Friday, January 30, 2015

The Memories Which Have Forgotten Me

I watch as the sands of time slip through my hands
like the grains of memories 
and the voices of those long gone
losing all rhythm and rhyme
to reason and time.

Keep one eye on the monsters under my bed
an ear out for the voices in my head
open the closet doors
to release the skeletons under my floors.

Whispered on the winds
the quiet call of long forgotten sins
the quiet rustle of snakes in the grass
like the sands of time slipping through an hour glass
hidden in the creaking of an old wooden floor
behind old iron doors
locked away in the maze of memories
who we are and who we were meant to be.

In the waves of a distant sea
watching the world around me
what I was and all of the things I have forgotten to be
I remember the question long since phrased to me,
when they look at you
what will the world see?

So I keep one eye on the monsters under my bed
an ear out for the voices in my head
the quiet whispers of my dead.
I open the closet doors
to release the skeletons under my floors
slipping into the memories which have forgotten me
like the sands of time trickling their way slowly through my mind.

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Advice, Ideas, Thoughts, A Good Kick in the Shins?

Here's the thing...I meet with teachers, principal, and counselor tomorrow to convince them my kid is ahead and they should work with him.

But...His grades are not looking bright. If anything, they're floating on the bottom edge of average. He bombed a 3 addends test this week, which just boggles my mind because he can do those just fine, and learned how to ages ago.

I have never seen grades this bad out of him. And I truly do believe that it's not because I had a lax grading system--I always gave letter grades (here it's basically pass or don't pass through 3rd grade, but I can see his percentages), and he always did really well! I've never given out a free grade in my life, and my eldest is towards the top of his class, completely convinced that public school is wayyyy easier.


So...They're going to think I'm full of shit, right? If I didn't know him, and I looked at his grades, I would say that he was damn near special ed special. *Sigh*

Do I have any chance of convincing these people that I'm not just one of those bat-shit-crazy mothers with average kids who just thinks they're bright when they're really actually...Slow?

Any and all advice will be considered and greatly appreciated!

Monday, January 26, 2015

Dominanant Responsibilities

 This post was suggested some time ago (like, aeons), but I'm a bit slow on the uptake sometimes so, yea...

A while back, there was an interesting conversation over at Under His Hand on the subject of dominant responsibilities. I'm too lazy to go by and dig it up, but if you're not, it was rather interesting.

Alright, as a dominant, he's got a shitload of responsibilities, right? I think that the issues start when we begin attempting to define those responsibilities. I mean, we all have them--kids, work, critters, family, the list goes on.

When it comes to dominance, I'm betting that you'll get a different answer from everyone you ask. Sure, I do have expectations, ideas of what I feel he should be responsible before, but technically, those feelings don't mean it is so.

His responsibilities are the ones he chooses to have. Realistically, if we want ttwd to work for us as a couple, and if he desires my willing submission, he will assume responsibilities which are conducive to such.

I think that a dominant's responsibilities are the ones he defines. As a submissive, you can either get along with it, or hit the road. Theoretically. If you're capable of walking away.

In my mind, Alpha has many responsibilities:
Not to harm me
to always keep the well-being of myself and the family in the forefront of his mind
to provide for our needs
to listen
These are responsibilities which he himself has defined.

Ultimately, I suppose that my answer to this question is that a Dominant is responsible for keeping his word. When we take away all the details, all the ideas, all the concepts of avoiding harm and acting in a manner which is conducive to the health and well-being of the people under their control, a dominant is merely responsible for keeping his word. That can encompass a whole lot, or very little.

From where I'm standing in relation to exchange of power in a D/s relationship, the answer to this question could easily come down to expectations--what I expect from him. And expectations, they're such a killer from this side of the slash. Submissive expectations in an established relationship cannot be used to define the dominance one receives.

I expect him to keep his word, and while that keeping might encompass a whole hell of a lot of other things, his word is the bottom line--the foundation all that other stuff must rest upon.
Of course, he has also reserved the right to change his mind whenever he damn well pleases. And sometimes, that one really sucks...

