Weekend in Review

I have two partially written posts that aren't going to get finished this morning. Should have finished them when I started writing them. Hate it when I lose the flow.

My cube neighbor on Friday afternoon learned this very valuable lesson.  Sarcasm is my thing. He overheard a conversation I was having with someone where I said "I took away her security to do that because she thinks she knows what she doesn't know - and doing it will keep me from having to stab her with her pencil."  No, I'm not stabbing anyone with their pencil.  At least not today. But, I shocked him.

Too bad he didn't hear the person I was talking with who was laughing hysterically.

I told you yesterday about the Saturday drama with DJ.  Yesterday as she and I were walking someplace, she put her arms around me and said "I feel like an idiot."  I asked her why - and she told me how stupid she feels for acting like she did on Saturday over something so idiotic.  "Do you understand why were were so insistent that you do it?" was my question.  She did and thanked me for it.  "I would have felt like a bigger idiot if I hadn't done it."

Indigo is becoming a pogo expert. She got a very nice pogo stick for Christmas - my in-laws actually bought one an adult could use.  She was doing pretty well on it, but this weekend, something clicked.  Instead of hearing the pogo sound a few times and then it stopping, we started hearing 5 minutes of pogo sounds.  She was pogo-ing in the rain yesterday.  It was pretty funny as neighbors would stop by and applaud her.  "Moe, can I go outside and pogo?" was what I kept hearing the past two days.  Go outside instead of watching cartoons? Hmm....YES!

Yesterday afternoon, the kids were fighting.  We sent them to clean their rooms as punishment.  It was raining outside. I was tired.  We were both tired.  Our attempt to sneak away for sex was a failure for two reasons: DJ singing some weird, made-up song that was fucking hilarious and the fact that G's cat decided my pillow was his bathroom.  Fucker.  We gave up, each got a beer, and curled up on the couch to watch a movie.  We found Serenity on cable.  I knitted, he wrote letters for an upcoming event he is attending, and we enjoyed the time to ourselves.

So the guardian I was having issues with regarding the girl scout cookie sales proved her crazy over the weekend.  She requested last week that I get her child more cookie - and told me how many and in what quantity.  I emailed the troop yesterday to remind them of when the money was due, said I had outstanding cookies, etc.  She emailed me back asking "can you return cookies?"  HUH?  I got the child like 24 more boxes per her request, and now she's asking if they can be returned? No, they can't be returned.  I do have another girl who could probably sell them. She is the master of the cookie sales as I'm finding. I reply that the cookies I have were gotten for her child per her request and they could not be returned. That being said, there is another little girl who could probably sell them.  Her reply? "We'll take them. We have orders for them anyway."  Then why did she ask???  I can't help but worry about the money collection for this kid.  Thankfully this is why I'm a stickler for the process.  She signed a contract saying she understood the money thing - and I have all of the receipts.  This will become legal issue if I have problems.  Good times.

I am actually looking forward to March starting tomorrow.  I know, weird thing to look forward to.  March is the family birthday month - there are 5 birthdays in the month including G's and DJ's.  DJ's black belt test is in two weeks.  Damn - two weeks.  I'm so excited for her.  Three years of working her ass off to get to this point. She's going to rock it.  Then there is definitely a weekend of fun in there that is to be looked forward to as well.    And March is the month I have to start dedicating myself to running again.

So here's to the last day of February!

POD - Sunday Wanderings

art in the park - yes, it is a dog dish.

One of the new apartment buildings downtown has several wind turbines on it. They were all going today with the wind. 

The baptist church downtown

Functional art - these bikes are stored here by the Zoo Bombers - a group who go up to the zoo located up in the hills. Then on these kid bikes they see how fast they can go down the twisty, turny roads back into the city.  It's crazy. The city was going to confiscate the bikes when they were stored all chained together on a public bike rack. Then someone created this "art piece" for them.  The city was happy - the bombers were happy - and no bikes were lost due to confiscation.  

Portland has a rule about public art projects. New building projects must contribute 1% to the public art projects.  As a result, we end up with neat stuff - and we end up with dog dishes.  Overall, it works - dog dish aside.

Puberty is Weird

DJ said that to me a few months ago. She came downstairs. I could tell from her body language that she was conflicted, unhappy, and just not sure what to do or how to react. She threw her arms me and said "Moe, puberty is weird."

