Friday, February 27, 2015

That Was A Short Storm

Well that was certainly a short, if rather tumultuous, storm!
Google reverses new porn policy

Just for fun...


Thursday, February 26, 2015

Blog On...

So...I have noticed that Blogland is exploding with the recent Blogger news about pornographic images making blogs targets for being made private by Blogger.

I realize that I can probably afford to be somewhat nonchalant about this, given the general lack of explicit images that I post here, whereas others are facing the very real possibility of losing their readers after years worth of Blogging. Ultimately, I doubt this is going to end up being a huge deal for the majority of adult oriented Bloggers (won't I have a conniption if my blog is turned private come the end of

Yes, there is quite a bit of interpretation about what constitutes pornographic material versus artistic expression. Very subjective, isn't it? I mean, their statement, "Starting March 23, 2015, you won't be able to publicly share images and videos that are sexually explicit or show graphic nudity on Blogger.
Note: We’ll still allow nudity if the content offers a substantial public benefit. For example, in artistic, educational, documentary, or scientific contexts." is horribly open to possible misinterpretation.

I noticed that lots of people are moving, and that makes me kinda sad. Because you have to find them again, and I hate Wordpress because it hates me and I can't ever seem to comment there...Though I do understand the irritation at Blogger's rather hypocritical, "We encourage self expression" bit. 

I'm not terribly attached to graphic images, and I have absolutely no issue with blogs being required to be listed as adult in nature. Now, should Blogger start censoring written sexual content...I have a moral objection to that. Anyways, they don't seem to care about the written content, (for now) as long as you have your little adult access warning.

I'm rambling though. What I really wanted to say, is that Hermione posted a link to get into your Picasa photo album. For anyone who doesn't already know, Picasa is where all of the photos you have uploaded to Blogger are stored. From there, you can delete pictures that might get you in trouble, or move them to a private album if you wish to do so. It's much simpler than weeding through years worth of posts and searching for pictures.

You just need to be signed into your Blogger account. Here's the link:

Tuesday, February 24, 2015

Not Nearly Enough...

I don't have nearly enough of these people in my life out here, and by not nearly enough, I mean any at all.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

Well That Was Short Lived...

So I started on my bottle of wine after sending the little guy to bed. Five minutes later, he comes out with tears streaming down his face and says that he has a horrible feeling that something is wrong and he doesn't know why. Really really upset. And while he is the sensitive type, this is not normal behavior for him.
I tell him it's okay, sit him on the couch, and let the dog in.
There's something wrong with her. She's barely moving, and having a hard time getting up and down.
I looked her over checking for any signs on bites, swelling, anything. Nothing.

I didn't say anything to him, about the dog, let him lie down on the couch, and now, after two hours of quiet and constant tears, he's sleeping.

And I'm facing the fact that the dog really isn't well.


Best case scenario, she'll be fine in the morning. Worst case...Well, we all know how that one goes.

She's one of the best dogs I have had in my entire life. Even if she likes to chew her way out of everything.

You know, some days I feel like I just can't catch a break.

A Bottle of Wine and I...

Alpha passed out early (working seven days a week does that to a person), the kids are spending their last few minutes watching U-Tube videos of spider-man, and I...

Am going to curl up on the couch with the remains of a bottle of wine, watch The Walking Dead, and pretend that everything is alright for one whole hour.


Friday, February 20, 2015


Alpha says that I stress too much. I'm not going to disagree. If I ever figure out how to stop, I'm all about it. Until then...


My driver's license is about to expire. Like, in a month about to expire. I need to get it renewed in a different state anyways. The thing is (and it's a really sucky thing), my name was misspelled on my birth certificate. I went through multiple licenses and a complete name change from what I thought my name was, to what it is now. Not long ago, someone pointed out that what I had always thought my name was, is not what my birth certificate says.

The state I came from is not real id compliant. This state is, and they will not accept my current license as proof of age and citizenship. Sooo...Any ideas on how to get them to accept my paperwork? Popping down to the bureau of vital statistics and getting my birth certificate fixed is not an option.
How in the hell do I convince them to give me a license? I mean, I have all of my name change paperwork, social security card (one with what I always thought my name was, and one with my "new" name), current id (for the month anyways), but my name was changed from what I thought my name was, not technically the name on my birth certificate, which is what I must list on the paperwork I'm filing...

I've never even left the country, if I was going to lie about my age, I'd be 28...But somehow I don't think the DMV will view those statements as viable proof of age and citizenship...

Thoughts, ideas...Anything? Help!