Saturday, January 24, 2015

Needing the Need

The knife slides its way down treacherous body, slowly tracing lines like marks in the sand to be washed away by the glory of insatiable waves.

"You know you need it" he whispers as he leans over me.

I shake my head in disagreement fighting to hold on to what little shreds of sanity I have left. Even as my traitorous body betrays me, arching towards the sharp.

Why is it always the sharpest edges which have the greatest pull, the darkest ideas that shine the brightest in the shadows of night, the most dangerous distractions which call the loudest?

As the tears trickle down my face, in unwanted release, he tells me that I need it, and that "Some of us just need to be needed". And I realized something obvious, something basic, something which has been written in neon ink for ages--he needs my need. That's what he gets out of this whole arrangement. Beyond the obvious perks of service, and getting his way when he wants it.

My need feeds his being in some way. It fans the flames of who he is and solidifies the role he sees himself playing in this game of life. Who knew?

His hands, so large for their delicate touch, trace the tears across my cheeks as I finally admit to the lonely--I don't want to be needy and lonely!
"Oh baby, did you really think you wouldn't miss it? You've lived there your whole life. Of course you were going to miss it. 
This. Being mine. Being owned by me. You need it. And I need your need."

Friday, January 23, 2015

Stupid System

I get it now. Why so many kids give up, flail off, and do poorly in school.

It's because the system sucks.

Everybody's always going on about "These kids today" and how
'They're not motivated to make anything of themselves, blah blah blah."

I'm inclined to think that, quite often, it's not their fault. Depending on your geographical location, I suppose, not only is excelling not encouraged, it's damn near impossible.

Two weeks in, and I've already had it with the public school system.

To skip a grade, I'd have to homeschool the little guy for two years because of "age restrictions", then take in the piles of every piece of work he did over those two years to prove that he did it.

If he tests into the 99th percentile, he can go to the gifted program next semester. So basically, he's screwed this semester, and any kid who places into the 90th percentile, but not the 99th, is stuck being taught the lower concepts with the rest of the crowd. It's asking a lot of the little guy, especially given that he is completely unfamiliar with the testing format. That's also a whole lot of pressure for a six year old when he knows it's the difference between being bored to tears and happily challenged!

If you're behind, there's programs galore, and everybody has ideas about how to help you. If you're average your golden--you can roll with the crowd, slide along under the radar with minimum effort, and be considered just peachy. If you're ahead of the curve, but not "Profoundly gifted", you're just screwed. Nobody knows what to do with you, or has time to deal with you.

They're testing him for various things this week and next. Next Friday I meet with his teachers, the principal, and the school counselor to see if they can work with him. You know, to try and do something about my problem child. Since, apparently, it's a problem to be smart. Unless you're a genius, which he is not.

Stupid ass jacked up system.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Miles Upon Miles of Concrete

I have already had enough of these city streets
I want to step outside and scream at these miles upon miles of concrete
all these people so secure in their sleep
and their ideas of what they want people to think they are.
It's a bitter pill to swallow
I have too much time to wallow.

I want to go home
and it's easy to be different when one can choose to be alone
secluded on their own.

I thought that wherever he went would be okay because he was my home
I underestimated the depths to which the mountains were in my bones
what it would feel like when the trees no longer whispered in my ears
and the familiar stars no longer sung their songs in the dark.

I always knew that I didn't quite fit in this world
so I made my home
a place so far away that the stars aren't the same, 
where only the trees know your name
and the ability to survive reminds you that you are alive.
Where who you are is more important than what you have done.

It's lonely here.
Here in these city streets
with these miles upon miles of concrete
where no one knows your name
they just know that you aren't the same.

I don't care about fitting in
yet here I don't fit
and I have never before known
this homesickness which seeps into my bones
from the tiny cracks in my soul.

Over the years, I've spent lots of time alone
but never before have I known such consuming loneliness.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015


I got dressed presentably, trotted down to the school, and presented a solid case for the kiddo in a professional and confidant manner.
Then I went to the grocery store to buy milk,
After putting said milk away, I walked into the bedroom, looked down, and noticed a nice black thong creeping it's way out of my pant leg.

I have never prayed so hard that underwear began falling out of my pants in the grocery store...

