missrenie: (Tree of Knowledge)
2011-11-23 10:47 am

Death of Hero and Rebirth of Self









It's always sad when a hero dies.

But its heart wrenching when that hero "dies" to you... when you have to change how you see them or sever yourself from them in defense.

I'm angry because it did not have to be this way.

There are alot of things I did wrong partially because I have never had to deal with such an exhausting personality so closely. But even with my lack of experience the only thing I can honestly apologize for it holding you up to those hero standards. You didn't ask to be my hero its something that kinda happened. It was unfair of me to think of you as such.  You have made me stronger and you've shown me how to confront on the battle field of life.  I'm not sure that lesson would have reached me if you did not have the capacity to be such a bully. 

In the near future when I am not so angry, injured or indignant I will tell you that you lack the compassion you expect to receive from others, that you lack the respect you demand from others and that once you attained your future would be limitless for this is the key to your success.  In my dream world you would listen and hear and change and go on to touch the world in the same positive way in which you have changed and touched mine.

I'm not doing this for you, for your acceptance, for your love, for your respect although I know I was at one point.  I would have loved to have these things that I had so readily given over to you.   Now I am in it for the mission, the cause, the right reasons.



So here's to you!!

You're brilliant and talented full of charisma and inspiration.  You were my hero but you killed that by continually being such a flaming bitch.  To be completely melodramatic you're some weird hybrid of Jesus and Judas both...I'm thankful even for that. 


You've shown me that heroes are painfully human.
You've shown me that I can be one too. 
You've shown me that I can and should be my own.

missrenie: (Default)
2011-11-18 01:24 pm

Vegan Thanksgiving #1: How to get you and your sweet potatoes drunk

Disclaimer:
I am a bit devil-may-care in the kitchen.  I get really hyped or tipsy as I cook and neglect to use little things like measurements.  My education wasn’t learned from a book but watching my mom and aunt in the kitchen. Things were not written down.  In the south- well definitely in my family if you wanted to learn how to cook a dish you went into the kitchen and watched them do it.  You didn’t speak, offer advice or give them your take.  You chopped onions if they trusted you enough to do that. 
In my case I chopped onions while trying to take nips from the Jack Daniel's we were using to flavor the damn thing.
 
I promise to write out the next few recipes with daRuz.  He’s really good about things like measurements and baking times and temperatures and not getting all tipsy while trying to get the meal to the table.
 
 
 
It's my first Vegan Thanksgiving and I'm trying to figure out ways to convert my traditional Southern favorites into vegan friendly delights. 

Can't be done!! says you
Vegan and Southern in the same sentence are you smoking crack?! says you.

Bite me!
and then bite into my dinner
both will be fucking delicious says I
 
Jack Daniel’s Sweet Potatoes


 
Ingredients:
4 to 5 large sweet potatoes
½ Jack Daniel’s or Kentucky Bourbon
¼ Orange Juice
Vegan Butter
Spice Blend
 
Spice blend (pick your poison and flavor to taste)
Sweet: (start with 2 tsp of each) cinnamon, nutmeg, pumpkin pie spice, tbsp brown sugar, tbsp honey
Spicy: (start with a tsp of each) cardamom, cinnamon, ginger, turmeric
Sizzle: coriander, cumin, chili powder, turmeric
 
Preparation:

Cut the potatoes in half length wise, bake them at like 375 for 30-40 until soft

Remove the skins while they are still warm or cold depends on how hard core you are

Mash the hell out of them with two tablespoons of fake vegan butter substance your jack and orange juice.  Add more of either liquid until you get it loose and all "mash potatoey" like. I would add more liquor since that seems to be a great at getting things/people to loosen up easily

Mix in your spice blend of choice and pour into an oven safe dish


Butter your baking dish and pop that bastard in the oven and bake at 350 for 20 to 30 mins or until hot and bubbly like … take a shot or two of whiskey while you wait

Highly recommended options for putting oneself into a sugar induced comma

Before baking cover with a light dusting of brown sugar, drizzle with honey and pats of butter
or
Cover with a mixture of ¼ cup brown sugar, ½ cup oatmeal, 3 tbsp of butter in cute little tiny pats



Extra credit: take an orange and zest the outside of it into your potatoes.  In the name of all things holy wash the damn thing first and don't zest past the white part under the skin or your dish will taste like bitter ass.  Instead of using bottled orange juice slice that bad boy open and squeeze the juice in.  Ann Burrell has this bass ass trick where she pierces the orange half with her butcher knife and squeezes the juice out.  While I don't recommend this unless you are a pro or have insurance or dull ass knife I will admit to trying it while my boyfriend's back was turned.... it was awesome.
missrenie: (steam)
2011-09-28 06:37 pm
Entry tags:

My Big 3 0

I just turned 30

About five years ago I told myself that by time I turned 30 I would weigh x amount of weight.
It was going to be my gift to myself. Finally conforming and squeezing my body into what was "socially acceptable"

But some things happened. My life changed and the only weight I lost was 165ish pounds of boyfriend who held me down, and back and at the same time up to some incredibly impossible standards.

In fact I've gained.
Joy, happiness, fierceness and part of that comes from being able to show the world what I once hated so much

My body.

I had not realized how much everything centered around my body.
My ability to hold my head up in a job interview,
Shame was eating at a restaurant,
Anger was trying on clothes,
Fear was take a trip
Embarrassment was meeting my partner's friends and family.

It was inescapable... this all encompassing adipose. I hated it, I hated me.

I wish I could tell you what changed.
I wish I could tell you how I changed.
Its too much like that "Dune" quote. The one about passing through your fear and looking back and seeing nothing because only you remain.

