages and could be used in the USA or anywhere in the world where an English teacher was needed. If I were ever on my own, I could go anywhere... and not be stuck wasting my talents where I wasn't sure they belonged. So during his fourth year of grad school, I researched schools and planned. During his fifth year I applied, and three months after his graduation, I started my own grad program.
At another private school. A year after his graduation, we were getting divorced. In the mess of things, I didn't stop to think about this consequences of this program, until I was 2 semesters from graduation and realized: my monthly student loan bills + rent + transportation would eat up almost my entire paycheck in this new career field. And that was positive thinking.
I quit the program. Officially I'm on a leave of absence for personal reasons while I consider throwing away 18 credits of grad school in a career and degree I'll probably never use.
So, now what? I'm 28. I owe nearly $60k in student loans. And now, more than ever, do I regret not making the choice to make Psychology and my love of sex a career. I started reading otherwise dull, academic books about sex while I was an undergrad. I am made for this career.
I love to teach. Talk. Listen. Challenge. Research. I've had such a journey from sexual mismatch horror to such perfect connection.... I know so much about exploration and kink. I come from a conservative background - something I still wrestle with in understanding how I think about things.
I've talked a lot about why I'm a sex blogger: Joy. Joy that has to be shared. Joy spilling out. The simple fact is: I love sex. Not just experiencing it. I love the biology of it across all animals. I love the emotional aspect. I love the cognitive process of sex. And that's a major reason why I write this blog: It's my passion.
My passion is sharing, exploring, and hopefully helping others explore and find their satisfaction. I write because if I don't I cannot focus on anything else until its done. I have to write. I've limited this blog to my own sexual experiences for the most part. Perhaps I need to expand to include some of the books and articles I read.
But deep down, there's nothing that I want more than to make this my career. But at $60k in the hole on student loans, I'm not sure I can even afford a student life, not to mention the bill for when in 2-7 years I completely program and press "restart" on my career and debt repayments.
I feel stuck. Trapped. At the bottom of a well.
There is no one to blame. I could blame my parents for limiting my scope of choice in a college and the possibilities connected with that. I could blame my ex for stealing 6 years of possible grad school from me and being OK with me throwing my dreams down the toilet in the name of "love."
Really, I can blame myself. I do blame myself. All along this story I've made choices, and they were ones where my gut was always conflicted. Torn. Uncertain. I'm not sure I ever chose the right road.
Right now I feel conflicted, torn, and uncertain. I don't know what choice to make.
This will take some explaining.
I was a 16 year old high school graduate (I know I was young -- but homeschooling does have its advantages sometimes)... who wanted to go to college, but whose parents were completely against letting their underage daughter on any university campus. As a compromise, I agreed to go to a very conservative, private Christian college where the dorms had curfews and class attendance was mandatory, so I would be well watched. I was.
I started out as a religious studies major, as I've always loved world religions and how man interacts with them. I met my ex, my first real boyfriend. We started dating in February, and by May I was convinced he was "the one." I spent the year in France studying the French language, and fell in love with what felt like my people and my home. I visited the little French village my grandfather lived in and the home he stayed in during World War 2. My heritage, my home.
Coming back to the States made me an emotional wreck. The first few weeks back at college were terrible. I was depressed and homesick. Now 18, I considered running away... but with a zero balance in the bank knew I wouldn't get far after I charged a plane ticket to my credit card.
I remember sitting at my desk in my dorm room, crying. Sobbing. I was mourning my loss. I had wanted to stay - another 2 trimesters and I would have been ready for the DALF exam to gain access to French Universities --- and then just run off into the sunset of French education. But no, I rocked myself in my chair, arms crossed, and wept. I was stuck... the ex and I were now engaged, and I remember thinking, as I rocked in my chair, how dangerous continuing this relationship was. I wasn't sure if my love for him was as strong as my love for France/Home. I remember saying aloud, "I hope I don't hurt him."
The wedding was 4 weeks after graduation. I ended up a dual major, French and Psychology. I loved both equally. In French I found myself, in Psychology I pursued my interest in sex and research. Every project I completed was related to sex. My senior project had a huge representative sample size and showed a statistically significant correlation between pornography use and sexual activity on our campus. Entirely shocking for our extremely conservative campus; I liked to talk about what no one else would.
Graduation. We both wanted grad school. I was torn - French, or Psychology? In French, I could teach, write, talk, travel. I could still connect to that Home. In Psychology, I could continue learning, teaching, and researching. I loved the research. I couldn't decide, and he did. We mapped out our future like this:
1. Marriage
2. He attends grad school for 5 years while I support him
3. I attend grad school for 5 years while he supports me
4. We start a family and live happily ever after
Here's the problem: I had 2 degrees that require either a teaching certificate or Masters in order to work in those fields, so I ended up working in business -- an area I had no interest in, but could use my ability to teach and work with people to become a trainer and problem solver.
During his 3rd year of grad school, I was already tired of waiting for my turn. I could feel the clock ticking on my ability to transition to a grad program where either a knowledge of very advanced French grammar and vocab OR statistics and all those personality theories would be required. Each semester he was in school, I felt like I was bleeding knowledge. French words came slower; some were forgotten. I wasn't using the language and it was dying inside of me.
In my free time, I researched programs. When I read about Middlebury College and its language programs, part of me died. It was the heaven I wanted in a grad program! But it was so impractical - we were married. Spouses don't just up and live across the country and neither one work and both go to expensive grad programs! So I would wait. And the clock ticked. And more language died in me.
I turned back to Psychology -- and sex. And fascination grew. I loved sex - reading about it, studying it, researching it -- and yet, my sex life SUCKED. I hated sex in real life.... I was so unhappy. Disconnected. I did research. I tried to fix things. Resentment grew for many reasons. But could I actually go down the route of Sexual Psychology? Sexual Anthropology? Counseling Psychology? If I was such a fail in my own life, how could I even consider it professionally? And so the dream died within me.
When I was out of options, I turned to TESOL. This was a program that worked with languages and could be used in the USA or anywhere in the world where an English teacher was needed. If I were ever on my own, I could go anywhere... and not be stuck wasting my talents where I wasn't sure they belonged. So during his fourth year of grad school, I researched schools and planned. During his fifth year I applied, and three months after his graduation, I started my own grad program.
At another private school. A year after his graduation, we were getting divorced. In the mess of things, I didn't stop to think about this consequences of this program, until I was 2 semesters from graduation and realized: my monthly student loan bills + rent + transportation would eat up almost my entire paycheck in this new career field. And that was positive thinking.
I quit the program. Officially I'm on a leave of absence for personal reasons while I consider throwing away 18 credits of grad school in a career and degree I'll probably never use.
So, now what? I'm 28. I owe nearly $60k in student loans. And now, more than ever, do I regret not making the choice to make Psychology and my love of sex a career. I started reading otherwise dull, academic books about sex while I was an undergrad. I am made for this career.
I love to teach. Talk. Listen. Challenge. Research. I've had such a journey from sexual mismatch horror to such perfect connection.... I know so much about exploration and kink. I come from a conservative background - something I still wrestle with in understanding how I think about things.
I've talked a lot about why I'm a sex blogger: Joy. Joy that has to be shared. Joy spilling out. The simple fact is: I love sex. Not just experiencing it. I love the biology of it across all animals. I love the emotional aspect. I love the cognitive process of sex. And that's a major reason why I write this blog: It's my passion.
My passion is sharing, exploring, and hopefully helping others explore and find their satisfaction. I write because if I don't I cannot focus on anything else until its done. I have to write. I've limited this blog to my own sexual experiences for the most part. Perhaps I need to expand to include some of the books and articles I read.
But deep down, there's nothing that I want more than to make this my career. But at $60k in the hole on student loans, I'm not sure I can even afford a student life, not to mention the bill for when in 2-7 years I completely program and press "restart" on my career and debt repayments.
I feel stuck. Trapped. At the bottom of a well.
There is no one to blame. I could blame my parents for limiting my scope of choice in a college and the possibilities connected with that. I could blame my ex for stealing 6 years of possible grad school from me and being OK with me throwing my dreams down the toilet in the name of "love."
Really, I can blame myself. I do blame myself. All along this story I've made choices, and they were ones where my gut was always conflicted. Torn. Uncertain. I'm not sure I ever chose the right road.
Right now I feel conflicted, torn, and uncertain. I don't know what choice to make.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Travelling around the bed
I was laying in bed on a Saturday afternoon, naked. I looked at him, still somewhat bashful even after all these months. He looked at me and my body did a little uncontrolled wiggle of excited.
"Well?" he asked. "Are you going to spread 'em or not?"