I wish...Lol.

Saturday, January 17, 2015

So Maybe I'm Still Bitching

Yes, well...Apparently I'm not done with the whole school rant.
I know that I have comments to reply to (thanks for sticking with me through the silence broken only by bitching, btw--I do appreciate it), I'll play comment catch up later. Promise!

In all fairness, my eldest is thriving. He's at the top of the class, but he's still being challenged and has a teacher who is adapting the work to accelerate him and push the whole class ahead a bit.


My little guy came home and broke my heart last night though. He's six, loves learning, loves doing good on school work, picks concepts up quickly, and is the busiest human being most people have ever met.

Last night he came home, did an entire section of the month's four part math assignment in five minutes, sighed, and told me "I don't like school mom. It's boring and the class isn't for me." I inquired why he felt the class wasn't for him, and his response (in the heartrendingly way that only a little kid can) was, "Because they're not teaching me. They're just teaching the other kids. There's nobody like me in class. They don't know any of it". He was so. Very. Sad.

He's lonely because he's smart and I let him work at his own pace so he's a semester ahead of the curve. I thought that the middle of second grade would be too much for him, but I think I should have just tried to get him tested into it.
He loves learning so much--like the way I love it much. He's too young to lose that. At the moment, he's miserable, lonely, bored, and struggling with the dumbed down skills he skipped months ago because it was easier for him just to do it all the more advanced way that they teach after teaching the stupid shit.

It shocks me that his teachers are refusing to work with him. He feels like he's being punished for being ahead of the class, and I feel like it's completely contrary to the concept of schooling to leave a kid behind because he's doing "too" well. My sil's both have advanced children who's teachers are willing to work with them within the grade and allow them to do more advanced assignments...

I screwed up by not trying to stick him straight into second grade. So I'll talk to the counselor next week, and ask to get him tested into second grade. This whole public school thing? Not something I know anything about, but I assume that they can't refuse to at least give him a test...?
My impression is that the school system in general frowns on grade skipping. But my understanding is that even just getting tested for the gifted program could be four months out. And he's soo miserable--he can't even emotionally relate to the kids in first grade because they're just in different places developmentally. Apparently. Who knew having smart kids could suck so much?
*Sigh* if he was behind, they'd work with him!

I might at some point have something related to D/s...Maybe. Eventually. When the polar ice caps thaw completely...

Friday, January 16, 2015

Insufferable People

In my defense, this is really more of a rant than a whine...

From an educational standpoint, public school already sucks. The little one is bored to tears, and his teachers won't give him more challenging work (he asked for something more challenging that 3+3, and they weren't having any of it).
I know that they have to teach to the most common denominator, and they seem like very nice ladies, but I'll be damned if I watch him fall through the cracks because he's actually ahead of the class and is really only struggling with the concepts that have been dumbed down.

Though that's really a side rant today...Oh yes, I'm full of good things at the moment!

I enjoy a certain amount of humility in a human being. I should probably rephrase that...Well, maybe I really shouldn't, but I'm going to anyways: I hate pompous people who just know they are better than than the entire population of earth.

Seriously, I've met some pretty awful chess parents, but scholastic chess isn't big here. Why does the one parent I've met have to be an insufferable ass? What you have and how long you're willing to blather on about it doesn't make you a better person.

The irony? He's the type of person that looks down on clubs and kids like mine, yet his son, for all his "amazing classes, experience, and overall complete brilliance", is not all that great at the game.

He asked about Alpha's work, and quickly changed the subject because it's complicated, and he didn't understand so he couldn't know it all in the conversation. I suppose that when you already know everything, there's not too much room for anything else...

I think that how a person thinks of themselves says a lot about them. Chances are, if you know with absolute certainty that you are the salt of the earth and far superior to anyone with less education or material means than yourself, you're actually just an asshole with a big paycheck and a couple of bratty kids.