Saturday, we had a real conflict as parents.  DJ was freaking out.

DJ does not freak out.  I cannot recall the last time she has had a freak out moment.  She tends to embrace the new. She blows of the anxiety.  She just sort of jumps in with both feet rather than balks.  She may be nervous, but she will always exude confidence.

Normally.

She came down the stairs this morning and gave me a hug.

"I don't feel like myself today," she said as her head was buried into my shoulder.

I told her that's what Moe's were for. I knew she would do great today.  She always rocks.  And just held her for a few minutes.  Then I gave her a huge squeeze, kissed her, and sent her to get the rest of her stuff.

In the car, she was just off.  She was quiet. She was not freaking out about running late per usual.  And when we got there just on time, she just sat there instead of sprinting for the door.

"I'm feeling really weird."

We asked what the problem was.  No answer. She was freaked out. You could tell she was.

"I'm really really nervous for some reason."

We explained it was just a class.  No one was grading her. She had to be there, do what was asked, so they could check the box on her black belt test.  No test. No judgement. Just a class.

She would not get out of the car.  She was freaking out.

"DJ, if you don't take the class, they may not let you test for your black belt.  You have worked so hard for 3 years to get to this point. Do you really want to lose your chance just because you were nervous??"

She was seriously considering it.  On one hand, she did not want to lose her chance.

On the other, she didn't care. She was freaked, and just wanted to go home.

As a parent, this SUCKED.  On one hand, it was a suck-it-up moment.  Nerves are nerves.  Don't throw it all away because of them.

On the other hand, I wanted to let her go home - and tell her it was going to be alright.  A conflicting moment as a mom - toss her out of the car or take her home.

And she was on the verge of an anxiety attack - you could see it in her eyes.  So G and I started talking to her about not letting her brain talk her out of something she has worked so hard about - just because there were some unknowns.  You could tell G was just at wits end.  He was going to stay with her if that's what it would take.  He was frustrated too.  Does he drag her from the car? Or take her home too?

I finally told her she needed to get out of the car.  She was not thinking clearly.  She was thinking too much. She was going to be fine - like usual - I decided I could not let her irrational fear win.

I don't recall what I said - but I got her out of the car.  She was - by this time - 20 minutes late.

"WTF was THAT??!?!?" was the text I got from G after we drove off.
"I don't know if I should hug her or throttle her?"

"Hug her" was my response, "she's going thru puberty poisoning. She doesn't understand why this happened either. All we can do is hold on as she goes through it."

"Agreed."

G talked to one of the instructors there that knows and loves DJ.  He told her she was having a freakout of some sort - and asked if she would check on her.  Despite all of his frustration, he was honoring his promise by not leaving and not being there for her.  This instructor told him that she was doing fine.

Later, we met them as the class was ending.  She did great. She has a fine time. She learned a lot. Hell, she was even asked to perform a form a as they demo'd the way you score them. She did a great job. In fact, she was happy at how they scored it - and the feedback they gave her.  She was excited.

"I don't know what I was worried about."

Neither do we. But she did spend the rest of the day commenting how she just felt off.  We went a few places, and she and I walked hand-in-hand or arm-in-arm.  We joked. She found something for a friend and fretted that she didn't have a dollar with her to buy it for her friend. (I gave her a dollar because any kid who is excited to buy her friend some "pocket duct tape" deserved a dollar for it.  And yes, her friend will be just as excited too.)

When we went to an iconic store downtown - an Outdoor store which is actually a western store - she got excited by the whips (lord, help us) - and wanted to understand what the riding crops could be used for. (Yeah, we're all in trouble.)

Hormone poisoning.

It has begun.

May we all get through it.
And may an afternoon with her Moe will cure some of it, like it did Saturday.

POD - Telling Religion

While DJ did her 3hrs of taekwondo today, Indigo and I drove up the road to The Grotto.  The Grotto is a neat place in a forested area.  Before we went, I had to take a picture of the Hollywood Theater - a neat theater they are in the process of restoring back to its full glory.

The Grotto is your typical Catholic Shrine for Mary - "Our Sorrowful Mother". I always love the caves where the shrines are created. There was a grotto near my home town, and despite my young age, I remember it quite vividly.  It's what happens when you are raised by a recovering Catholic.  You get enough Catholicism to make you dangerous.

