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Just Let Me Be a Girl For a Minute

You know when you meet someone and you have that talk that really excites you?  I am not talking about the talk about all the sexy things that makes you both so aroused, although that is there and totally rocks too.  I’m talking about the talk where you walk away thinking “Wow.  I really like them.  That was pretty damn amazing”.  You know the talk where you end the call or Skype or whatever and realize you’d talked for 2 hours and it felt like 10 minutes?  It’s the talk where you find yourself just nodding so much and so many of the things you talk about dovetail.

I had one of those.  :D

dog smile Continue Reading »

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It’s Just a Thing

Isn’t it funny the things you get attached to?  I teared up a bit bringing my car home from my friend’s house tonight.  It was just for a second, but still.

mini at schoolI have to sell the car because the repair bills when something breaks are difficult for me to pay, and I have to sell it now because it’s a stick shift and I broke my foot and can’t drive it.  I’m moving on and just bought a different automatic car that is really awesome and I love.. but still.

It’s the end of an era!  I bought my beautiful mini-cooper S in 2006.  If I could I’d keep it another 10 years.  I have considered learning how to work on it myself so it’d make more sense.  It’s the funnest car I’ve ever driven.  There are faster cars and bigger cars and cars with more utility or whatever.. but my sporty little gem is the funnest car ever.  It has toggle switches!  It has a super charger!  It has sport seats that hug your body while you drive it and it is so responsive it feels like you are WILLING it to go places.  Burning through the gears getting on the freeway feels like you have rockets.  You THINK about turning and it responds.  You feel the road and the panoramic glass and being low like that feels like you are with the road, part of the road.  That alone would make me miss my lovely Clara Bow.  (I named her after the sexy red-headed spit-fire actress from silent film).

But it’s also what she represents. Continue Reading »

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I Admit I’m a Bad Poly Sometimes

Alright.  I admit it.

I just read a blog post by Ginger at Poly Nirvana, called Pout.  It’s here.

She’s talking about her “less than perfect” poly feelings as her love is dating and with this other new girl.  She was sort of sharing and admonishing herself and owning up to her stuff.  That’s always kinda rad.  I am a huge believer that what comes from the heart reaches the heart, and such honest sharing is so useful.  When we pour that stuff out people can relate to it.  It’s human.  And of course, it got me thinking.

tiny home in a clearing made of stone and wood

tiny home in a clearing made of stone and wood

It’s not a pressing matter this second, but I’ve been working on preparing for Traveler to find and date and be with others again.  As far as I know he’s not madly searching for new connections, but I know he’s open to the idea and I think he’d like it.  We talked about it a couple of times and I flipped out about it…twice, sadly.  (I despise that by the way).  Traveler has always been unflinchingly supportive of my dating and sexy exploits and whatever.  He trusts me and supports me, and it’s beautiful.  I want to give him that.  Sometimes I do give him that.  He’s so beautiful, so kind, so sweet and passionate and loving, and he has a special gift for loving that honestly I don’t think it would be right to jealously guard it.  I love him loving his wife and I used to love him loving Peaches.  And it’s a precious thing, to love someone so much that their happiness fills you with joy.  He talks about Quinky Girl sometimes and I just overflow.  He SHOULD have that and she should too.  It’s beautiful.  I love that my love for him includes that.  I love that my love for her does too.  It feels very right.  I feel the same about Cleveland and his wife.  I love my men in part because they are good men that know how to love.

But wives don’t scare me in the same way. Continue Reading »

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Relief!

There is an end in sight.  I will not need surgery they think, and they didn’t mess me up by not having fiberglass casting material, and it’s not in the Jones region as had been predicted, so it should heal pretty well.  Yay!!!

It’s still 4 more weeks of no weight bearing, but that beats the heck outta surgery.