I giggled, and spread my legs wide. I had known he was waiting for my legs to spread so he could eat my pussy as he had told me he would do at some point this weekend, but at this moment it had been his suggestion. His offer to eat me "good."
He did not hesitate, but slid in between my legs, leaning on his right arm, as if we he were going to have a conversation with my cunt. He ran his left hand up my thigh, and my eyes closed in relaxation and anticipation. I thought I knew what was going to happen. I thought.
He started as he normally does, making me feel his hot breath on my lips and clit. I can tell he's so close, but he's not touching me so all I can do is wait. He took a couple more breaths and I felt my body yearn for his hot tongue. His breath was so hot, but I knew a soft, wet touch was imminent.
And there it was. Ohhhh yes, that familiar and yet I can never get enough of it: his tongue brushing gently against my clit. My body begins to relax and all that exists is my cunt for him. His short licks are focused on my clit but soon turn into these broad strokes that cover all of my pussy and so soon my voice is echoing in our room from my soft screams of pleasure.
I rock my hips up slightly to give him better access, and he holds me in the right position. I lose all thought and feeling in the rest of my body; everything that exists is in my cunt and that noise I am somehow making without effort.
His licks are driving me wild. Normally he doesn't just lick me. Normally there is tongue fucking, sucking, kissing. Fingers. Right now, there is just licking. He licks me up and up and up, the same motion. It feels so damned good and yet I'm not coming or even close to it. I'm just building and quivering as his tongue plays with me. Minutes pass.
And then, something unexpected. He turns his head sideways to my pussy, and his lips seal around my clit. He doesn't suck, but his tongue starts flicking across me. I am SCREAMING. I can't stop it. The pleasure is so intense and it doesn't stop. I orgasm three times and he doesn't even slow down or take a break.
All I feel is hot wet mouth on my clit and the small surrounding area. No air. Just his mouth and tongue and me. It's too much. Too much pleasure. I'm still screaming. My hands are through the bars on our headboard and I'm pulling myself away. I have to get away.
He has one of my legs, and he uses it to keep me to him so his lips are on me. Still on me. That tongue is flicking at me. Oh god it's too much - I have to get away!
I start pushing at the mattress with my free foot, and my body beings to turn sideways. My pushing left foot is off the bed, now I'm really stuck. I see my pillow go flying off the bed as failing arm tries to get some leverage. It brushes my bedside table and the lamp rocks back and forth. I'm trying to catch my breath from all the screaming but I can't.
My arms manage to grab the quilt and I pull - it does nothing. I'm now laying across the top of our bed, shoulders on his pillow, trapped with him on my pussy. I pull on the headboard to try and get away. I wiggle my hips. HOW is he keeping this air tight seal on my pussy? His mouth hasn't moved - it's all hot down there and now I am experiencing one orgasm after another. I'm overwhelmed. Blind. Parched. My hands find headboard and I pull/push myself against it and the matress and my shoulders are hanging over the edge of the bed - on his side. I've maneuvered across our king size bed desperate to escape the pleasure that is his mouth and my pussy.
He's followed me, he's glued to me. It's like a vacuum seal and I can't get away. I am screaming so loud my throat hurts. It's dry. I have a fleeting though that I could fall off the bed if I keep pushing myself - but how else to get away?
Hit him! I raise my hands to land blows on his shoulders and stop myself - or rather, a very strong orgasm rips through my entire body and I fall back, half of my off the bed and he's holding onto me as I scream, "Stop! STOP! OH GOD STOP! I CAN'T!" It's the best torture and I don't know how I am enduring it.
I shake my trapped leg, hard, and try to push him back away from me with my feet. He relents and I curl up on the bed, panting. Breathless. I'm still moaning, but I'm coughing. My throat is dry. I can't wet it. I try to talk, but there are no words. I still can't open my eyes.
"Why'd you make me stop?"
My eyes flutter, and what comes out are incoherent mumbles. I'm a crazy person, driven mad by pussy eating. He laughs.
"No, I don't think I'm done."
I whimper. He pushes my legs open and pauses. I briefly open my eyes and all I see is pure lust in his. I acquiesce and fall back on his pillow, his mouth attacks me again.
"Well?" he asked. "Are you going to spread 'em or not?"
I giggled, and spread my legs wide. I had known he was waiting for my legs to spread so he could eat my pussy as he had told me he would do at some point this weekend, but at this moment it had been his suggestion. His offer to eat me "good."
He did not hesitate, but slid in between my legs, leaning on his right arm, as if we he were going to have a conversation with my cunt. He ran his left hand up my thigh, and my eyes closed in relaxation and anticipation. I thought I knew what was going to happen. I thought.
He started as he normally does, making me feel his hot breath on my lips and clit. I can tell he's so close, but he's not touching me so all I can do is wait. He took a couple more breaths and I felt my body yearn for his hot tongue. His breath was so hot, but I knew a soft, wet touch was imminent.
And there it was. Ohhhh yes, that familiar and yet I can never get enough of it: his tongue brushing gently against my clit. My body begins to relax and all that exists is my cunt for him. His short licks are focused on my clit but soon turn into these broad strokes that cover all of my pussy and so soon my voice is echoing in our room from my soft screams of pleasure.
I rock my hips up slightly to give him better access, and he holds me in the right position. I lose all thought and feeling in the rest of my body; everything that exists is in my cunt and that noise I am somehow making without effort.
His licks are driving me wild. Normally he doesn't just lick me. Normally there is tongue fucking, sucking, kissing. Fingers. Right now, there is just licking. He licks me up and up and up, the same motion. It feels so damned good and yet I'm not coming or even close to it. I'm just building and quivering as his tongue plays with me. Minutes pass.
And then, something unexpected. He turns his head sideways to my pussy, and his lips seal around my clit. He doesn't suck, but his tongue starts flicking across me. I am SCREAMING. I can't stop it. The pleasure is so intense and it doesn't stop. I orgasm three times and he doesn't even slow down or take a break.
All I feel is hot wet mouth on my clit and the small surrounding area. No air. Just his mouth and tongue and me. It's too much. Too much pleasure. I'm still screaming. My hands are through the bars on our headboard and I'm pulling myself away. I have to get away.
He has one of my legs, and he uses it to keep me to him so his lips are on me. Still on me. That tongue is flicking at me. Oh god it's too much - I have to get away!
I start pushing at the mattress with my free foot, and my body beings to turn sideways. My pushing left foot is off the bed, now I'm really stuck. I see my pillow go flying off the bed as failing arm tries to get some leverage. It brushes my bedside table and the lamp rocks back and forth. I'm trying to catch my breath from all the screaming but I can't.
My arms manage to grab the quilt and I pull - it does nothing. I'm now laying across the top of our bed, shoulders on his pillow, trapped with him on my pussy. I pull on the headboard to try and get away. I wiggle my hips. HOW is he keeping this air tight seal on my pussy? His mouth hasn't moved - it's all hot down there and now I am experiencing one orgasm after another. I'm overwhelmed. Blind. Parched. My hands find headboard and I pull/push myself against it and the matress and my shoulders are hanging over the edge of the bed - on his side. I've maneuvered across our king size bed desperate to escape the pleasure that is his mouth and my pussy.
He's followed me, he's glued to me. It's like a vacuum seal and I can't get away. I am screaming so loud my throat hurts. It's dry. I have a fleeting though that I could fall off the bed if I keep pushing myself - but how else to get away?
Hit him! I raise my hands to land blows on his shoulders and stop myself - or rather, a very strong orgasm rips through my entire body and I fall back, half of my off the bed and he's holding onto me as I scream, "Stop! STOP! OH GOD STOP! I CAN'T!" It's the best torture and I don't know how I am enduring it.
I shake my trapped leg, hard, and try to push him back away from me with my feet. He relents and I curl up on the bed, panting. Breathless. I'm still moaning, but I'm coughing. My throat is dry. I can't wet it. I try to talk, but there are no words. I still can't open my eyes.
"Why'd you make me stop?"
My eyes flutter, and what comes out are incoherent mumbles. I'm a crazy person, driven mad by pussy eating. He laughs.
"No, I don't think I'm done."
I whimper. He pushes my legs open and pauses. I briefly open my eyes and all I see is pure lust in his. I acquiesce and fall back on his pillow, his mouth attacks me again.
Friday, November 23, 2012
Tony Harris, video games, and the problem of the "geek girl"
Last week, the 'geek world' exploded with the Tony Harris rant about fake geek girls and how they're a pox to the world, etc etc. I'm so sorry not sorry at all I missed the initial outrage on facebook and heard about it when it was a day old and the web of geek girls and their supports came out in droves to criticize his words and very sexist point of view.
My only reaction to Mr. Harris is this pro tip: IF YOU DON'T WANT GIRLS DRESSING UP IN SEXY OUTFITS AT CONS, THEN DON'T DRAW THEM SO SEXY IN THE COMICS MR. ARTIST.