The first time I visited The Grotto in Portland, it was Christmas time. It was quite amazing - the lights, the music, the choirs.  I had taken my parents, and it left an impression. I had wanted to go back during the day to see it.   So, off we went.  

I hadn't thought about the fact Indigo would have questions.  And boy, did she have them.  We spent a lot of time talking about the place.  I showed her the grotto - which was full of icicles from the recent snow and melt.  We talked about the prayer candles. A family was lighting a few with their prayers written on them. We talked about the pews in the plaza and how people would kneel to pray.

We talked about the various saints around the plaza.  St Peregrine, for example, the patron saint of cancer patients.  Thankfully these were labeled.  We ran into two nus dressed in more traditional habits.  And we saw more saints:

But, she really wanted to understand why this guy Jesus died. Why was his mom holding him - and why was he important.  We talked about the story. We walked the stages of the cross.  She read the descriptions, I filled in the blanks.  I was happy it was just her and me. I could hear in my head my dad getting excited by her questions and wanting to share more of the story with her.  Yeah, not yet. 

When we were done, I told her she now understand one religion. "Thanks for telling me religion, Moe," was her response.  Then we went and got a cocoa for her and a coffee for me. It was fucking cold. 

POD - Chilly Day Photos

Love the mural on the Lotus building

It's so cold that the park is empty.

The Portlandia Statue - in all her glory.

Face Down on the Edge

Pushed face down on the edge of the bed, he fucked me hard from behind - holding my body into place as he pushed hard into me with each stroke - driving me into the bed.

I did my best to steady myself - to control what little I had over the situation - the angle - absorbing the force, but he knew - and grabbed me in new places to steady me.

And periodically, as he fucked me, he would swat my ass - making it red - adding to the bruises and marks already left by another.

Then he decided to add to the tension - clamping my nipples - pulling them tight. And with each thrust into my pussy, those nipples would rub against the bed - blurring that line between pleasure and pain even further.

I could tell he enjoyed it because he knew it was blurring that line for me. Knowing it, fueled him in his assault. As he swatted my ass some more - repeatedly - making it even more red, if that was possible.

And this is where things diverged in a large way. Two different toppy men - two different styles - but both started with me bent over a bed and tormenting my nipples.

Both left me with bruises of different sorts.

Both left me deliciously sore.

Both got way too much joy pushing my limits.

And both gave me much joy in pushing them.


One does all of these things to me as he gently strokes my hair and kisses my forehead.

The other does it with an evil gleen in his eye that makes me laugh or sass him.

One, I want to submit to without a fight.

The other, I want to fight before I submit.

One is reserved until we are alone.

The other I’ll give a blow job in a parking lot.

I am one lucky, spoiled grrrl.

POD - A Week in Pictures

I was drinking one beer when G brought me the other. Double fisting it, as it were.

Think Day Treat for their study of Egypt. Didn't happen because of the great snow event of 2011.  Yeah, there was no snow that day. These are walnuts with orange marzipan dipped in caramelized sugar. According to the Egyptian cultural site, this recipe dates back to Cleopatra who would feed these to her lover to revitalize him post-sex.  Yeah, I'm skipping that part when we talk about it next week. They aren't too bad. Hell, G is even eating them, and he hates walnuts....or he's building up his vitality for something soon.

SNOW!!!

Or the view at 3am when your 8 year old gets up and discovers it is snowing out and sleeping with a spoon under her pillow was working.  It was a long LONG night.

Snowy tree. Last time we had the tree full of snow, it was also full of unhappy robins.

Indigo wanted to ride her bike today.  Instead, she pogo'd....in the snow.

My christmas gift from my brother was a keg of homebrew - an IPA. It's great.  He just didn't carbonate it before he gave it to me. I've spent most of the week with the CO2 pumped up shaking this cornelius keg.  Finally - the persistence paid off. It isn't bad. Smells hoppier than it is.  Decent though. 

HNT - Mark Me

Mark me as your own.
Mark me using every part of your body,
.....Hands
.....Teeth
.....Mouth
.....Cock
Use whatever you have
.....Rope
.....Crop
.....Clamps
Leave me to feel tomorrow
All of the things you did today
Give me reminders
.....Of the intensity of the moments
.....Of the giggles
.....Of the wiggles
.....Of the fun
Make me want you to do it again....
....and again.

Check out Os to see who else is playing this week.
Or OHNT to see who is playing over there.

