With my face pressed into the bathroom floor I was reminded of the importance of my abandoned beliefs in housekeeping. The defense I offered myself that I had worked 60 hours this week just didn't seem to satisfy me like it should have, as I attempted to contemplate the layers of dust on the baseboards and the hair dye I had obviously missed on the bottom of the sink, accompanied clearly by an unforgivably wide streak of toothpaste.
It was going to be the mother of all orgasms. Right there on the floor of our decidedly dirty bathroom. Until a child wandered up to the bedroom door asking for toast.
Toast.
I may have sunk my teeth into Alpha's shoulder and muttered something about wanting to be one of those species that eat their young.
Maybe.
But it was still good. And hot. And kind of gross because really, I do need to clean the bathroom. But maybe that was part of the appeal and it fed the part of me that thrives on humiliation. Just a little bit.
Sunday, December 20, 2015
Saturday, December 19, 2015
I found a Space...
I haven't put in this many hours since I was 16, and I've never drowned in responsibility like I am now.
It's kicking my ass. I almost quit, but then I thought about what would happen to the people. Our wonderful, overworked staff who trickle in every morning and work until they can't see straight. What happens to them if people like me quit? The business sinks and they don't have a job to drag themselves to in the morning.
And so I get up and go back for more.
But I still want to quit. I miss my babies. I miss life.
One of the interesting an annoying things about being a manager is that everyone thinks that they know how it should be done. There is an often surprising lack of appreciation for being provided with solutions an a path to follow. It's not as easy as it sounds to choose and provide those paths in an industry that forges its own trails as it goes.
My job has so many facets, sometimes it makes me feel ill...
I am responsible for vaults and the products stored in them. I have had a love/hate relationship with the vaults. The first time I had to open one, it took me an hour. Those vaults were the first thing in the facility to bring me to tears.
In my life, I have found that one forms relationships with places. Mostly those magical outside places that resonate with the soul in some way.
The vaults are old, they have a somewhat unknown history, and before me, they had a keeper. It is likely that they have had multiple keepers in their quiet years of watching over the things which people deem to be of importance, with their limited access and concrete ceilings behind two foot thick doors.
I am the next keeper of the vaults. At the moment, I am one of only a few people who can even access them, and I am the only one working in them. They are quiet in the constant insanity of desperate activity which surrounds them.
These old vaults have a soul of their own, and had many keepers before me. They are silent in their purpose, watching over that which they have been entrusted to guard.
I had a moment yesterday, the kind of moment I have only ever experienced in magical wooded places devoid of people. In that moment, I found a space here where I belonged. That sounds small, but I have never escaped the feeling of not belonging in this not so new place we moved to a year ago.
The vaults watch, silent guardians of valuable things. I became their keeper in more than title alone, and those cold concrete walls with their steel doors and complicated combinations held me in their silence for a moment as their own. For the vaults to be mine, I had to become theirs, like a promise to a place, a small moment in space.
As things settle and staffing becomes less of an issue, and the vaults fill to capacity, I will spend a rising amount of time in them. I'm looking forward to it, that place where I fit. I miss the cage that one feels so strongly when one has time to immerse themselves in M/s. We are still what we have always been, and always will be. But our everything is directed at and given to the world right now.
In a way, those vaults are becoming a safe place for me in the insanity. I will be their keeper and they will hold my secrets, absorbing the quiet, serious conversations within their walls, watching those in charge as we whisper out our issues and fight through the tears that exist because it is all ultimately about people, and people feel and bleed, cry and need, people are people.
While making a somewhat extensive appearance in my job description, the vaults are only a facet of what I do. Yet somehow, in some small moment, I found my place and an unwritten title which fits me. I am, and will indefinitely remain, the keeper of the vaults.
Vaults are like M/s. They are a space of their own, almost outside of time. Safe, quiet to the depths of their soul. A space inside the storm.
It's kicking my ass. I almost quit, but then I thought about what would happen to the people. Our wonderful, overworked staff who trickle in every morning and work until they can't see straight. What happens to them if people like me quit? The business sinks and they don't have a job to drag themselves to in the morning.
And so I get up and go back for more.
But I still want to quit. I miss my babies. I miss life.
One of the interesting an annoying things about being a manager is that everyone thinks that they know how it should be done. There is an often surprising lack of appreciation for being provided with solutions an a path to follow. It's not as easy as it sounds to choose and provide those paths in an industry that forges its own trails as it goes.