Anyone see the irony, there? He complains about the sexy little skimpy clothing, and yet, I haven't seen anyone point the finger back at him, a famous comic book artist, and ask: Isn't this YOUR fault in the first place? If you had drawn the women as real women and less than a scantily-clad barbie-like superhero, then perhaps these girls wouldn't be TRYing to dress that sexy.
Or maybe, just maybe, he's mad that a lot of the women in cosplay get-up look a hell of a lot better than the male-geek population. After all, how many male geeks can achieve the un-human like nature of Thor and his muscles? Or Superman's triangle body? The Hulk's lack of body fat? Not very many. Let he who is without body-fat cast the first stone...
Let's really get to his point: for Tony Harris, and unfortunately too many others in this world, girls are "fake geeks" and to even be considered for this category of awesome, they must prove themselves. Over and over and over. As a self-proclaimed geek girl myself, I've had it with not being taken seriously in my geek status. I've never met a girl who considers herself a geek without having an actual claim to the title, either. (Another pro tip: Girls who don't like geeks are NOT going to dress up and hang around other geeks. It's like oil and water. Girl geeks don't geek-shame!)
I've been questioned about my knowledge of Star Wars (even though I used to be the #2 expert on a well-known internet knowledge base/forum), my knowledge of computers (even though I've built several -- yes all on my own!), and I've even been told that my "geek glasses aren't enough" to call myself a geek. (I agree -- but don't judge me before you know me, asshole). Oh, and girl gamers? You're probably just a guy playing a girl in the game -- because girl gamers aren't serious gamers. Girls can't appreciate what a REAL gamer is. (Cue endless eyerolling...)
One of myfavorite worst experiences of geek girl shaming was shopping at Fry's Electronics for RAM. I went there with my ex, a tall, pale white male whose appearance generally screamed geek. (Read: relatively poor fashion sense, deathly pale skin, slightly overweight, dexterous fingers from gaming, and a pompous attitude from accomplishing a lot in the online world but little in reality). The RAM was for my computer - which I had recently completed for my first solo build - and I wanted more RAM than the 8 GB I had installed. Rather than buy online from Newegg, I thought I'd give the local big box store a shot to meet my immediate desire. I had a suspicion of what would happen, but the reality was just awful.
We went to the parts area of the store, and looked at the wall of RAM with pricing, etc. In this area of the store, you have to enlist the help of an employee to know if they have stock and order it to the cash register as you don't touch it until you've paid for the product. I found what I wanted, and approached the employee:
Me: "Excuse me?"
Employee: "Yes? Can I help you?"
Me: "I'd like to know if you have an item in stock."
Employee: (looks at my ex) "What were you looking for?"
Me: "I'M looking for RAM, a 4 or 8GB stick."
Employee: (Looks back at my ex) "What kind of RAM?"
Me: (waiting a moment, letting the silence build a moment.) "DDR3 is what I'm looking for."
Employee: (Looks at my ex for confirmation. Ex looks at me. Employee eventually acknowledges my existence). "Ah, ok. Let me check..."
For the rest of our transaction, he talked to me but looked to my ex for confirmation after every sentence and statement. Needless to say, I didn't make my purchase there and avoid that store whenever possible. Every time I'm in there with a male, its assumed I'm the idiot girl who's completely ignorant and doesn't know shit about technology.
As a girl in a man's world, I'm always talked down to. I obviously don't know enough about a topic to be THAT much of an expert. I can't POSSIBLY be THAT into Star Wars -- it just doesn't happen. It's fantasy. To all the doubters and haters, I give you another pro tip: you don't own the title 'geek.' It belongs to MANY people outside of you and your own definition. 'Geek' unfairly assumes he is a pale, fat guy living in his mother's basement who can't socialize outside of the 'geek' circle and is destined to be virgin for life unless he manages to score one time with that really awkward girl that no one really likes.
Is that really who the geeks are? No! Granted, I've met one guy who fit that to a T, but that was one in all my life of geek sharing. If you don't fit that description, remember there are hundreds and thousands out there who all have their own unique way of fitting into the 'geek' way. That brings me to another pro tip: Geeks come in a variety of expertise, so don't pick out ONE factor and JUDGE everyone by that one epitomic definition. Mr. Harris went off on comic book readers and convention attendees - in my opinion, a relatively small corner of the geek market, actually. The thing is, there are TONS of ways you can be a geek, and participating in cosplay or reading comic books are not the "one way to geekdom." Really. Traditionally 'geek' has to do with science fiction, fantasy, and technology. But those areas have broadened considerably, just as the word 'geek' has. You can be a LOTR geek by studying Elvish as part of your doctorate and be completely computer ignorant. You can be a LARPer who also loves all things Superman and know nothing about table-top gaming.
Pro tip: Don't scare away the n00b geeks by telling them how much they #fail at being a geek. Remember, we ALL had to start somewhere in our search for geek. We all learned along the way, and no one knows it all from the beginning. Honestly, being a geek is where you have some specialized knowledge of a topic that holds a lot of value to you, but can and may hold little real-world value (unless you're a lucky one who manages to make a living doing something your geeky self loves. Congrats! you're living a dream so few of us do.)
This brings me to my final pro tip: If any of these "fake geek girls" exist, they are NOT going to spend the time and money required to cosplay just to mess with you; you are NOT that important, so stop the paranoid thinking that reads like this: "OMG, the fake girls are trying to flirt with me! Where's my fake girl x-ray scanner so I can run away from all these hot, nerdy chicks who I swear are lying to me!" Seriously, you sound crazy. And no one, not even geek girls, will like and stay with a crazy person.
Disclaimer: I don't read comic books and I don't really enjoy comic book movies. I don't like the over-dramatized action. It grates on me. I like fantasy and science fiction, but the whole superhero genre is not my thing. But I like a lot of other things.
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| Screenshot |
My only reaction to Mr. Harris is this pro tip: IF YOU DON'T WANT GIRLS DRESSING UP IN SEXY OUTFITS AT CONS, THEN DON'T DRAW THEM SO SEXY IN THE COMICS MR. ARTIST.
Anyone see the irony, there? He complains about the sexy little skimpy clothing, and yet, I haven't seen anyone point the finger back at him, a famous comic book artist, and ask: Isn't this YOUR fault in the first place? If you had drawn the women as real women and less than a scantily-clad barbie-like superhero, then perhaps these girls wouldn't be TRYing to dress that sexy.
Or maybe, just maybe, he's mad that a lot of the women in cosplay get-up look a hell of a lot better than the male-geek population. After all, how many male geeks can achieve the un-human like nature of Thor and his muscles? Or Superman's triangle body? The Hulk's lack of body fat? Not very many. Let he who is without body-fat cast the first stone...
Let's really get to his point: for Tony Harris, and unfortunately too many others in this world, girls are "fake geeks" and to even be considered for this category of awesome, they must prove themselves. Over and over and over. As a self-proclaimed geek girl myself, I've had it with not being taken seriously in my geek status. I've never met a girl who considers herself a geek without having an actual claim to the title, either. (Another pro tip: Girls who don't like geeks are NOT going to dress up and hang around other geeks. It's like oil and water. Girl geeks don't geek-shame!)
I've been questioned about my knowledge of Star Wars (even though I used to be the #2 expert on a well-known internet knowledge base/forum), my knowledge of computers (even though I've built several -- yes all on my own!), and I've even been told that my "geek glasses aren't enough" to call myself a geek. (I agree -- but don't judge me before you know me, asshole). Oh, and girl gamers? You're probably just a guy playing a girl in the game -- because girl gamers aren't serious gamers. Girls can't appreciate what a REAL gamer is. (Cue endless eyerolling...)
One of my
We went to the parts area of the store, and looked at the wall of RAM with pricing, etc. In this area of the store, you have to enlist the help of an employee to know if they have stock and order it to the cash register as you don't touch it until you've paid for the product. I found what I wanted, and approached the employee:
Me: "Excuse me?"
Employee: "Yes? Can I help you?"
Me: "I'd like to know if you have an item in stock."
Employee: (looks at my ex) "What were you looking for?"
Me: "I'M looking for RAM, a 4 or 8GB stick."
Employee: (Looks back at my ex) "What kind of RAM?"
Me: (waiting a moment, letting the silence build a moment.) "DDR3 is what I'm looking for."
Employee: (Looks at my ex for confirmation. Ex looks at me. Employee eventually acknowledges my existence). "Ah, ok. Let me check..."
For the rest of our transaction, he talked to me but looked to my ex for confirmation after every sentence and statement. Needless to say, I didn't make my purchase there and avoid that store whenever possible. Every time I'm in there with a male, its assumed I'm the idiot girl who's completely ignorant and doesn't know shit about technology.
