I'm lustful this evening. Horribly, naughtily, awfully lustful.

And I need you.

I feel like my sexuality is slowing coming back to me - the light blowing gusts of a spring breeze that causes me to extend my face into the air to feel as much of it as possible.

I reached over and took Bear's beautiful cock into my hand last night. I felt it, warm and soft, and coaxed it to life with tiny squeezes and strokes.

I wasn't looking for anything - I'm happy with re-introducing sex into our physically flawed relationship in small doses - but it was nice to know that he still responds to me in that manner.

I wanted, for a brief moment, to feel the sensation of our polar opposites. Wet soaking dry... soft over hard... male into female.

I think I'm finally getting my life back.

I've got the photography bug again. I'm thinking I may take some more pictures of myself - some nice pin-up shots that focus on my best, ahem, assets.

After talking about how I don't write for the kudos, I'm feeling the need for a little gratuitous back patting.

"... solitude is such a potential thing. We hear voices in solitude, we never hear in the hurry and turmoil of life; we receive counsels and comforts, we get under no other condition ..."

- Amelia Barr

I've tried a few times to begin this entry, but I'm just feeling so light and carefree that I can't put my exact emotions into words.

I spent the day alone today. Bear had to drive a few hours away to make a social security doctor's appointment (oh yes, the infinite wisdom of the government. Let's make a man who can barely make cross-town doctor's appointment without being in severe pain drive HOURS away to be certified as 100% disabled. Fucking geniuses!), so I was by myself from the time I dropped my daughter off at school until then time I had to pick her back up.

It was, in a word, AMAZING.

I spent the time picking up, watching television, doing laundry and (of course) masturbating. I had GREAT orgasms because I wasn't worried about being quiet. I used my poor, lonely rabbit vibrator and made myself come over and over. When my cunt was twinging too hard to reinsert my pink friend, I gave up and ran some errands.

I played music as loud as I wanted. It was freeing. Don't get me wrong, I love Bear. I like being around him. But this was my first time alone in my own apartment for probably a year, at least for more than an hour. It was just what I needed, and we need to figure out a way to continue that pattern.

Create. Clicking that button on my blogger account provides me with both pleasure and nervousness. Will I have any words spill forth onto the page? Will my usually fertile mind be a blank slate?

One of my largest fears is having nothing to say... feeling nothing. My writing doesn't spring from a shallow place; it has nothing to do with comments and popularity and meeting people. I write because I have to. I need to have something, anything to say. If I don't, I'm worried I'll fall back in line with the endless masses of people slowly suffocating to death in their mundane and boring 2.5 children white picket fences lives.

Today I was pondering routines and motivation. I always mean to do these great things with my life - I want to lose some weight, get my home more organized, cook at home more than I eat out any given week - and I do them. For awhile. After a week or so, without outside motivation, I crack and turn back to whatever I was doing before.

That was one positive thing about living in an active BDSM relationship. I felt driven to please and I wanted to change whatever needed to be changed to make him happy. It's unfortunate that we've slipped out of those patterns although, to be fair, I'm not anywhere near as submissive as I used to be.

I'll come back around again, I'm sure.

I'm the consummate people pleaser. Recently at work, my boss told me that I have the type of personality that makes people want to reach out and touch me (and believe me, even in my line of work, they still have). I'm the one they call up front when clients have issues. While I can be physically aggressive and have gotten in my fair share of altercations in my life (to put it mildly), I'm also immensely capable of pulling out my best doe-eyed, everything is going to be just fine personality to immediately soothe and calm even the most difficult person.

It's not something I'm proud of, necessarily. I have a variety of different personalities, all that fit me for various circumstances, but none that I'm really choose to wear longterm. I can be sweet, I can be mean, I can always get what I want when I want it, but I'd rather just be chill and be me.

I'm not sure if the more recent swing towards the zen side of the scale is because of the yoga I've been immersing myself in or if I decided to seek out the yoga to fit me in that manner but, whatever the reason, I'm finding myself VERY laid back lately.

Unless you piss me off.

Wow.

I collect girls. It's pretty amazing to me.

It's almost humorous to me, looking back on past websites and words that have flowed (sometimes violently and sometimes smoothly) from my mind and into physical form, how sexually free I used to be.

I almost don't recognize myself in those words, like this one from nearly a year ago...

"I knew as soon as he kissed me that it was a kiss with intent. Kisses of affection, kisses that bind us together in domestic life and partnership, have been the most common lately. This sort of kiss, filled with abandon and promise, was more than that.

It's no secret that I haven't been "doing the deed," as it were, quite as often as I'd like. I have a rather epic sex drive that is impossible to match or exceed for most people but, during our good periods, Bear has (literally) risen to the challenge.

Needless to say, I was a little hesitant to give in to his unspoken promises. To put it bluntly, the only thing worse than not fucking is starting to fuck and being put off. I'm simply not the type of girl who enjoys that.

But the hair pulling and choking that followed the kiss, well, I'm the just the type of girl who enjoys that sort of thing. And multiple orgasms... let's just say that they're high on my list of "to do's."