My job has so many facets, sometimes it makes me feel ill...
I am responsible for vaults and the products stored in them. I have had a love/hate relationship with the vaults. The first time I had to open one, it took me an hour. Those vaults were the first thing in the facility to bring me to tears.
In my life, I have found that one forms relationships with places. Mostly those magical outside places that resonate with the soul in some way.
The vaults are old, they have a somewhat unknown history, and before me, they had a keeper. It is likely that they have had multiple keepers in their quiet years of watching over the things which people deem to be of importance, with their limited access and concrete ceilings behind two foot thick doors.
I am the next keeper of the vaults. At the moment, I am one of only a few people who can even access them, and I am the only one working in them. They are quiet in the constant insanity of desperate activity which surrounds them.
These old vaults have a soul of their own, and had many keepers before me. They are silent in their purpose, watching over that which they have been entrusted to guard.
I had a moment yesterday, the kind of moment I have only ever experienced in magical wooded places devoid of people. In that moment, I found a space here where I belonged. That sounds small, but I have never escaped the feeling of not belonging in this not so new place we moved to a year ago.
The vaults watch, silent guardians of valuable things. I became their keeper in more than title alone, and those cold concrete walls with their steel doors and complicated combinations held me in their silence for a moment as their own. For the vaults to be mine, I had to become theirs, like a promise to a place, a small moment in space.
As things settle and staffing becomes less of an issue, and the vaults fill to capacity, I will spend a rising amount of time in them. I'm looking forward to it, that place where I fit. I miss the cage that one feels so strongly when one has time to immerse themselves in M/s. We are still what we have always been, and always will be. But our everything is directed at and given to the world right now.
In a way, those vaults are becoming a safe place for me in the insanity. I will be their keeper and they will hold my secrets, absorbing the quiet, serious conversations within their walls, watching those in charge as we whisper out our issues and fight through the tears that exist because it is all ultimately about people, and people feel and bleed, cry and need, people are people.
While making a somewhat extensive appearance in my job description, the vaults are only a facet of what I do. Yet somehow, in some small moment, I found my place and an unwritten title which fits me. I am, and will indefinitely remain, the keeper of the vaults.
Vaults are like M/s. They are a space of their own, almost outside of time. Safe, quiet to the depths of their soul. A space inside the storm.
Sunday, November 29, 2015
50 Shades of Grey
So I never did read the books, but I finally got to watch the movie. Normally, I'm a book girl all the way, but I have realized that my life's reading is going to consist of state codes and SOP's (for me, that admission was tantamount to accepting that the sun won't rise tomorrow).
I don't know what I was expecting, but I was disappointed. Maybe I was looking for it to rekindle something in me, and it certainly did lead to some realizations, just not in the manner I had thought that it would.
Since I like to file my complaints before anything else...
Could they have picked any two characters with less chemistry? I mean seriously, the spark between them was tantamount to my attraction to the pile of dirty dishes in the sink--c'mon baby lets get it on, you know you want to do me!
With a playroom that cool, how come they're hardly ever in it?
On what planet does a dom spend that much time going down on a sub and she never ever ever reciprocates??
Who was really supposed to be in charge? From where I'm standing, it sure looked a hell of a lot like her.
Where exactly was the D/s? Hottest moment in the whole thing was when he made her eat. Seriously.
Her character made me want to beat her myself, and normally that's just not my bent--she was a raging brat.
According to Alpha, "Mr. Grey is a pussy with consistency issues and a serious lack of self control"...His commentary would have been quite annoying if I hadn't agreed with him.
What exactly is with the implication that Grey is the way he is because there's something deeply wrong with him, due to past abusive experiences? I found her mission to fix him painfully annoying. For me, that is one of the attractions of a dominant--you don't "fix" them, you don't change them, you don't make them what they're not. They are who they are, they want what they want, and they do what they do. As a sub, you accept that and allow yourself to be molded to fit whatever shape they take, somehow fitting the acceptance of that molding into the knowledge that nobody else will accept you for who you are in quite the same way.
For me, a big part of D/s is that acceptance of who someone is beyond all the trappings of what people think that we should be.
I wonder at the mass appeal the story seems to have. I was a bit shocked by how tame it was.
Enter realizations...