A Turning Point of Sorts

We had an impromptu play date on Monday - SG and I.  The opportunity presented itself, and we both jumped at the chance to get back into a routine, I think.  The last several months have been off - between kid stuff and work and the holidays.

So, having the day off - I jumped in the car and met him at his house.

There may be more of an erotic story out of this meeting later, but it was the conversations that happened between our play sessions that really stand out for me.

In kink, negotiations are huge. As a friend said, you could go to jail with some of the sorts of play that we do.  The bruises left behind can raise questions that the explanation of "it was consensual" may not easily be accepted.

While SG and I have had sort of "in the moment" exchanges, we have never sat down and talked about our kinks - what is in or out of bounds.  As we had that moment finally - a year later - it was quite revealing.

Smart people believe they can infere anything given enough information.  And we will all climb that ladder of inference quite quickly before we determine if those rungs are actually solid or imaginary.  It is the nature of intelligence, I think.  Why talk directly about something if you can read the signs and go with it.

And that is the problem really - sometimes the signs aren't really signs.  They are just moments that stand alone.  There is no hidden meaning or connection with the other things.

SG and I both did that with each other.  I made assumptions about him and his play style that were gleaned off our moments together.  I never asked him directly - asking for clarity - making sure what I was seeing was what I was really seeing.

SG did the same with me too.  For example, he had no idea that a spanking alone will turn me on even without sex.  He had assumed those things were only for sexual play - not as foreplay or a stand alone play session - but as a larger act of sex.  Boy was he surprised when I assured him that no, that was not the case.

As we laid there cuddled together, whispering these things to each other, I felt our dynamic shift a bit. Whenever something would get mentioned that I could tell he liked, I did something amazing - I asked him directly if that was something he was interested in doing or trying.  His response was also direct - his language which is usually softened was direct and rough.  It was nice seeing that in him - being able to reveal that part of me to him without concern about it being a negative dynamic changer between us.

SG revealed some things about the things he liked.  He admitted that he likes doing certain things to me because he knows I'll feel it for days to come.  And it'll make me think of him and the fun we had.  I had not known that was part of his goal with some of the things we tried.  Knowing it was part of a more evil plan was something I liked.  These weren't moment in time fucks - they were things he was thinking about - plotting - planning.  More than I had realized.  I like it when that is the case.   I mean, what woman doesn't like knowing the guy she is playing with is thinking about the next time.

All of this talking led to our next round of play as we continued talking and sharing our kinks as well as what we would like to do together as we fucked.

This moment, I think, will be a turning point for us.  He has already told me he is making plans for our next encounter.  I can't wait to see where this takes us.

Now, I just have to make sure he doesn't get any ideas from a different playmate, or I'll really be in trouble as I'm also learning.

Come Find Me

I rarely go out and look to see how people get to my blog. If I do, it is usually a result of a huge spike in traffic that makes me wonder where are they all coming from.

When I do go look at the sources of my blog traffic, I usually hit the search terms first. Why? Because of the entertainment value, of course.

I mean, when someone got to your blog via the search phrase "fuck my labia", you have to be entertained.  So here is my search word list, in no particular order

• different fuck
• tongue on my clit
• rope bondage artist 
• porn comics
• monogamy lack of interest
• a different kind of fuck blog
• "grabbed my" fuck orgasm
• "fuck me hard" blogspot 2011
• "I'm so wet" blog
• egyptian fucked me my pussy then blog 
• "open marriage" "my husband" sex
• fuck my labia

I also love the variations my blog name that get people here. 

• RTW
• RTWS and Emmy
• RTWS and Comcast (a result of a blog post like 2 years ago)
• right turn no signaling bog
• right turn in angles 

Then there are the two blog posts that always seem to land people on my site.  The first is my happy birthday Dilbert post which is from like 2 years ago.  And the other is the ladder of accountability one which is also several years old.  Wonder how many have gotten shocks landing here, reading the post, then looking around.  That thought entertains me.