As a girl in a man's world, I'm always talked down to. I obviously don't know enough about a topic to be THAT much of an expert. I can't POSSIBLY be THAT into Star Wars -- it just doesn't happen. It's fantasy. To all the doubters and haters, I give you another pro tip: you don't own the title 'geek.' It belongs to MANY people outside of you and your own definition. 'Geek' unfairly assumes he is a pale, fat guy living in his mother's basement who can't socialize outside of the 'geek' circle and is destined to be virgin for life unless he manages to score one time with that really awkward girl that no one really likes.
Is that really who the geeks are? No! Granted, I've met one guy who fit that to a T, but that was one in all my life of geek sharing. If you don't fit that description, remember there are hundreds and thousands out there who all have their own unique way of fitting into the 'geek' way. That brings me to another pro tip: Geeks come in a variety of expertise, so don't pick out ONE factor and JUDGE everyone by that one epitomic definition. Mr. Harris went off on comic book readers and convention attendees - in my opinion, a relatively small corner of the geek market, actually. The thing is, there are TONS of ways you can be a geek, and participating in cosplay or reading comic books are not the "one way to geekdom." Really. Traditionally 'geek' has to do with science fiction, fantasy, and technology. But those areas have broadened considerably, just as the word 'geek' has. You can be a LOTR geek by studying Elvish as part of your doctorate and be completely computer ignorant. You can be a LARPer who also loves all things Superman and know nothing about table-top gaming.
Pro tip: Don't scare away the n00b geeks by telling them how much they #fail at being a geek. Remember, we ALL had to start somewhere in our search for geek. We all learned along the way, and no one knows it all from the beginning. Honestly, being a geek is where you have some specialized knowledge of a topic that holds a lot of value to you, but can and may hold little real-world value (unless you're a lucky one who manages to make a living doing something your geeky self loves. Congrats! you're living a dream so few of us do.)
This brings me to my final pro tip: If any of these "fake geek girls" exist, they are NOT going to spend the time and money required to cosplay just to mess with you; you are NOT that important, so stop the paranoid thinking that reads like this: "OMG, the fake girls are trying to flirt with me! Where's my fake girl x-ray scanner so I can run away from all these hot, nerdy chicks who I swear are lying to me!" Seriously, you sound crazy. And no one, not even geek girls, will like and stay with a crazy person.
Disclaimer: I don't read comic books and I don't really enjoy comic book movies. I don't like the over-dramatized action. It grates on me. I like fantasy and science fiction, but the whole superhero genre is not my thing. But I like a lot of other things.
Foot Fetish Friday: Black Leather Heels
These are the first pair of shoes I bought with the BF's help, about a month after he moved in with me. By help, I mean he watched me try on a bunch of pairs and we both agreed these shoes were the best choice. They reflect some of my "I like to kick ass" attitude, along with "Lick my toes, you bitch" that I sometimes get in the bedroom.
This is the "come kiss and lick my toes" view.
Purple thong. Oh, and the rest of me is naked too, but you're not going to see any of that.
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| I should make him kneel and lick. |
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| Peek of toes |
This is the "come kiss and lick my toes" view.
 |
| Legs! |
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| Whoops! I've nearly lost my panties! |
Purple thong. Oh, and the rest of me is naked too, but you're not going to see any of that.
Thursday, November 22, 2012
What I'm thankful for this year
I have a lot to be thankful in life. I don't have to worry about being imprisoned for writing a sex blog. Or being bisexual. I have a job that allows me to support myself. I purchased my first home this year. I have a boyfriend, and not just "a boyfriend."
I have an incredible, loving, best friend who is a supportive partner to me. He truly, honestly, deep-down loves in me in a way I don't fully understand. I love him so completely that I can only hope I love him to the same extent that he loves me.
So many blessings in life, I wanted to recount some of them for you:
I have an incredible, loving, best friend who is a supportive partner to me. He truly, honestly, deep-down loves in me in a way I don't fully understand. I love him so completely that I can only hope I love him to the same extent that he loves me.
So many blessings in life, I wanted to recount some of them for you:
- Technology like blogger and twitter. Without them, I wouldn't have found this outlet for all my kinky joy that I just want to share with all of you. The world. Prosperity.
- Sex toy technology. For obvious reasons.
- Friends who understand that sometimes I need to work hard and encourage me through some of the hardest work challenges of my life.
- My cat, who seems to have a sense for when I'm sick or stressed and will come and cuddle with me and purr on me.
- My new fridge that has an ice machine, something I've lived without in my adult life until this point. And I'm a dedicated ice chewer.
- My boyfriend's love of my ass and thighs. My thighs have been the part of my body I've been most uncomfortable with but he has made me feel so beautiful with them.
- Computer gaming, because I love to kill orcs and goblins in LOTRO.
- Learning how to squirt. HAVE YOU SEEN THE WET SPOTS?
- Blog comments. Because some of the sweetest and kindest things that have ever been said to me have come from those who comment on my blog.
- I came out in 2012 in didn't lose any friends or family. While my parents and some friends may not understand what it means to be something other than straight, they are still supportive of me. I've been able to discuss this somewhat in depth with my mom and, despite her very strong conservative religious views, she has kept an open mind.
- My boyfriend has a steady job now, after 300-some job applications and several interviews.
- That I work for a company and have a boss that are generally flexible, so I can work from home or come in late and not worry about negative repercussions.
- Foot rubs from the boyfriend, especially on my foot/ankle that hurts when I stand too long, walk too much, drive too much, or the weather changes.
- Having a huge bathtub that fits 2. (but with the right girls, possibly three?)
- That my boyfriend always wants to end every evening on the couch with me, no phones or computers allowed. Its our time.
- That our favorite way to fall asleep is me holding him as the big spoon and he is my little spoon. He's always asleep within minutes and when he grips my hand to his chest in his sleep, I drift off to sleep soon after.
- Vegetarian refried beans. I love to eat them.
- Online bill pay. It makes my life so easy.
- Skype. Because then I can watch some of my twitter friends on-cam. And that is wonderful technology.
- A mentor who cares about me professionally and personally.
- Boyfriend love and respect. And the only person who has ever said its OK to cry -- and held me when I finally let the tears fall.
- When he talks about he wants to marry me.... and he masturbates thinking about me in a wedding dress!
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2012
I found out today that I was nominated for, and was included, in the Top 100 Sex Bloggers of 2012! I had no idea I was nominated so this came as a complete surprise. I'm shocked, honored, and so excited! I don't know all of these bloggers, so I'm going to start reading and, hopefully, find some new blogs to love and explore.
The Top 100 Sex Blogger list is carefully and meticulously compiled by Rori at http://www.betweenmysheets.com .
100. YOU! As always, I want to leave a place on this list for ALL the awesome sex bloggers out there! So please leave a comment on Between My Sheets with your name/URL to tell us about your sexy blog!
The Top 100 Sex Blogger list is carefully and meticulously compiled by Rori at http://www.betweenmysheets.com .
100. YOU! As always, I want to leave a place on this list for ALL the awesome sex bloggers out there! So please leave a comment on Between My Sheets with your name/URL to tell us about your sexy blog!
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
TMI Tuesday: Prostate Love
1. When is the last time you or your loved one had their prostate checked?
I'm not sure? My BF has never had his checked by a doctor, and since I don't have one, I guess our total is zero times.
2. Besides a medical professional, how many other people have had their finger up your ass?
Just one, my boyfriend. Normally I get one finger or a thumb. Once I had two fingers.
3. Have you ever given or received a prostate massage? Did you like it? Did you cum or orgasm?
I have given several prostate massages and really enjoyed them! I trimmed my nails extra short and wore latex gloves to keep my fingers clean and prevent any accidental scratching. It was very awesome to watch his face as my finger found his prostate and started to massage him. He did orgasm, and the feeling of his prostate right before orgasm was AWESOME.
4. Do you enjoy anal play–rimming, fingering, penetration, etc.?
I do! I love to rim and finger and peg my boyfriend. All three are a lot of fun and bring a lot of fun play into our sex life.
Oh, and I like receiving fingering and rimming at any time! Penetration is OK with a dildo or his ass, but I don't like it all the time.
5. Ever had anal sex?
A. No, and I don’t want to.
B. No, but I am dying to try it.
C. Yes, but it is just okay.
D. Yes, love it…can’t get enough of it.
E. That’s the way I like it. Anal sex is the best sex.
For me: C. It's just okay for me. I do enjoy it, but somewhat infrequently.
For the BF: he says D. He loves anal play - both giving and receiving.