And I’m having fun flirting with a new dude.  We’ll see rabbit.  We’ll see.  So often these things pan into nothing but there is a shocking large amount of overlapping interest.. so I kinda hope it does come to fruition.  He’s dragging his feet a little, balking that I told him my foot is broken I think.. or maybe something else.  He’s cagey and I don’t have it figured out yet.  Eh.  What can you do?  I’m enjoying the flirting.  It’s so much fun to imagine.

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Waiting

I’m sitting in a docs office awaiting my fate. I broke my 5th metatarsal, a jones fracture. I’ve been reading sites (granted mostly sports injury medical sites) that have all these dire predictions and gory surgical pictures and thinking what will I do if x? And how will I get through y? Medical journals are not my friends.

And of course, the answer is that you get through this like you do anything. You lift up your chin and breathe. And you keep breathing. And if you’re lucky, you hold your loves. And maybe try to be ok asking for and accepting help. And remember I’d love to do it for them if they needed me.

And maybe thank them for stuff like this.

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In the End

I love spending time with Cleveland.  I love our communication and humor and affection and sex.  I love the ridiculously excellent way our chemistry works. It’s honestly rarefied stuff to me.

But.

I love him.  I love spending time with him and our little projects and podcasting and all of it.

But.

restrictionsI am always spitting out my horse’s bit.  I rankle at it.  I hate my limits.  I accept them and rail against them and become resigned.  He leaves after a beautiful date, cooking together and snuggling and hot delicious sex and warm conversation and fiery passion.  He gets up and he goes home.  I long ago got used to him leaving and it honestly isn’t that bad. Sometimes I LIKE that I get to curl up in my bed by myself  and watch a little something as I drift off to sleep.

But I hate that it’s pretty much never an option for him to stay in my bed.  I hate that on our last date he was so tired and we were so warm and comfortable and comforting and he had to go.  It’s just how things are.  I hate that he had to leave my arms to go shower all traces of me away and crawl into his bed.  Every single night.  But it’s not really the overnight lack that rankles.  It is, but it isn’t.  It’s that no matter what happens.. no matter what we feel or how things are it will always be in this little box.

I’m sad for the limits.  I’m sad for everything that could be and won’t.  I’m sad for this little box.  It is what it is and I accept it for exactly what it is, and I love him.  I have a choice and I choose this.  In the end, it just makes me a little sad sometimes.

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You can’t keep a good slut down

(Skip this if for ANY reason descriptions of very graphic sex with one of my partners wouldn’t be welcome).

So.. things are looking up.  They pretty much had to.

woman kneeling

Woman kneeling on a stool by Araks Johannes

Yesterday I got my period, which was a HUGE bummer because Traveler and I had hoped for some frisky fun.  We’d had a date the night before and spent most of it car shopping to replace the aging stick shift car I can’t drive and that is killing me when it has repairs.  We’d had dinner with Quinky Girl and chilled a bit at their house so she could see him too after he was gone all week, and she’d been thoughtful and cooked for everyone.  We got back home pretty late and fell into bed.  I felt sad and broken and sore.  It’d been a long crutching day and a lot of running around and even if it had been a good day, it had still left me sore and beaten. I broke down and cried in his arms.  It was just that when we’d finally crawled into bed and he’d held me, my guard dropped. It’s just so exhausting and difficult.  It’s a lot more life altering than I thought.  So there weren’t sexy times Thursday, but there were equally lovely things with our short time.  He talked to me.  He told about life and stuff with him and he talked to me about all the ways he needs me.

Traveler told me how much he needs me!!  I just filled with love, overflowed.  We held each other then like holding each other was the only thing stopping our death.  Snuggling and cuddling are not adequate to describe the intimate thing we did, the eye contact, the kisses and comfort and touch.  And after all the loving words and caresses I’d needed so badly, we fell asleep tangled together and slept like the dead.

So, as perfect as Thursday night had truly been, after a week away from Traveler and a week of healing I was really looking forward to some more carnal connections with my love the next night, Friday. Continue Reading »

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