While I was at it, I decided to look to see who people are coming to me from - which other sites were referring their traffic to my blog.  A big thank you must go out to:

• Bondageblog.com - a site that picked up a story of mine via eLust and sent a whole bunch of traffic to me.  A whole shitload of traffic!
• e[lust] - participation and reposting as required does have its privileges. 
• Veronica - your blog sends me a lot of traffic - thank you! 
• Vixen - have I thanked you enough for including me in your Friday Favorites! Thank you!!
• Dana - Thank you for your mentions and link love as well. 
• Sadie - I'll be honest, this surprised me a bit as I had not realized you had my site linked on your blog.  Thank you for the link love and the traffic.
• Borderline Unfriendly - this one showed me I need to look at my stats more often. Why? I found a blog sending me link love that I need to go visit. Thank you!!
• A Thousand Kisses Deep - another site I didn't realize was referring readers to me. Thank you!

POD - Cement Art and Chicks

Both of these faces, I found on my run this morning. Someone had put them into the wet cement of a sidewalk. I think of how many times I walked over them before noticing.  

The chickens were in the front yard today taking care of the moss. Or at least, that was my hope.  The girls tossed out scratch, and the hens went to town.  I have no idea which of the two black chickens this one is.  DJ knows, I'm sure.  Hopefully Julia, the Jersey Giant, will finish growing so we can tell which is which again.  Until then, both of them look alike.  

Week in Review - Sunday Edition

I was going to write this Friday, but then something else came out of my fingers as I sat down at the keyboard.

Then Saturday was just a day of activity.

So, Sunday it is.

This summarizes my work week nicely.  There is a particular accounting manager who was driving me nuts.  Her overly emotional response was just killing me.  Try to help her reduce her workload in one area by 80%, and her response was give me a 100% reduction or give me nothing.  Then she would go off and rant about how no one understands the hell she's going through, blah, blah, blah.

I tweeted the following in response to one of these discussions:

"All an 'all or nothing' attitude yields is frustration and nothing."

I took Friday off after they drove me crazy all week. I feel for her. I really do. But damn it, let me help you then. Instead, I get to watch her sabotage things with her team, other teams, and the consultants. And no one wins that one.
The one thing about work this week that was good was the fact we moved into the new office. They gave the person with a fear of heights the giant window cube - on the 14th floor. Sadly, I cannot enjoy the view as other can. I was worried how this crew would adjust moving into an all cubicle environment. So far, so good. The white noise generator in the background helps tremendously. As do my headphones. The only downside so far seems to be the horribly slow elevators - which is a result of the security on each floor. Minor price to pay.

Cookie hell continues to be in full effect. A girl that is new to the troop sold 200 boxes of cookies.  My troop overall sold 300 before this order.  Tomorrow, I'm off to get more cookies for this girl.  I guess I should be thankful. The girls want an overnight at the zoo as their prize.  They are definitely earning the money for one.

Thank you all for your comments on Friday's post.  I appreciated the feedback.

I still kind of shake my head at the fact I have hit this point - that we have hit this point of not caring so much about it as we have.  Like I said, it's a nice feeling.

Yesterday, we had a cable internet technician at the house trying to figure out why our cable internet was not working suddenly.  While he and I are in the basement trying to sort it out, my visiting family members, their friends and G were upstairs in the kitchen talking.  Suddenly, the tech and I both hear G say something about "porn".  I glance over at the tech to see what his reaction was, and you could see his eyes sparkle with amusement as he's trying to not show that he's recognizing the word.

G mentioned porn like 4 more times, and I bursted out laughing.  "Did he say 'corn'?" was the tech's question to me in a chuckle.  "If it helps you, we can pretend it was." He laughed and said it was the strangest conversation he had overheard.  Between the porn talk and the fact I was openly celebrating the fact the issue was not my issue but their issue (which they argued with me about on the phone the day before), the tech declared this stop his most entertaining of the day.

After he left, I went upstairs and asked them all if they were really talking about porn.  Yes, they were talking about the porn comics one famous artist had drawn in the early days. I relayed how that conversation was heard down in the basement, much to everyone's amusement.

And on that note, I leave you with this thought:

Have a great Sunday!

POD - A Day of Mountains

This was one of those clear, crisp days that gave the right people with the right view a 5-6 mountain view.  Here are a couple that I liked. 

St John's Bridge and Mt Adams

Mt St Helens and the Columbia/Willamette Rivers

POD - SQUIRREL!!!

This squirrel was in our bird feeder this morning.  Squeezed inside, he was sorting through the bird seed eating what he could find.

POD - Snow, Moon and Birds

A Shift in Thinking

I've kind of hit this point where I don't really care if people know about the open marriage that G and I have.  While I am not going to go out and broadcast it, I am far from hiding it anymore.