6. You are about to have anal sex, which method would you choose (You must choose one.):
A. Finger up the ass
B. Prostate stimulator/massager
C. Penis–real or strap-on
For me, A. I really love having a finger in my ass. It feels so good, and when he wiggles his finger in my ass while he's fucking me, it gets me so excited!
He would choose C, again for both giving and receiving.
Bonus: Show us your Movember moustache. Post a photo.
Sorry, no bonus from us this time!
How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!
Monday, November 19, 2012
He got off to my laugh
It was late. I was tired. He wanted to get off and I wanted to help without reciprocity.
He laid back on his pillow, completely bare. Just the light of bedside lamp shown over his naked body. I looked over his naked body. His right hand moved toward his limp cock, and his fingers curled around it. He started to jack it off, slowly, watching me. I was sitting naked beside him near his waist, looking down at him.
His eyes moved up and down my body, spending extra time looking at my nipples. I shifted my legs and placed a bare foot on his face, heel resting on his chest. His free hand immediately moved up to gently hold my foot against him. His head moved to cuddle his cheek against the sole of my foot. His lips lightly kissed the arch of my foot.
I leaned back and watched. Watched him love my foot, my dirty foot. The foot I'd worn in shoes and socks all day and not showered before I'd gotten into bed. My smelly, dirty foot. He sniffed it, and moaned. His cock stiffened with each kiss and sniff.
Tentatively, he licked me. First a light lick, then a full lick up my arch to my toes. I giggled.
His eyes opened and he looked at me. He licked me lightly and watched as I struggled and giggled. "Yes, laugh, laugh for me," he begged. "I want to hear you laugh."
Now I knew he loved to hear my laugh, but.... laugh while he's jerking off? I consented to let him tickle me.
He gently swept his tongue across the ball of my foot and a giggle escaped my mouth. He audibly moaned when he heard it. He licked some more and I let the giggles escape unrestrained. A few teeth scraped against my sensitive skin and I barely managed to keep my leg from kicking him, but my reaction was more laugh than giggle. "More, laugh more!" he ordered me.
"I can't just laugh on command...!"
His hand stopped caressing the top of my foot and instead tickled the bottom of my foot. Now I laughed louder and it turned him on. Each laugh made him moan. Occasionally he would bite his lip and arch his body. He became more aggressive and tickled more of my foot, giving me fewer rests. My laughs became raucous and I fell backward on the bed, letting my body just react with laughter at his fingers playing on my foot.
He ran fingers up and down my foot, fingernails lightly touching me. It felt so good to laugh, just relax and laugh unrestrained, but what I loved more was hearing him get excited over the sound of my laughter. His moans and sighs were so constant and tied to my laughs. Each laugh and burst of sound aroused him more.
His tongue tickled me in between my toes while his fingers ticked my arch. I was out of breath from laughing when he came, hard. He tickled me through his orgasm, taking final licks and sniffs of my foot, holding it to his face with the firmest grip.
I panted, laying against the side of his body. We shared a smile, and I wondered at what just happened. I'm not sure I ever felt so valued and sexy -- I knew he loved my body and my mind. Both have made him get off, but my laugh? I had no idea that turned him on like that.
And once again, another first for our relationship, and another reason why he makes me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
He laid back on his pillow, completely bare. Just the light of bedside lamp shown over his naked body. I looked over his naked body. His right hand moved toward his limp cock, and his fingers curled around it. He started to jack it off, slowly, watching me. I was sitting naked beside him near his waist, looking down at him.
His eyes moved up and down my body, spending extra time looking at my nipples. I shifted my legs and placed a bare foot on his face, heel resting on his chest. His free hand immediately moved up to gently hold my foot against him. His head moved to cuddle his cheek against the sole of my foot. His lips lightly kissed the arch of my foot.
I leaned back and watched. Watched him love my foot, my dirty foot. The foot I'd worn in shoes and socks all day and not showered before I'd gotten into bed. My smelly, dirty foot. He sniffed it, and moaned. His cock stiffened with each kiss and sniff.
Tentatively, he licked me. First a light lick, then a full lick up my arch to my toes. I giggled.
His eyes opened and he looked at me. He licked me lightly and watched as I struggled and giggled. "Yes, laugh, laugh for me," he begged. "I want to hear you laugh."
Now I knew he loved to hear my laugh, but.... laugh while he's jerking off? I consented to let him tickle me.
He gently swept his tongue across the ball of my foot and a giggle escaped my mouth. He audibly moaned when he heard it. He licked some more and I let the giggles escape unrestrained. A few teeth scraped against my sensitive skin and I barely managed to keep my leg from kicking him, but my reaction was more laugh than giggle. "More, laugh more!" he ordered me.
"I can't just laugh on command...!"
His hand stopped caressing the top of my foot and instead tickled the bottom of my foot. Now I laughed louder and it turned him on. Each laugh made him moan. Occasionally he would bite his lip and arch his body. He became more aggressive and tickled more of my foot, giving me fewer rests. My laughs became raucous and I fell backward on the bed, letting my body just react with laughter at his fingers playing on my foot.
He ran fingers up and down my foot, fingernails lightly touching me. It felt so good to laugh, just relax and laugh unrestrained, but what I loved more was hearing him get excited over the sound of my laughter. His moans and sighs were so constant and tied to my laughs. Each laugh and burst of sound aroused him more.
His tongue tickled me in between my toes while his fingers ticked my arch. I was out of breath from laughing when he came, hard. He tickled me through his orgasm, taking final licks and sniffs of my foot, holding it to his face with the firmest grip.
I panted, laying against the side of his body. We shared a smile, and I wondered at what just happened. I'm not sure I ever felt so valued and sexy -- I knew he loved my body and my mind. Both have made him get off, but my laugh? I had no idea that turned him on like that.
And once again, another first for our relationship, and another reason why he makes me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
TMI Tuesday: Movember
Hello my fellow TMI Tuesday junkies. Movember is in full-swing. I
can’t wait to see those Mo’s a little later in the month. In the
meantime here is a set of VERY fine TMI Tuesday questions from longtime
blogger and frequent TMI Tuesday question contributor virtualsin.wordpress.com
If you don’t know what Movember is all about see previous TMI Tuesday posts or click here.
Some men who have been treated for Prostate Cancer are unable to get an erection.
1. If they were treated with surgery, the usual reason is nerve damage. They may have success with a penis pump. Question: Have you (or your partner) ever used a pump? Did it work? Was it a turn-on or a turn-off?
We have not used a penis pump, but it is probably #2 or #3 on our list of "next toys to buy." We've both been curious (BF more so, I think) on the fun we could have with it. He really wants to see his penis grow, become larger, and then probably fuck me with it and call me a slut. You know, the usual for our sex life. :) So, definitely a turn on. (Plus, have you seen some of the images of nipples and clits being pumped? HOT).
2. If they were treated with radiation, the usual reason is damage to blood vessels. They may have good luck with Viagra or or one of the other impotence meds. Question: Have you (or your partner) ever used Viagra, Cialis, or similar? Did it work? Any interesting side effects? Any 4-hour erections? Tell us how you made use of that
No, we haven't. Neither of us is a fan of using drugs outside of prescribed use, so we wouldn't just going using. the BF has NO problem getting erections now, so I'm sure we would end up in the ER asking for help when its still there hours and hour later and I'm begging for him to stop and let me be.
3. Some men may opt for a penile implant. See http://www.urologicalcare.com/advanced-ed-treatments/types-penile-implants/. Do you have experience with a penile implant (as owner or lover-of-owner)? Did it work for you?
No, no experience here... I'm not sure what I think of these. I'm not sure my BF would want one unless we had exhausted every other option out there. He's not a fan of the idea of surgery in or on his penis.
4. If they were treated with hormone therapy (e.g. Lupron Depot), they may also lose all libido. I can’t think of a good question, but if you have a story, please share.
I have no story, but I have a comment. My boyfriend is always horny. Always. His day starts and ends with an orgasm and frequently includes one in between. I can't imagine him without libido and I think if he lost it, he would feel very lost and quite depressed about it. I think he would feel like he lost part of his masculinity with having so much desire to none. This is one of life's unpleasant hurdles that, as his life partner, I would hope I could support him through it and be the friend he needed without adding to any guilty, sad, or unhappy feelings.
5. Some men diagnosed with Prostate Cancer change their diet or avoid certain foods. Did you ever change your diet for health reasons? How did it work out? How long did you stay on the diet?
I have on several occasions. During my senior year of high school, I went vegetarian for a full year. It wasn't too difficult, until Thanksgiving came around. The turkey ruined me, I couldn't resist it. Since then, however, I've been pretty much unable to eat steak and sometimes even hamburger. Walking through the meat department occasionally makes me dry-heave because I can smell the blood and raw meat. I've also gone a full month without cheese and it was incredibly difficult. Cheese goes on everything and there just isn't a great substitute out there. I was so happy to let cheese back in my life.