It's nice to be reminded that we're not roommates, and I've forgotten just how much I need a strong man in the bedroom. It was a wonderful weekend."

I mean, that was only a year ago. Things have changed SO much in that regard in only a year, with minimal health advances. I'm a little bummed, so to speak, but looking through past entries has also reminded me that when the weather starts to get warm I seem to go through a bit of melancholy until I move forward to embrace the season.

Eh.

"It just seems like you agree to have a certain personality or something. For no reason. Just to make things easier for everyone. But when you think about it, I mean, how do you know if it's even you?"

"People always say how you should be yourself, like yourself is this definite thing. Like a toaster, or something. Like you can know what it is, even. But every so often, I'll have, like, a moment, when just being myself in my life, right where I am, is, like, enough."

I feel like Angela Chase today. If you don't know who that is, I recommend rushing out to purchase My So Called Life on DVD as soon as possible. Angela Chase sums up my high school career (although I did tend to be a bit more like Rayanne) in a way that no other pop culture event has.

I'm WAY in my head recently. I'm stuck there, cocooned in thoughts and emotions and introverted ideas, thinking thinking thinking instead of living in the moment like the good Buddhist in me insists I should.

I'm not entirely sure where it's come from, either. Mainly a sense of feeling lost, presently, stuck in a cycle I can clearly see but am unable to crawl free from. I'm this unique person with all these thoughts, both healthy and unhealthy, but I'm constantly being pigeonholed into this personality that doesn't really fit or feel comfortable on me.

Right now, I don't even know what I want. I don't know how much of my desperation steams from this need to fit in or be who everyone seems to think I am, and how much of it is my genuine self.

It kind of sucks, to be crass for a moment.

I'm hoping my murky picture becomes clearer soon...

I worked my usual overnight last night, coming in my perfunctory 5 minutes late, and was greeted by a happy, tail wagging, big black dog in one of the bottom cages.

"Awww...." I said to myself.

I stepped closer to check him out and saw the clipboard sitting on the corner of the x-ray table, the scarlet letter pronouncing his impending death for all to see.

I sighed to myself. This wasn't the usual donor day, but we had just used both bags of canine blood the week previous to save the life of a 10 year old Great Pyranees with a baseball sized hemangionsarcoma mass on his intestine.

If this adorable boy was going to be dispatched to the sweet hereafter, I was going to at least make his last few hours on earth comfortable. I raided the refrigerator and came upon a coworker's stash of cheese cubes. Said coworker, who will remain nameless, is considered by the majority of employees at my work to be heartless and just generally callous with the lives of the living creatures entrusted to her care. Her cheese was a sacrifice I was willing to make.

The cheese cubes were snarfed down within seconds and the tail never stopped wagging. He looked at me with his big pleading chocolate eyes and I called Michelle to complain.

"We have a donor dog," I began. She responded with her usual sigh and a few choice words that echoed my feelings exactly.

When she arrived at 6 pm, we took him out (now named Harley) and drew blood. He just sat there on the floor, happy as could be, letting me poke his cephalic veins while he tried to lick all the skin off of Michelle's face. His blood tests all came back normal and clean. While the seconds counted down, Michelle and I got more and more attached and less and less willing to let this handsome boy meet his untimely death.

"We've got to be able to do something," Michelle said, disheartened.

Now, lucky for me (and Harley!) one of my close friends, for all intents and purposes, the shelter manager at the local Humane Society. I called her up, spent a few minutes on the phone with her (answering the usual questions - neutered, good with food/touching, any obvious behavioral problems, etc.) and was informed that, as long as I checked with Animal Control, we would be able to take him on Monday.

Luckily for us, about 5 minutes after I hung up the phone our boss walked in. I was kind of nervous about asking her, since we only have the ability to get so many blood donor dogs a week, but she was all for it provided everyone was happy at all three of our places of business.

Michelle hopped on the phone with an employee that also works at Animal Control, got the skinny on our dear boy (abandoned with his brother - the owners had no money to take care of them anymore), got the ok to hold him there until my friend could pick him up on Monday. The Dr. on duty neutered him free of charge, we still got a bag of blood from him (with no side effects - just the same as a human donating) and the rest is history!

High fives were slapped, trust me on that one.

I dropped him off at Animal Control this morning and the hardest part was leaving him, watching those sad chocolate eyes wonder why another family was abandoning him. I wish I could explain that we saved his life and that he was going to have a GREAT chance at having a wonderful family. It's enough that I know that.

And, of course, I brought my daughter and she LOVED him and he loved her (his previous family had little girls her age). She cried this morning after we left and told me, on her way into her classroom, that she was going to cry again a lot today. I feel bad for her, on the selfish level that makes parents never want to see their children hurt, but I'm really proud that I've raised such a compassionate kid!

The best part of this chapter is, because of our (Michelle and myself) empathetic nature and motivation to see a happier end to this story, his brother is also getting another chance at life.

Let me just tell you, I'm BEAMING with pride.

Here's our handsome man, by the way...





Just remember, nothing is ever set in stone and it NEVER hurts to try. :)