Tame. 50 Shades of Grey was painfully tame, and dare I say, not far beyond the borders of vanilla. I get that maybe it was a whole, "introduce her gently" thing, and it seems to have been somewhat of an awakening phenomenon for a lot of women, but still...I don't really get it.
Maybe I was disappointed in what I perceived as a distinct lack of actual D/s in the story and maybe I was hoping for it to spark something in me that has lain quiet through these last months of insanity. It didn't do that. But it did show me that maybe I'm not as far gone as I feel because there's still more D/s in a moment of my life than in an hour of that story. So for that, despite my disappointment, I do have an appreciation for 50 Shades of Grey.
I don't know what I was expecting, but I was disappointed. Maybe I was looking for it to rekindle something in me, and it certainly did lead to some realizations, just not in the manner I had thought that it would.
Since I like to file my complaints before anything else...
Could they have picked any two characters with less chemistry? I mean seriously, the spark between them was tantamount to my attraction to the pile of dirty dishes in the sink--c'mon baby lets get it on, you know you want to do me!
With a playroom that cool, how come they're hardly ever in it?
On what planet does a dom spend that much time going down on a sub and she never ever ever reciprocates??
Who was really supposed to be in charge? From where I'm standing, it sure looked a hell of a lot like her.
Where exactly was the D/s? Hottest moment in the whole thing was when he made her eat. Seriously.
Her character made me want to beat her myself, and normally that's just not my bent--she was a raging brat.
According to Alpha, "Mr. Grey is a pussy with consistency issues and a serious lack of self control"...His commentary would have been quite annoying if I hadn't agreed with him.
What exactly is with the implication that Grey is the way he is because there's something deeply wrong with him, due to past abusive experiences? I found her mission to fix him painfully annoying. For me, that is one of the attractions of a dominant--you don't "fix" them, you don't change them, you don't make them what they're not. They are who they are, they want what they want, and they do what they do. As a sub, you accept that and allow yourself to be molded to fit whatever shape they take, somehow fitting the acceptance of that molding into the knowledge that nobody else will accept you for who you are in quite the same way.
For me, a big part of D/s is that acceptance of who someone is beyond all the trappings of what people think that we should be.
I wonder at the mass appeal the story seems to have. I was a bit shocked by how tame it was.
Enter realizations...
Tame. 50 Shades of Grey was painfully tame, and dare I say, not far beyond the borders of vanilla. I get that maybe it was a whole, "introduce her gently" thing, and it seems to have been somewhat of an awakening phenomenon for a lot of women, but still...I don't really get it.
Maybe I was disappointed in what I perceived as a distinct lack of actual D/s in the story and maybe I was hoping for it to spark something in me that has lain quiet through these last months of insanity. It didn't do that. But it did show me that maybe I'm not as far gone as I feel because there's still more D/s in a moment of my life than in an hour of that story. So for that, despite my disappointment, I do have an appreciation for 50 Shades of Grey.
Sunday, November 22, 2015
The Great Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza!
I have not become so detached from the things that really matter in life that I have missed Jz's recent announcement.
Please do join up and play with us! I am sadly down on the whole cooking front and could seriously use some new recipes!
Directly from Jz~
"Dust off your baking pans, because on Wednesday, December 9th 2015
The Great Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza returns!
Won't YOU please join us?
It's easy to play along.
Just post a recipe that day for a holiday goodie -- any goodie.
It doesn't have to be for cookies… or even be sweet.
We do not discriminate against any goodie.
(We are equal opportunity consumers around here.)
That's pretty much all there is to it.
The single catch is that there's only one way to get your name in the official list of participants: You have to contact me (Jz) by Monday, Dec. 7th with both your name and the address of your blog."
Saturday, November 14, 2015
Tired
I was sad to log on and see that I had completely missed love our lurkers day. In all fairness, I've missed a bunch of other stuff too--a birthday, spelling homework, cub scout events, the death of my mom's cat, a bunch of sunsets (though I do tend to see sunrise on my way to work), all the overtime pay I'm not making, breakfasts, lunches, dinners (my kids had ramen for dinner the other night. Ramen. I shall say no more).
I'm so tired. Bone tired.
We have one of these at work:
Unfortunately, this person is a manager. And he's a fucking idiot.