I realized I had hit this point a few months ago when our friends were staying with us for the weekend - and we were all sans kids.  G had forgotten his house key thus locking he and his playmate out of the house.  We drove back to the house, tossed them my key, and told them to have fun as we were getting a beer at our favorite bar a few blocks away.  Then off we went, arm in arm, in front of our longtime neighbors and everything - in the middle of the day.  I didn't even think about it until we came back holding hands - middle of the afternoon. I still didn't care, but was taken back by the fact I was aware I didn't care.

When we first started swinging,  it was all about being discrete.  Very few couples would have any sex talks in a bar or restaurant.  Most people we knew were so insanely hell bent on keeping the swingers in their life away from their "real lives" that it was almost insulting especially when the goal on everyone's profiles and conversations was to "find friends with benefits".  Great, you found the benefits, but how can you be friends too? In many cases, I took that friends part as meaning, "the conversation before we fuck won't turn me off by insulting or annoying me, so let's go fuck".

What we both started learning pretty quickly though was that the people we connected with the most - the people we had fun with the most in the bedroom - we had a great connection with outside of the bedroom.  These became people we cared about.  We talked about our days. We talked about woes. We had hot, kinky sex whenever we got together.  We had family meals. We checked in on each other when sick.  We were truly friends.

The trend I noticed overall is that the kinkier the men (and women) I connected with, the better friends we seemed to be.  I liked that trend because I found two things.  The first is that they knew how to push my boundaries in ways most could not in the past.  The second which is related to the first is that they could read me because they knew me.  This allowed me to trust them in ways I didn't trust most playmates.  I knew they would not knowingly hurt me. I knew that they would check in if they were unsure. I knew a safe word would never be needed because they could tell by tone of voice, body language, etc if I was done or not comfortable.  And with one person, he seems to know exactly when I know.  He is a perceptive fellow.

As these people started being fixtures in my life - fixtures next to the vanilla people that were also there - fixtures next to the family - I started realizing how little I cared if someone found out.  Being caught at a Twisted Party by coworkers, I seriously found it funny.  Two years ago, I would have freaked.  Today, I don't care at all.

Making out in a crowded bar in a booth with someone other than my husband? Yes please.  I don't even think about running into someone I know.  I'll cross that bridge if it comes.  Kinky, sexy talk there too? If we are overheard, I'm sure we are giving someone one hell of a story to tell their friends later about what they overheard in the bar.

We had a longtime friend figure out we were open.  It's led to some great conversations.  Our roommate and good friend who still reads my blog found out, and loves reading the escapades.  He shared his with me.

This weekend, I'll be talking to a longtime friend about everything. She and her husband (as I found out) are also open - newly open from the looks of it.  I know she would freak out if she stumbled across us on her own, so I'm going to lay it on the table as no big deal.  Because, to me, it isn't a big deal.

I guess it is this experience with people finding out coupled with the fact it is our relationship - not anyone else's - that has shifted my thinking.   Who knows. I do know there is something freeing about it.  I like that feeling.

HNT - Danger

"The true man wants two things: danger and play. For that reason he wants woman, as the most dangerous plaything."

~Friedrich Nietzsche

I've been feeling like a cat.  Relaxed on the outside, but ready to strike if touched wrong - or right - depending on the right person.  'Cause I know some like the claws.

Osbasso has a list of others playing this week, so go forth and visit others.

Or OHNT for other fun.

POD - Cookie Hell

Even the dog is fed up with the cookie hell.  Sorted - now to be delivered - I hope - tomorrow - to parents who will be responsible for making sure they get paid for.  I hate cookies.  I only had 33 cases for my girls.  My cohort had to pick up 225 cases.   My hell, I guess, is more like purgatory compared to here fun.

A Fog

Fog 

by: Carl Sandburg

HE fog comes

on little cat feet.

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

I remember being DJ's age when I memorized this poem. I can recall the book I had checked out - a poetry book to satisfy a book report assignment. It captured my attention because of the colorful illustrations the person who assembled the collection had with each poem. Fog was the poem for white - and the imagery of fog as a cat designated with me more than most of the other poems.

Fog - it is what invaded my brain this past weekend. It came into my head and heart on little cat feet decided, as a cat tends to do, to stay for a while.