On a side note, due to my personal religious convictions, I don't eat shellfish or pork. I've never had shrimp, crab, or lobster (nor have any interest in it - they smell awful) and I've had pork by mistake a couple of times. My boyfriend eats both, so occasionally we don't share dinners/dishes. I also eat tofu which he does not.
6. The prostate is a sexual organ, and treatment of the prostate changes the sexual experience. A man who has had his prostate removed does not ejaculate at orgasm. How would you react to a total lack of cum?
For me, its not a big deal. My big love of cum is that I love seeing a physical representation of orgasm -- aside from his body. I can't always read his body correctly, so somethings I need or rely on that visual cue that he is/is not experiencing orgasm. For him, it would be terrible. The sight of cum pouring from a cock is one of the things he loves most about having a penis or watching a penis in porn.
7. Although removal of the prostate reduces the intensity of orgasm in the pelvic region, some men report orgasmic feelings in other parts of the body, some describing a “whole body orgasm.” How cool is that?
Very, very cool! I wonder if it allows sensations to be felt when otherwise they could not, or if the body changes its perception of orgasm? Either way, it sounds like a win for him.
8. Do you think a man treated for Prostate Cancer deserves a blow job? If yes, please email Virtual Sin aka SinnerMan…
Well, I don't know... does he take blow jobs from other men? Cause my boyfriend would love to be first in line for that...
How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!
If you don’t know what Movember is all about see previous TMI Tuesday posts or click here.
Some men who have been treated for Prostate Cancer are unable to get an erection.
1. If they were treated with surgery, the usual reason is nerve damage. They may have success with a penis pump. Question: Have you (or your partner) ever used a pump? Did it work? Was it a turn-on or a turn-off?
We have not used a penis pump, but it is probably #2 or #3 on our list of "next toys to buy." We've both been curious (BF more so, I think) on the fun we could have with it. He really wants to see his penis grow, become larger, and then probably fuck me with it and call me a slut. You know, the usual for our sex life. :) So, definitely a turn on. (Plus, have you seen some of the images of nipples and clits being pumped? HOT).
2. If they were treated with radiation, the usual reason is damage to blood vessels. They may have good luck with Viagra or or one of the other impotence meds. Question: Have you (or your partner) ever used Viagra, Cialis, or similar? Did it work? Any interesting side effects? Any 4-hour erections? Tell us how you made use of that
No, we haven't. Neither of us is a fan of using drugs outside of prescribed use, so we wouldn't just going using. the BF has NO problem getting erections now, so I'm sure we would end up in the ER asking for help when its still there hours and hour later and I'm begging for him to stop and let me be.
3. Some men may opt for a penile implant. See http://www.urologicalcare.com/advanced-ed-treatments/types-penile-implants/. Do you have experience with a penile implant (as owner or lover-of-owner)? Did it work for you?
No, no experience here... I'm not sure what I think of these. I'm not sure my BF would want one unless we had exhausted every other option out there. He's not a fan of the idea of surgery in or on his penis.
4. If they were treated with hormone therapy (e.g. Lupron Depot), they may also lose all libido. I can’t think of a good question, but if you have a story, please share.
I have no story, but I have a comment. My boyfriend is always horny. Always. His day starts and ends with an orgasm and frequently includes one in between. I can't imagine him without libido and I think if he lost it, he would feel very lost and quite depressed about it. I think he would feel like he lost part of his masculinity with having so much desire to none. This is one of life's unpleasant hurdles that, as his life partner, I would hope I could support him through it and be the friend he needed without adding to any guilty, sad, or unhappy feelings.
5. Some men diagnosed with Prostate Cancer change their diet or avoid certain foods. Did you ever change your diet for health reasons? How did it work out? How long did you stay on the diet?
I have on several occasions. During my senior year of high school, I went vegetarian for a full year. It wasn't too difficult, until Thanksgiving came around. The turkey ruined me, I couldn't resist it. Since then, however, I've been pretty much unable to eat steak and sometimes even hamburger. Walking through the meat department occasionally makes me dry-heave because I can smell the blood and raw meat. I've also gone a full month without cheese and it was incredibly difficult. Cheese goes on everything and there just isn't a great substitute out there. I was so happy to let cheese back in my life.
On a side note, due to my personal religious convictions, I don't eat shellfish or pork. I've never had shrimp, crab, or lobster (nor have any interest in it - they smell awful) and I've had pork by mistake a couple of times. My boyfriend eats both, so occasionally we don't share dinners/dishes. I also eat tofu which he does not.
6. The prostate is a sexual organ, and treatment of the prostate changes the sexual experience. A man who has had his prostate removed does not ejaculate at orgasm. How would you react to a total lack of cum?
For me, its not a big deal. My big love of cum is that I love seeing a physical representation of orgasm -- aside from his body. I can't always read his body correctly, so somethings I need or rely on that visual cue that he is/is not experiencing orgasm. For him, it would be terrible. The sight of cum pouring from a cock is one of the things he loves most about having a penis or watching a penis in porn.
7. Although removal of the prostate reduces the intensity of orgasm in the pelvic region, some men report orgasmic feelings in other parts of the body, some describing a “whole body orgasm.” How cool is that?
Very, very cool! I wonder if it allows sensations to be felt when otherwise they could not, or if the body changes its perception of orgasm? Either way, it sounds like a win for him.
8. Do you think a man treated for Prostate Cancer deserves a blow job? If yes, please email Virtual Sin aka SinnerMan…
Well, I don't know... does he take blow jobs from other men? Cause my boyfriend would love to be first in line for that...
How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!
Monday, November 12, 2012
Early Morning Booty Call (literally)
Loud, obnoxious jazz music jolted me awake. Actually I was already awake, but the music made me go from very sleepy to wide awake. I had known it was early and now that my boyfriend's 5am alarm was going off, I knew just how early it was -- on a Saturday.
He snoozed the alarm and rolled over to cuddle me. His body was so hot to the touch. How could he sleep under the quilt and be comfortable? I threw off my covers and then cuddled into his big spoon. His arm wrapped around me and settled just under a breast. He moaned contentedly and kissed my shoulder, nuzzling me with his nose and lips.
My brain was so awake from that sudden music, but my body was still asleep and relaxed. Heat from his body warmed me. I noticed that he had no boner, unlike the ones I normally feel when he spoons me first thing in the morning. The alarm must have thrown his body off.We laid there together, little sighs and swallowed moans of early morning happiness as our communication back and forth.
Then the music went off again. He flipped over to turn it off, and I complained of the noise - it was louder this time. He turned it off and continued to just lay in bed. I turned over, laid my head on his chest, and asked if he was going to get up now. He laughed at my contradiction - asking if he were about it get up, but laying on his chest as if to hold him there. Guilty as charged.
He said he would jack off first and then get up. I snuggled in to him, wrapping a hand around his inner thigh and laying my head so he could tuck it under his chin as we normally do when I'm not participating or expecting an orgasm in return. This time I planned on just resting and enjoying it while he did all the work. It was too early for me to do anything else.
Not a minute later, he whispered to me, "I wish I could lick your booty hole." I perked my head up.
"Oh you do?"
"Yes," he breathed. "I wanna lick it."
"It's clean, you can if you want to." I had showered before going to bed. I pulled myself away from his body and crawled up, kneeling 'face down, ass up' on my own pillow so he could find my ass in the dark.
He got up, and knelt behind me. Still jerking off, his fingers of his left hand glided across my skin as he felt his way in the dark. Such a light touch despite his obvious lust. Finger were replaced by lips as he landed soft kisses that swept from one side of my ass to the other, avoiding the cleft in the middle.
I wondered if being in pitch black was making him act slower, or if he was just trying to find his way. Then a finger slide in my crack and expertly located my anus. He wasn't "lost" in the dark, he was just taking his time and slowly approaching the inevitable.
The finger circled around my hole before lightly pressing on it. My body tense, and then a tongue was suddenly replacing the finger and my body jolted in surprise and excitement. Oh, I love it when he rims me. The first lick was small and light, like a test run. He felt my body respond and heard the moan escape my lips. I was his.
He pressed his face into my ass crack and tongue swept across my booty hole. He made circles and sweeping movements. His mouth explored me expertly. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the pleasure.
Normally I hear the sounds of his hand on his penis and his soft moans. We always have lights on during sex so we can see one another. But in the dark, facing away from him, with a fan running in the room, all I could detect of him was the tongue licking my asshole. It was strange, being so cut off from him and yet so intimately connected. My moans were loud and I knew he would hear me. I had no idea until my first rim job that I could get off just from him licking my asshole.