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Burning Heat

Living without you would be like existing in a dead sea
a land without peace,
nothing my mind for to ease.

You are my reason to believe
my deep blue sea in a desert without ecstasy
my life of fantasy in the flesh.

And I have turned away,
turned my face away from the burning heat
the hunger in your eyes
something not left over from the days when we were younger
something stronger
with a yearning that lasts
so much longer.

Yet still I feel
the burning heat
between your sheets
the smoldering flames in your eyes
as you growl so softly, "Mine".

Yearning for that magical high
my adrenaline fix
where I get my trauma kicks
keeping me always crawling
for one more kiss
one more whip
one more slash across my back.

You are my crack,
my heroin
my dug of choice for which I can no longer choose
living only for you to use
and so I drown
over and over again
in your burning heat
forever on my knees.

Thursday, February 12, 2015


I found myself watching the trailer for 50 Shades of Grey last night, and I had a few thoughts.

For one, why are all these people so friggin young? I mean, does he even have a driver's license? I'm sorry, but if someone like that tried to dominate me, I think I might laugh at him...

And what's with the, "I had a messed up childhood, I don't do romance" bit? Lots of us had fucked up childhoods--sounds kind of like an implication that he's the way he is because he was ruined as a child (and yes, if I had bothered to read the books, I would probably already know the answer to my assumptions).

That contradictory little part of me wants to see the movie just because of the general outcry about how people shouldn't watch it. No doubt I'll watch it eventually...While he sits there and smirks, pouring out a plethora of inappropriate and annoyingly funny comments until he can't take it anymore and goes to do something else. I'm betting on ten minutes...

Anyways, I should probably stop talking disparagingly about something I've neither read nor seen. Lol.

I realized something though. Who we are, the things I have been so desperately running away from, him and the way he is...My life, what we have, our reality...Is someone elses fantasy. Hell, it's my fantasy (minus the migraines and debt, of course).

He says that I am wasting time, too much effort put into pretending to be something I'm not. He thinks that I'm a firecracker with the soul of a slave, wrapped up in a pretty package...

I do know that if I didn't have what we have, if he wasn't who he is, if he was not my master and I were not his slave, I would live a life unfulfilled--dreaming only of the fantasy that is my reality.

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Why D/s?

In one of my last posts, I put a picture up which said "You are free to choose, but you are not free from the consequences of your choices".
I've been thinking about that, and I wonder if it doesn't always hold true. Sure, we are responsible for the consequences of our choices, but are we really free to choose our needs? I don't think we are. I mean, to a certain extent we choose our circumstances which often tend to dictate our needs, but I don't think one can just choose not to need D/s...I mean, one can choose to live without it, but that doesn't mean there will be no need, no itch below the surface, no space where it once existed...

What is it about D/s? What makes it magnetic, alluring, so entirely consuming? Why D/s?

I think, no, I know, it makes me feel alive. It evokes sensations and feelings which come to me from no other experience. And even now, in this place where I think I'm living without it, he is quick to point out that such is not the case. I still automatically follow old patterns--sitting on the floor, deferring to his choices, needing his approval...The list goes on and on.

It's silly really, to think I could be anything else. But sometimes I do think that. Maybe it's safer that way? Submission is vulnerability, and maybe sometimes it's easier to wrap that vulnerability up and tuck it away, to hide it even from myself. D/s makes me feel, I mean, really feel. Perhaps sometimes it's easier to avoid that feeling than it is to drown in it. The easy way way out maybe, the lazy path...

The thing is, that's not really living is it, to wander around avoiding the things that make you feel alive?

Tuesday, February 10, 2015


This whole mandatory health insurance thing? It's bullshit. Complete and total bullshit.
The ironic thing is, if we were still living where we were before, the kids would still qualify for medicaid.

As is, we'll be paying over $600 bucks a month with a $6,000 deductible, no dental, and god forbid anyone need a CT scan or be admitted to the hospital for anything. 'Cuz it ain't covered. And did I mention that I haven't even filled out the paperwork yet? Wonder if having a bad neck (that isn't covered anyways) adds to the bill...Probably. Because it's bullshit. If it adds up to too much more money for pretty much zero coverage, I'm throwing my computer at the wall and strangling Alpha's boss for not offering benefits.

I find the whole concept completely reprehensible. If some republican runs on the platform of repealing this mandatory insurance shit, I'm switching affiliations in a heartbeat. How sad is that?