My actual job is flying up on me. Quickly. Like two weeks early quickly. It's complex and complicated, there's lot going on. It requires come forethought, and I have no time for this thought. That freaks me out--I have to plan ahead, or things don't work right or me. I was supposed to have months to figure this all out, not a few days. But we have this manager...He's a fucking idiot. I tried to drop all my cleaning up of his messes about a week ago. You know, so I could concentrate on not being the next disaster zone. Alpha wouldn't let me. It's a safe assumption that we haven't been getting along swimmingly these days....
I spent half of my day discovering and trying to track down mistakes. Just like I spent my whole day before that and the week before that, and the rest of the month doing. So I'm still behind on all of those other things I was supposed to do yesterday that I've been doing for months which don't relate to my actual job but are very important.
I am so friggin tired. And did I mention a bit freaked out? I really do not love my job. Most days, I don't even like it. This is not a life that I ever wanted to live. It's not necessarily a bad life, just not one I ever dreamed of or would have chosen. And it takes everything.
I have felt something lately though...Something deep and compelling, almost forgotten, something pushed deep down and hidden...I feel it in that moment when he pulls me close as if I am merely an extension of himself, in that moment when a dominant personality wanders by and I push down that funny little flutter, in that moment when I am reminded that being his is not what most people believe it to be.
*I think I wrote this a few weeks ago. Dunno really because I'm pretty sure I missed a bunch of those too--I just don't know where they went. And that feeling? Yea...
I'm so tired. Bone tired.
We have one of these at work:
My actual job is flying up on me. Quickly. Like two weeks early quickly. It's complex and complicated, there's lot going on. It requires come forethought, and I have no time for this thought. That freaks me out--I have to plan ahead, or things don't work right or me. I was supposed to have months to figure this all out, not a few days. But we have this manager...He's a fucking idiot. I tried to drop all my cleaning up of his messes about a week ago. You know, so I could concentrate on not being the next disaster zone. Alpha wouldn't let me. It's a safe assumption that we haven't been getting along swimmingly these days....
I spent half of my day discovering and trying to track down mistakes. Just like I spent my whole day before that and the week before that, and the rest of the month doing. So I'm still behind on all of those other things I was supposed to do yesterday that I've been doing for months which don't relate to my actual job but are very important.
I am so friggin tired. And did I mention a bit freaked out? I really do not love my job. Most days, I don't even like it. This is not a life that I ever wanted to live. It's not necessarily a bad life, just not one I ever dreamed of or would have chosen. And it takes everything.
I have felt something lately though...Something deep and compelling, almost forgotten, something pushed deep down and hidden...I feel it in that moment when he pulls me close as if I am merely an extension of himself, in that moment when a dominant personality wanders by and I push down that funny little flutter, in that moment when I am reminded that being his is not what most people believe it to be.
*I think I wrote this a few weeks ago. Dunno really because I'm pretty sure I missed a bunch of those too--I just don't know where they went. And that feeling? Yea...
Sunday, October 25, 2015
For This Life
Sometimes life whispers in my ear...A voice so familiar, and I wonder if she spoke to me before my time as I now know it began...
For this life you will need
you will bleed
you will give it everything you are, were, and ever could be.
To live, to truly be alive, always knowing that one day everything you love must die
for this you will throw your soul into the fire
drown in the seas of misery
taste the tears of of your fears
feel the passion of pain
occasionally wondering if you have gone insane
anything to avoid the sands of mediocrity.
For this life
it is glorious, beautiful, obscene, sacred, degraded,
and everything in between
and for the privilege of pain
you will brave the salty seas
be torn apart in the storm
hoping that your tears will sate the parched earth.
To live
in agony
in ecstasy
desperately trying to avoid the spaces between
wherein dwells the mediocrity for which you will hold the deepest distaste
you will suffer the stars in your bones whispering
always calling you home.
For this life
you will bear witness to death
and her inevitable call
all that you love
and all that you know
will eventually travel home
and for the privilege of pain
you will brave the salty seas
be torn apart in the storm
hoping that your tears will sate the parched earth.
To live
in agony
in ecstasy
desperately trying to avoid the spaces between
wherein dwells the mediocrity for which you will hold the deepest distaste
you will suffer the stars in your bones whispering
always calling you home.
For this life
you will bear witness to death
and her inevitable call
all that you love
and all that you know
will eventually travel home
Saturday, October 24, 2015
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