Suddenly I felt his tongue probe me, entering my asshole. My hips rocked in pleasure and I felt my anus contract around the tip that was in me, moan turning into soft scream. He pulled out and repeated this, my hips bucking more and I felt the orgasm draw close.
He pushed more tongue into me and was pulling out when I came, aware of the spasms I was making around him. He could feel every contraction of my pleasure around his tongue. He licked me and probed me through my orgasm and continued with the same fervor once my moans diminished a bit. I was lost in post-orgasmic bliss, hugging my pillow beneath me, and I heard his final grunts of orgasm break through that invisible sound barrier between us.
He collapsed for a moment on the bed and accused me of being naughty for talking him into such a filthy act so early in the day. I giggled and teased him for being so easy to convince.
He snoozed the alarm and rolled over to cuddle me. His body was so hot to the touch. How could he sleep under the quilt and be comfortable? I threw off my covers and then cuddled into his big spoon. His arm wrapped around me and settled just under a breast. He moaned contentedly and kissed my shoulder, nuzzling me with his nose and lips.
My brain was so awake from that sudden music, but my body was still asleep and relaxed. Heat from his body warmed me. I noticed that he had no boner, unlike the ones I normally feel when he spoons me first thing in the morning. The alarm must have thrown his body off.We laid there together, little sighs and swallowed moans of early morning happiness as our communication back and forth.
Then the music went off again. He flipped over to turn it off, and I complained of the noise - it was louder this time. He turned it off and continued to just lay in bed. I turned over, laid my head on his chest, and asked if he was going to get up now. He laughed at my contradiction - asking if he were about it get up, but laying on his chest as if to hold him there. Guilty as charged.
He said he would jack off first and then get up. I snuggled in to him, wrapping a hand around his inner thigh and laying my head so he could tuck it under his chin as we normally do when I'm not participating or expecting an orgasm in return. This time I planned on just resting and enjoying it while he did all the work. It was too early for me to do anything else.
Not a minute later, he whispered to me, "I wish I could lick your booty hole." I perked my head up.
"Oh you do?"
"Yes," he breathed. "I wanna lick it."
"It's clean, you can if you want to." I had showered before going to bed. I pulled myself away from his body and crawled up, kneeling 'face down, ass up' on my own pillow so he could find my ass in the dark.
He got up, and knelt behind me. Still jerking off, his fingers of his left hand glided across my skin as he felt his way in the dark. Such a light touch despite his obvious lust. Finger were replaced by lips as he landed soft kisses that swept from one side of my ass to the other, avoiding the cleft in the middle.
I wondered if being in pitch black was making him act slower, or if he was just trying to find his way. Then a finger slide in my crack and expertly located my anus. He wasn't "lost" in the dark, he was just taking his time and slowly approaching the inevitable.
The finger circled around my hole before lightly pressing on it. My body tense, and then a tongue was suddenly replacing the finger and my body jolted in surprise and excitement. Oh, I love it when he rims me. The first lick was small and light, like a test run. He felt my body respond and heard the moan escape my lips. I was his.
He pressed his face into my ass crack and tongue swept across my booty hole. He made circles and sweeping movements. His mouth explored me expertly. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the pleasure.
Normally I hear the sounds of his hand on his penis and his soft moans. We always have lights on during sex so we can see one another. But in the dark, facing away from him, with a fan running in the room, all I could detect of him was the tongue licking my asshole. It was strange, being so cut off from him and yet so intimately connected. My moans were loud and I knew he would hear me. I had no idea until my first rim job that I could get off just from him licking my asshole.
Suddenly I felt his tongue probe me, entering my asshole. My hips rocked in pleasure and I felt my anus contract around the tip that was in me, moan turning into soft scream. He pulled out and repeated this, my hips bucking more and I felt the orgasm draw close.
He pushed more tongue into me and was pulling out when I came, aware of the spasms I was making around him. He could feel every contraction of my pleasure around his tongue. He licked me and probed me through my orgasm and continued with the same fervor once my moans diminished a bit. I was lost in post-orgasmic bliss, hugging my pillow beneath me, and I heard his final grunts of orgasm break through that invisible sound barrier between us.
He collapsed for a moment on the bed and accused me of being naughty for talking him into such a filthy act so early in the day. I giggled and teased him for being so easy to convince.
Thursday, November 8, 2012
Flashes of our life
There are so many moments of my life I wish I could capture in a snapshot or film. I'd rather have a picture of these moments, to remember the memories rather than relive them through a video.
But these moments are all so unique and special to me. Sixteen months has done nothing to diminish my joy in being with someone I can count as a partner, best friend, and lover. So many beautiful moments and I feel so many slip by, wanting to remember them.
I can see the expression on his face when I make him laugh. I tease him and his smile is so wide and beautiful. He's so quiet around people, but with me his laugh is raucous and loud. He laughs with his full body. Sometimes I even make him laugh so hard he just collapses on the ground, unable to talk. It makes me laugh to see him so exuberant and honest with his amusement. I'm really not so funny, but he finds me hilarious. I love that.
Then there are the moments that, after an argument, he lays his head on my chest and his voices changes to the most tender sound. No matter what we were discussing, these moments are the ones where all anger is gone, but we just open up. The tone of his voice, so sweet and genuine, softened and sweet. It makes me melt hearing him with no barriers.
The moments where he calls me a slut and whore. Where he tells me to take it. Where he owns my body, the most intimate parts of me.
The moment today where he told me he masturbated, thinking about our wedding day. He envisioned me in a white dress. As he came, he yelled 'I do.' I never knew the idea of marriage and a wedding could be so alluring, sexy, and a complete turn-on for a man. To have someone so interested in marrying me that it gets them off - the fantasy just wanting, waiting to become reality. When I asked him "Was there a veil?" and he said "There usually is." So I said, "Usually?" He said, "I've said too much." Then he got all bashful and wouldn't say anymore.
Moments where I lay on his chest and watch him jack off. Hearing him moan as he rests his head against mine. He wants me a part of those moments and I love just to be present and share in this intimacy.
Those times when he calls me "Naughty!" in the most adorable way EVER when I tell him about my latest masturbation that he wasn't around to see or hear.
When he literally prances around in pink lacey panties and starts to act girly, he gets giggly and cute. And I love him for it.
Since I wrote my prior post, Reflections, discussing how I needed some changes in my life - some self-management and stress management, I've been making an effort to focus on what's really important vs what I've made or impose on myself to be important. It's not easy and I must remember that change comes slowly. One thing I've tried to make a priority is focusing on what I'm missing by being too stressed out or what I may even take for granted.
For now, I'm focusing on love.
But these moments are all so unique and special to me. Sixteen months has done nothing to diminish my joy in being with someone I can count as a partner, best friend, and lover. So many beautiful moments and I feel so many slip by, wanting to remember them.
I can see the expression on his face when I make him laugh. I tease him and his smile is so wide and beautiful. He's so quiet around people, but with me his laugh is raucous and loud. He laughs with his full body. Sometimes I even make him laugh so hard he just collapses on the ground, unable to talk. It makes me laugh to see him so exuberant and honest with his amusement. I'm really not so funny, but he finds me hilarious. I love that.
Then there are the moments that, after an argument, he lays his head on my chest and his voices changes to the most tender sound. No matter what we were discussing, these moments are the ones where all anger is gone, but we just open up. The tone of his voice, so sweet and genuine, softened and sweet. It makes me melt hearing him with no barriers.
The moments where he calls me a slut and whore. Where he tells me to take it. Where he owns my body, the most intimate parts of me.
The moment today where he told me he masturbated, thinking about our wedding day. He envisioned me in a white dress. As he came, he yelled 'I do.' I never knew the idea of marriage and a wedding could be so alluring, sexy, and a complete turn-on for a man. To have someone so interested in marrying me that it gets them off - the fantasy just wanting, waiting to become reality. When I asked him "Was there a veil?" and he said "There usually is." So I said, "Usually?" He said, "I've said too much." Then he got all bashful and wouldn't say anymore.
Moments where I lay on his chest and watch him jack off. Hearing him moan as he rests his head against mine. He wants me a part of those moments and I love just to be present and share in this intimacy.
Those times when he calls me "Naughty!" in the most adorable way EVER when I tell him about my latest masturbation that he wasn't around to see or hear.
When he literally prances around in pink lacey panties and starts to act girly, he gets giggly and cute. And I love him for it.
Since I wrote my prior post, Reflections, discussing how I needed some changes in my life - some self-management and stress management, I've been making an effort to focus on what's really important vs what I've made or impose on myself to be important. It's not easy and I must remember that change comes slowly. One thing I've tried to make a priority is focusing on what I'm missing by being too stressed out or what I may even take for granted.