My son lost his first tournament game here, and he misses his tutor and old coach. I told him something along these lines:

And that it's important to never forget where you came from. He has earned his ratings fighting tooth and nail, one slow month at a time, in a club lacking the economic ability to travel to big tournaments. He was one of the best scholastic players in the state, and he conducts himself with appreciable humility. Much like me, albeit to a far lesser extent, he knows what it's like to come from nothing, and he doesn't respect people based merely on how they feel about themselves, or how high they scored on the luck of life's draw.

Here. Right now. In this moment. I want so very fucking badly to just go home.

I miss our club. And standing out there last night, listening to that man go on? I would have given damn near anything to have my son's tutor or old coach standing next to me rolling their eyes in the dark and reminiscing about the amazing ability of mankind to be so lost in their own self-absorption, that their kids will never even have a shot at being good people. Because they don't actually care about good people--they care about being better than other people.

I was good--no random thoughts took an inappropriate stroll out of my mouth...Next week I'll meet the mother. Alpha seems to think that she'll probably be far to good to speak to me. One can always hope right? Because really,

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Nobody Told Me!

Nobody told me that school supplies for two children were going to cost what I've been spending on the textbooks for an entire grade, or apparently, the cost of being a new client at a chiropractor's office.
I feel deeply betrayed by life--everything one could imagine within nearby driving distance with no ability to drive myself, and no way I'm getting into one of those offices anytime soon.

And that my dear friends, concludes the first official whine session of 2015 in lil's crazy corner. There will be coffee and real wine for those who wish to hang around for the next one. Shouldn't be too much of a delay lol.

Friday, January 9, 2015

Last Keywords of 2014

Here's my roundup of somewhat entertaining searches that got people here last year. With, of course, the necessary commentary. It's not quite as entertaining as some have been in the past, but maybe that's just because I've been rather boring...

"BDSM turns me on but I don't want..." Omg, I hate blogger stats--don't want what?? To be bossed around, to be hurt, pigtails (I mean, I certainly don't want pigtails), to submit, what??

"How to make my wife submit to my power." Really dude? Good luck with that one...Let us know how you feel about living in your car!

"Anal dominate with my wife - porn". This one is really only funny because I feel that I owe the poor man an apology, given the the vast discrepancy between what he was looking for, and what he actually got.

"Pee in a cup every morning thing." Whatever, I don't want to talk about it!

"local submissive slave needing a master" Looking for him here, is she...Oh no she didn't! 

"slap face fuck cry" I am absolutely blown away by the eloquence...

"How to be a good submissive" Oh honey...You won't find that here I mean, I wish you could, but...Yea...I'm too much a of a work in progress.

"I am a needy submissive." I would say welcome to the club, but that's not really what I want to be known for....

"Master withdrawals submissive." See? It's a real condition thingy!!

"How is it okay for my husband to rub on a stripper?" Ooh...Well...?

"We think things" Of course we do.  Love it!

"mama always said calm" Well, my mama didn't, but I'm sure somebody out there has a nice calm mother...

"go bad moment" C'mon, it's cute!

"submissive to my husband's gf" I think I'd rather die. And I say that with complete sincerity.

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

A New Year

Has it really been 7 days since my last post? Dunno how that happened...Actually, I lie--I know exactly how it happened. Kids, people, investors, more people, business stuff, broken car, dog drama, and did I mention all the fucking people?

I fell off the wagon. I know that's not news, I fell off a long time ago. Just how far I fell is only sinking in now though. You know, that point when the change becomes almost normal, then one day you wake up and realize that it's not actually your normal?

Yea...It's really difficult for me here--this whole power exchange thing. I was already drifting when we left, and now...If I want work, people need to see me as independent, and take away the fact that my car hates me and I can't drive myself anywhere, I am...It's hard to leave it at the door when most of the work is starting at home.

And I get attached to Little Miss Independent. She's competent and confident, shit gets done like it should, when it should. I have little interest in ever letting her turn off, tone down, or let go enough to be anything else.

The thing is...It's showing on us. We're good. Hell, even at our worst, we're still pretty damn good. But we're not us good. There's more snark, less harmony, less intimacy...

We will get it all figured out, all ironed out, all...But this whole entirely new life thing? It's complicated.

I want to be here more, and I will. I just gotta wrap my head around life as I know it now.

Did you notice? It's a whole new year.