Fog invaded my brain. It clouded my thoughts - forcing me to look too close at the minutia and less at the big picture - it obscured the larger picture from my view. It made me get lost in my head - lost in my thoughts - as I tried to navigate through them without tripping over myself or someone else.

When I get like this - and it starts affecting me - I have to step away. I start looking at the world through the fog in my head and it prevents me from seeing things as I should. I withdraw before I do something that prevents me from doing something I regret or responding in a way that I regret. I know that the fog is keeping me from being rational.

I knew this weekend I was not succeeding. I knew I was sending the wrong message or a message that could be seen not as it should. Those who know me best - know to listen and give me what I need. In the end, I decided it was best to go for a run and try to burn off that fog - try to swat at that cat who who had taken his spot in a less than convenient spot.

So, I ran the first mile out of synch. My body felt like my mind. I couldn't find my rhythm. I couldn't find my breathing. I couldn't find my stride. I fought with myself - trying to force my body to do what I needed.

My running route takes me along a gorgeous part of the neighborhood - along a ridge that overlooks the river, the forests in the hills, and the city. I passed the mile mark, rounded the bend, and was struck at how gorgeous of a view it was. The fog was layered - coming into the valley from the ocean - crawling its way into the city - obscuring parts of the gorgeous view. 

There is always a great debate about life imitating art or art imitating nature. At that moment, I felt my mood was being shown in nature. The fog crawling into the city while the sun was trying to break through - trying to chase it away. And me, trying to chase the fog away with my run.

I found my rhythm at that point. I found my breathing. I stopped fighting it - and started going with it. And it felt less like a battle and more fluid. I knew just like I did when watching the sun burn away the fog that the fog would go away. I needed to stop looking at the minutia, and start looking for the sun - looking for the positive and happy. The bad will always be there if you look for it - but so will the sun trying to break through.

Eventually as I got closer to home, I felt that cat in my brain stand up slowly and start stretching as he started moving around getting ready to move on to a better spot.

And I started to think clearly again.

POD - Pizza Hearts

Valentine's Day growing up meant one thing - my mom making my dad a heart cake - made out of yellow cake and covered in frosting - some years chocolate, other years pink.  

She didn't have a heart shaped cake pan - she built the heart out of a square pan and a cake round.  She didn't have a plate big enough, so she would take this huge cutting board she had, wrap it in tin foil, and put it on there.

My parents didn't have a lot of money until we were out of college.  Between my ear problems (while my family was without insurance) and other financial strains, it was all they could do to celebrate valentines day. But my mom - she always knew there was enough in the pantry to make a cake and frost it.  Show her love by making my dad a giant valentine.  

I never know what to give the kids and G for valentine's day.  So, this year, I made them heart shaped pizzas for dinner. The dough was from scratch. The sauce from scratch. Indigo had cheese which is her favorite.  DJ had peperoni which is her favorite. G had a veggie pizza.  It was all very yummy, if I may say so myself.   And they loved the surprise.  It's the little things.

Valentine's Day

Oh, I had aspirations for writing some sappy Valentine's day post to my husband.  

But, it kinda fell flat.

Not because I don't love him - but that's really between the two of us.

Plus, a public display is not needed.

I could have gone the other route - the route where I go on and on about how people shouldn't need a Hallmark holiday to express their affection and such.  

But, it's been done too.

Instead, I started thinking about the valentines I would give those in my life these days.  That combined with my discovery of the candy heart generator, and I decided this would be more entertaining.  Given it is a holiday whose icon is a half naked person flying around shooting arrows at people, a Kinky Valentines Day definitely is more appropriate this year.

Sigh....biting....yes, please.  Might I suggest a few places on my neck. Just don't leave any marks.  Yes, I have long hair to cover it, but it's still hard to explain. 

 No one can claim I am a top. Or even top from the bottom (except maybe G). And I know at least three people who would love to get this one - not that they would need this one to do anything. Ah, the true nature of a top.

Lots of good things can happen when tied up. Oh, yes....lots of good things.....

This one definitely goes to two different people - G is one of them.  TL is the other.  

Over the knee, one hand in my hair or on my neck, the other spanking my ass - hard, fast, slow, stingy....the person who would get this knows who he is.  I can assure you.

To know me is to know - I like my hair pulled.

Not that I would give this one myself, but I can think of some people (ahem, G) who may have a person in mind for it.  Plus, to see the words "rope slut" on a candy heart - priceless.

May your Valentine's Day be fun and kinky.