For now, I'm focusing on love.
Thursday, November 1, 2012
Reflections
If you were following me on twitter this week, you saw the emotional rollercoaster I was on. Tuesday was a very low point for me, perhaps the lowest I've been since my divorce. I was coming up to a very important work deadline (that happened today) and at the crisis point of "It's not going to happen!"
I knew October would be busy, but the exact number of "top priority" assignments that happened turned into way too many twelve and fourteen hour days, weekend hours, high stress levels, and very little acknowledgement of just how hard I worked to make it all possible. My boss has said repeatedly he believes in having 5 "number 1 priority" assignments and being able to handle it - its part of how he manages. Well, that culminated to Tuesday, partially.
What else happened Tuesday, because I kept it off twitter, was the BF and I were having an argument. A really, really bad one. I was at work, so it all happened in angry texts (never EVER smart) and things were said out of anger and not clarified for hours.
Even in my crappy marriage, I've never fought quite like this. To some that might be surprising, but I think, when you are really in it, it means more to you and you're willing to fight harder for it.
The text that refocused me was this one:
I am sick of your job spilling over and I pay for it with you being crabby with me.
Ouch. I completely deserved that. My mentor frequently tells me that I need to get a handle on my stress. I need to learn to deal with it in a healthy way.
The thing is, I have almost zero healthy ways of dealing with stress. All I do is internalize it until I explode, like I did Tuesday night, into a pile of tears. And wait for it to happen again. It eats at me. I blame myself. I miss sleep. I skip meals. I stop worrying about my appearance. I'm way to focused on "making it better" when all I do is run around like a mad woman, not realizing I'm the problem, not the rest of the world.
For years I've struggled with "boundaries" on what is in my control vs what I think is in my control. Growing up, you just didn't make mistakes. Every mistake was considered "on purpose" and was therefore punishable. It didn't matter if you forgot or simply didn't know. You should have remembered or been smart enough to figure it out. In a way, it turned my sister and I into over-achieving machines. We both had straight A's until college where, if we got a B or B+, we cried over every test and quiz result. I have few fun stories from college because I spent so many hours studying and doing homework and working. I double majored in two degrees with ZERO overlapping credits while working part time and still managed to graduate in four years with a 3.89 GPA.
My career has been no different. If I'm not promoted at least every 18 months, I feel there's something wrong. If I'm not meeting every deadline and exceeding every expectation, there's something wrong.
That's not a bad goal to have, is it? My parents certainly don't think so. But then again, let's review my personal life. I don't exercise. I barely sleep well. I have frequent neck/head aches. I take stress home and turn on those closest to me. My life is backwards!
Tuesday night, he apologized. Then I apologized. And then I admitted something that is so hard to say: I need help. I don't know how to ask for it most of the time, but I'm going to try. I'm going to be vulnerable to him. I'm going to admit I can't do it all and I'm going to try and be open about how bad I am feeling right now.
Like the amazing, incredible man he is, he just held me and said OK. He helped me find words I needed to say, mostly by repeating, "Tell me. Just say it."
Tuesday night, I remembered to tell myself that: I'm human. Dropping the ball and not juggling all top 5 or 8 priorities is not a requirement. I will be OK.
Wednesday I approached work with a "Let's see how it goes and if its late, oh well" approach. Amazingly, more came together that day than the prior days. Accepting my limits helped me be a more stable and capable worker.
After being fingered to orgasm three times then fucked for at least 10 minutes with legs in all sorts of positions, I feel asleep reflecting on how giving up my insane need to juggle it all actually made me happy and productive. I realized what I needed: more self-acceptance and I needed to make time for myself.
Then I remembered what Kendra Holliday tweeted earlier about Maslow's hierarchy of needs: Your goal should be to reach the tip! The only way to do that is be authentic & think for yourself. Ditch the shame!
Fuck. In Maslow's hierarchy, I was living in "Safety" and flirting with Love/Belonging. At work I had Esteem, but I was nowhere near close to the top. I needed more.
I have a spare room that contains rubbermaid bins and an exercise bike. A dusty, exercise bike. Also, a yoga mat I've never used. The walls are all white. I never go in there. But what if I cleared out the bins and bought some paint? What if I bought a giant pillow for sitting on while I do some calming meditation? What if I painted half the room day and the other half night in a beautiful outdoor setting? What if the theme and purpose of that room was: peace. self-awareness. self-love.
What if I actually made myself a priority and put myself ahead of work -- only to discover what others have told me will happen -- so I can be truly successful as myself in all aspects of life?
I'm going to give it a try.
I knew October would be busy, but the exact number of "top priority" assignments that happened turned into way too many twelve and fourteen hour days, weekend hours, high stress levels, and very little acknowledgement of just how hard I worked to make it all possible. My boss has said repeatedly he believes in having 5 "number 1 priority" assignments and being able to handle it - its part of how he manages. Well, that culminated to Tuesday, partially.
What else happened Tuesday, because I kept it off twitter, was the BF and I were having an argument. A really, really bad one. I was at work, so it all happened in angry texts (never EVER smart) and things were said out of anger and not clarified for hours.
Even in my crappy marriage, I've never fought quite like this. To some that might be surprising, but I think, when you are really in it, it means more to you and you're willing to fight harder for it.
The text that refocused me was this one:
I am sick of your job spilling over and I pay for it with you being crabby with me.
Ouch. I completely deserved that. My mentor frequently tells me that I need to get a handle on my stress. I need to learn to deal with it in a healthy way.
The thing is, I have almost zero healthy ways of dealing with stress. All I do is internalize it until I explode, like I did Tuesday night, into a pile of tears. And wait for it to happen again. It eats at me. I blame myself. I miss sleep. I skip meals. I stop worrying about my appearance. I'm way to focused on "making it better" when all I do is run around like a mad woman, not realizing I'm the problem, not the rest of the world.
For years I've struggled with "boundaries" on what is in my control vs what I think is in my control. Growing up, you just didn't make mistakes. Every mistake was considered "on purpose" and was therefore punishable. It didn't matter if you forgot or simply didn't know. You should have remembered or been smart enough to figure it out. In a way, it turned my sister and I into over-achieving machines. We both had straight A's until college where, if we got a B or B+, we cried over every test and quiz result. I have few fun stories from college because I spent so many hours studying and doing homework and working. I double majored in two degrees with ZERO overlapping credits while working part time and still managed to graduate in four years with a 3.89 GPA.
My career has been no different. If I'm not promoted at least every 18 months, I feel there's something wrong. If I'm not meeting every deadline and exceeding every expectation, there's something wrong.
That's not a bad goal to have, is it? My parents certainly don't think so. But then again, let's review my personal life. I don't exercise. I barely sleep well. I have frequent neck/head aches. I take stress home and turn on those closest to me. My life is backwards!
Tuesday night, he apologized. Then I apologized. And then I admitted something that is so hard to say: I need help. I don't know how to ask for it most of the time, but I'm going to try. I'm going to be vulnerable to him. I'm going to admit I can't do it all and I'm going to try and be open about how bad I am feeling right now.
Like the amazing, incredible man he is, he just held me and said OK. He helped me find words I needed to say, mostly by repeating, "Tell me. Just say it."
Tuesday night, I remembered to tell myself that: I'm human. Dropping the ball and not juggling all top 5 or 8 priorities is not a requirement. I will be OK.
Wednesday I approached work with a "Let's see how it goes and if its late, oh well" approach. Amazingly, more came together that day than the prior days. Accepting my limits helped me be a more stable and capable worker.
After being fingered to orgasm three times then fucked for at least 10 minutes with legs in all sorts of positions, I feel asleep reflecting on how giving up my insane need to juggle it all actually made me happy and productive. I realized what I needed: more self-acceptance and I needed to make time for myself.
 |
| Source: Wikimedia Commons |
Then I remembered what Kendra Holliday tweeted earlier about Maslow's hierarchy of needs: Your goal should be to reach the tip! The only way to do that is be authentic & think for yourself. Ditch the shame!
Fuck. In Maslow's hierarchy, I was living in "Safety" and flirting with Love/Belonging. At work I had Esteem, but I was nowhere near close to the top. I needed more.
I have a spare room that contains rubbermaid bins and an exercise bike. A dusty, exercise bike. Also, a yoga mat I've never used. The walls are all white. I never go in there. But what if I cleared out the bins and bought some paint? What if I bought a giant pillow for sitting on while I do some calming meditation? What if I painted half the room day and the other half night in a beautiful outdoor setting? What if the theme and purpose of that room was: peace. self-awareness. self-love.
What if I actually made myself a priority and put myself ahead of work -- only to discover what others have told me will happen -- so I can be truly successful as myself in all aspects of life?
I'm going to give it a try.
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