Sunday, February 8, 2015

Nasty Truths

I had a dream last night...He was with someone else.
I don't even remember the dream, just the intensely overwhelming, soul crushing jealousy...It sucked.

A while back, I admitted (here in print no less, to be forever etched in some little corner of the internet) that I was incapable of truly having a romantic/intimate relationship without D/s.
It was one thing to admit it--a little bit brave, a little bit scary, a somewhat uncomplimentary feeling. It was admitting that I have a line in the sand which will always be redrawn, whether I like it or not.
It's another thing though, to now be in a place where I no longer desire D/s, no longer crave it, no longer live it. And face the fact that my past admittance holds true--I am truly incapable of any real form of romantic intimacy without Dominance and submission.

Yet here I sit. With absolutely no desire to resume the workings of D/s, no craving or need for the sensations which come with slavery, no intention of slipping back into the roles we held for so long.

The thing is...I'm married.
In a relationship which, by its very nature requires romantic intimacy.

And right now? We aren't good. Not really.

Thursday, February 5, 2015

Gorgeous Catastrophe

Life is magic, tragic, made of extremes and lovely dark things
a gorgeous catastrophe
woven one day at a time.

I wonder why it is
that tragedy tells so well in poetic digressions
why the most painful of lessons
show the most beautiful of transgressions.

Life is calamity, a gorgeous catastrophe
the paradise of drowning in someone elses eyes
where it is more the pain than the gain
which reminds us we are alive
because from that there is no place to hide.

The journey makes us, creates us, pushes us over the edge.
That beautiful glorious edge
between sanity and irrationality
where our demons fly free to play with fire
and lay with our angels.

Life is living on the line
between paradise and hell
never quite sure upon which side we stand
knowing only that eventually, somewhere we must land.

Life is a gorgeous catastrophe
a twisted masterpiece
yearning only to be free.

And in our end, will we remember
that we are the fingerprints of the maker
as children pray before sleep, the lord their soul to keep
as if we were ever separable from the whole.

The lonely, the tragic, the misfits, the magic lost, the underdogs,
and the broken with their words unspoken
standing on the edge
between dreams and unclean things
would we remember
that being broken makes us whole
because all that is
will always be contained within the recesses of the human soul.

Sunday, February 1, 2015


I am so totally uninspired these days, it's pathetic.

I think we got the luck of the draw with the little guy's teachers--they have divided their class into groups by skill level, and are going to work him ahead. When I expressed my concerns about next semester, (you know, having the same issue all over again) they said he should go into one particular teacher's 2nd grade class, because she works her qualifying students into 3rd grade work, so I think it might actually all work out...

So there's that...

Then there's D/s, the premise this blog was built upon over the course of nearly four years (is that right, almost four years already??).

Don't ask me what D/s is. I dunno anymore.
It comes down to a few things, I guess.
For one, I just damn well don't wanna, and he's too absorbed in his work and stupid hobby for anything more than fly-by attempts.
Always in the past, I have circled back around, come crawling to feed my needs. This time? I'm not entirely sure I'll ever circle back around.
Of course, there is always the chance that he'll drag me back kicking and screaming.
It kind of comes back to something Kaya said here a while back--if he wants me to follow, he has to lead. There's not a whole lot of leading from the cave (the name I have given our bedroom, the place where he spends every waking minute of his days, either working or escaping into his stupid hobby). And yes, I did say waking. He has developed a brilliant knack for only exiting the cave when I'm on my way to bed.
Then there's that overachieving little part of me which just loves to point out that you have to submit if you want to be dominated, and it's sure to get old if every little act of submission has to be drug out of the person who agreed to submit a long time ago...But then again, I don't really want it, and he only really wants it when it's convenient.
Sometimes I wonder if we have fallen into a relationship of conveniences...

Things were supposed to be better here. If nothing else, because he'd be bringing in better money. But that's not really the case...He's making less than we thought he would, and the bills multiplied quite enough to even it all out. Giving up the people and the trees and the mountain for a place where you could go do anything, seems like a much better idea when you can actually afford to go do those things, lol.

Logic tells me that we've only been here six weeks--give it a little time. Be patient.

Patience sucks.

 Did I mention that I'm finding his boss quite irritating these days? Don't get me wrong, the man is brilliant and has redeeming qualities, I'm just not seeing any of those qualities at the moment. And I tell ya, if I end up working there and he tries to micromanage me the way he is currently attempting to micromanage Alpha...

Yea, like this. Only with more blood!
That's all I got. All the cool inspiration has clearly deserted me and ran off with my mojo.


So for now, I'll be approaching the world like this: