Sad Again…

Sheesh, i’m sick of this roller coaster.

and i can’t even swear about it because i promised the Man and the wife to work on my “truckers mouth”…sigh.

You remember the other day i had some free time in the City and we couldn’t capitolize on it, right?

I had free time today…close to 2.5 hours of it, in point of fact. And He never commits ahead…it’s just His way…and sometimes it frustrates me because i *am* a planner…i have to be, it’s my nature to plan ahead, and i have a family of 6 to coordinate.

Planning keeps me calm.

Planning keeps me sane.

Planning gives me that almost-tangible feeling that there is some control in my life, yanno?

He counts on me to set up dates and stuff and then either can make it or not.

And by now, after reading this far, and the title…you know today was another “not”.

And i understand it was circumstances beyond His control, make NO mistake i am not at all chiding Him. . .

My favorite saying (as is aisha’s)…”it is what it is”

For me that is a mantra of accepting something that i cannot change. That i must roll with it. But as a girl i dislike saying “roll with the punches” (so i’m a bit sexist about things…bite me…). And as a pagan, i have a very hard time with that poem of Grace that AA uses (God grant me the courage to…however that goes) because i don’t pray to god (no offense to you who do, this too is not a judgement)

So i’m left with “it is what it is”…because it works for me.

I texted that to Him. And added “but i’m still sad.”

So He knows how i feel about it all. And i am sad, very sad. He hopes we can carve out time together …. but really i know i won’t be able to.  This week before Yule is CRAZY, between my work, my family…all the “stuff” that needs to be done..

The week afterwards, my wife is on vacation and will be until after the first of the year. Yay, i can sleep in a bit, which is great, but it really restricts my reading and writing time.  (hoping to do a lot of writing this week)

The soonest i can see Him will be likely the 30th, when i have to kill time in the City while my son has a social obligation.

And i am engaged in an inner snark war with myself. “fine, he doesn’t want to see you so why kill yourself trying to make it happen.”

“let HIM do all the planning”

“Yeah, like that will ever happen”

“but i miss Him (whiney voice)”

*sound of stars*

(silence, ya’ll stars are silent!)

so yeah. i’m sad. and pouty. and whiney. and weepy. and sad.

oh, don’t feel bad for me. Remember this is where i come to vent and piss and moan (thats not a swear its a body function btw)

and get the *&()Y(%$#$ over stuff.

On a happier note…i’m going to try really hard to clear up my backlog of unfinished stories. i have 20 of them in my “to do” box. Some will just be dumped into the dustbin. Some will be finished. Some may have to be shelved if the mood is wrong. But many of them are half-written and i fell out of love with them and stopped. So my resolution for this week is clean up the drafts folder.

i’m heading towards my 1,000th post. (sometime in March). . . and i’m kinda psyched about that.

See, i can still smile through the sad.

g’night…i’m putting on my big girl panties and dealing.


And now for a different spin…

At yoga, the instructor closes our session with a reading. I’m laying on my back, breathing deep and slow, being fully in the moment.  This is the reading from last week, and it struck such a chord with me.

Life Here at the Edge
by Danna Faulds

When love lights a fire in the heart,
don’t be so quick to quell the flames.
To be fully alive is to welcome the
Beloved in countless names and guises,
not turn away the wild with the tame.

Drink your fill of longing. Let
love wash through in waves that
lift you up and carry both your
daring and your fear straight
to unknown places. Yes, there
is danger in not staying safely
cloaked in morality and labels –

But there is life here at the edge,
and choice to be made between
thoughtful abandon and passionate
restraint. The plaintive cry of the
heart can be ignored only at the
price of a fully realized life.

Throw arms wide to possibilities
that move and call you to come
forth in freedom and in fullness.
Trust the seed of grace within to
blossom without sin or sorrow,
for you are surely big enough to
hold the truth as it unfolds.

Is it any wonder that this sang to me as i lay there in total peace, tired yet renewed after the labors of an hour of yoga? To me, TTWD is all about living “on the edge”…for me personally it is the choice of maintaining a relationship with another person, a deeply satisfying physical relationship, outside the bonds of my marriage.

And what a relationship it is!

Full of pain and pleasure. Lessons and learning. He has changed too, gone from the complaisant Sir, to a very Dominant Master. His rules, His way.

For instance, i am never, ever to have chips again. Saturday at work, i read the bag of fritos. They are *corn* chips and i am allowed tortilla chips occasionally because they are corn-based. So i had a few.

And then i thought…uh perhaps i should check.

i hear you right now! You’re thinking, geeze nilla, why the fuck didn’t you check BEFORE you ate one. (let alone 9 of them!)

heh. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. Yeah, sigh,  so i was in trouble for that, with the punishment of no O for nilla on Saturday. And none all day Sunday. We got together Sunday night and He attacked my clit and i came.  And He pinched my “kitties” (what other folks call a spare tire..) mercilessly; and i came from Him doing that.

When i got home, there was a message. ZNN. No more o’s. Didn’t matter that the 2nd one i’d had from him was from pain, and not penetration…it still “counted” —and i was done.

Was that His way…or a tad bit of remembering my place since i’d fucked up on Saturday? i dunno, and really it doesn’t matter. Coz it’s His way, irregardless of His motivations and inspirations.

So, on Sunday night, i gave Him my Christmas presents, because i’m not certain whether we’ll manage to steal some time before the new year. Sad, that the holidays fall when they do, since it negates my reason for heading to the City where we meet….

Anyway…two of the gifts were ones i begged Him to open right away, as they are things for His tree…

The first was a pierced-tin heart, done in red. Me and those fucking hearts, yanno? *smiles*

The second was a little Santa and some greens on a miniature paddle. The whole thing was a bit longer than my hand, so maybe 8 or 9 inches?

Even in the darkness in the back of His car i can see His eyes light up. Oh gods what now…and i didn’t have long to wait. He laughs.

“It’s perfect!” He says, glee in His voice.

‘perfect’ i think, what the fuck does He mean by ‘perfect’? Perfect for what?

He takes my hand and whacks the paddle on it.

Fucking A – OW! Smarts!

He does it again, and several more times. Then does it to the other hand. Okay, it stings. It even hurts when He hits my knuckle (on purpose!)…but i can take this.

“This’ll make a perfect clit smacker!!” He says, and whacks me with that fucking thing again, the hardest smack of all. I imagine this fuckin’ thing hitting my clit. Rut roe….

This presents a huge dilemma.

Do i moan and protest, and thus encourage Him?

Do i nod and say “yes Master”  soft-voiced and accepting, and thus encourage Him because He knows that’s not ‘me’ ?

He laughs, knowing i’m in the midst of trying to figure out what the fuck to say.

i’m kinda stuck at ‘uuuuhhhhh”…..

“I can’t wait until January…” He says and He laughs again.

Oh yay.

The perfect gift, the gift that goes on giving….to me….or actually, to my clit. i’m sure it will be sending me a thank-you card someday soon, don’t you think?

*laughs ruefully*

Yeah. Not.

what, like these aren’t enough implements of torture

that He needs to use Christmas ornaments as weapons now?