Well only I remain.
I am not ashamed to touch my body now
Can you imagine how seriously fucked up that is? Being ashamed to touch your own body?
The weight of no longer being repulsed by my own weight was heavier to me than my actual hips and thighs
and ass

I can look in the mirror and see what I look like and not compare that to what I wanted to look like.
I can see my own face sans the superimposed silhouette of societies views

To some people my fat says that I am lazy, that I eat three times the amount a "normal" person would eat, that I am sick or shut in, that I am depressed or stupid because obviously I do not love myself or want anyone else to love me either, that I have been abused in some way... that I need to be fixed.

but I'm not broken
there are no mental issues, I'm not diabetic nor do I suffer from hypertension, I am vegetarian and borderline vegan who eats all her meals home cooked and full of veggies,I exercise, I dance and sing, my week days are long and I doubt you could keep up with me on the weekend...

See that was the defensive side of me. The one side that feels like I have to explain or excuse myself. Because people sneer at me

People sneer at me
because I am fat
because I am black
because I am nappy headed
because I have the nerve to be HAPPY while being all of the above


The really fucked up thing about this is that deep down and somewhere inside I believed them.

I don't anymore.

I'm angry and I'm motivated. I don't think that is being reflected in the wording or the tone of this post but I am. Its this slow burning thing that's heating up all my blood and skin and bones but instead of turning it inward it's going right where it belongs

To the judgmental sizest cunt faces, the dick headed fat-o-phobes, the assholes, the haters... I don't owe you anything aside from my foot up your ass.

I just turned 30
I'm finally at home in my body
I just turned 30
and it looks damn good on me
missrenie: (burlesque)
2011-03-28 01:39 pm

This is why I do it :)

Because being part of something larger than yourself, that challenges you and forces you to grow is a powerful experience

Because the burlesque community is comprised of artist twisted creative compassionate genius and it is a pure fucking honor to be among their ranks.

Because years from now when I am old and grey I can look back and say I had the ovaries to do it

Because years, weeks, days from now when things go all pear shaped I can call on any one of these powerful women and they would have my back

Because who needs prozac, zoloft or a stiff drink when you can go to sleep with the remnants of a roaring, screaming, cheering crowd still ringing in your ears.

Because years ago someone told me that I was ugly, that I couldn't dance, that no one would love me, that no one would listen to me that I wasn't special....
and every time I step on that stage
I'm sending them the
bestest
biggest
fuck you


ever.



awesome photo of Rubenesque Burlesque by Johnny Crash check him out at http://www.johnnycrashphotography.com/
missrenie: (Default)
2011-03-25 01:55 pm
Entry tags:

Writer's Block: It must be love

[Error: unknown template qotd]

My first boyfriend doesn't count because he never “crushed” me...
My first was in first grade and he used to stand on the lunch room table and scream "I’m in love with Irene McCalphin" 
It was utterly embarrassing.
 
Not to mention that he got detention for it every time.  I would wait for him after school standing next to his mother who was this impossibly tall and willowy fair thing.  I'd clutch my backpack and rock on my heels as I would explain to her how he had done it again. 

We had a fairly dramatic breakup.  I caught him walking home with another girl.  I was infuriated.  I mean we had been kissing behind the telephone poll on the playground for the better part of six months, at the school's spring fair he had given me fake pearl clips for my shoes that I had mistaken for earrings.  He would also give me flowers.  Not ones ripped up from some neighbor’s garden mind you. No, store bought ones wrapped in noisy clear and yellow cellophane. My mother was already shaking her had and telling me that we were going to have a zebra childen (which was something I would have nightmares about for years until I knew better. Like actually dreaming about fully grown zebras poping out of my vagina).
 
Anyway the next day after I saw him walking home with her while holding hands we had a shouting match with each other in the lunch line.  I had an elegant vocabulary for a 6 year old on account of all the National Public Radio my mother forced fed me and an imagination fed by 5 years of scandalous ever present soap operas which was a constant on Auntie Bessie's TV screen.  And he... well 11 years later he came out of the closet so you can just imagine what he hurled in my direction.


I was upset

But I was never crushed.  I was too self possed at that age to imagine that the other girl was "the better woman"; that someone could compete, that someone could honestly tell me no.  No, that came much later.


I didn't crush until I was 10.

He was tall and dark like oak tree branches after the noon rain
He was quick like lightening dancing across the sky.

We had grown up together since1st grade We lived on the same street but not the same block. His side of the street smelled constantly of Tabasco and the potholes seemed to be bigger and better for splashing around in.  I would go to his house with my brother sometimes.  He would go in and I would linger on the outside and peek in through the screen door until my brother would shout at me to go away.

He was the first guy I shared a lollipop with. I will also admit that for some reason after that incident I was convinced that I was pregnant or stricken with some horrible std because I had done such a thing with a boy.


I actually pined.

I created little scenarios in my mind.

Standing in front of my mirror I would tie my school shirt up above my waist and stick out my non existence chest and say things like "Oh no I couldn't, oh no I shouldn't, what would mother say?" 

It took months (the equivalent of years) for me to work up the nerve to tell him that I liked him.  It was after school.  We were walking home as usual.  We took the longer way around that meant that we would pass the corner store on our way.  He got one of those pickles soaked in jalapeño juice. My brother had his usual laffy taffies and I decided to stick to the flavorless sugar rush of a candy cigarette.   I had it all planned out.  I was going to stumble into him and when he reached out to stop my fall and take me into his arms I would look up at him for a prolonged second before telling him how I felt.

It didn’t happen that way
not
at
all

I stumbled beautifully
He side stepped quickly .
I face planted painfully

My school skirt flipped above my waist broadcasting that today was Wednesday despite the calendar’s insistence that it was Friday.  This meant I had to wait at least another month to try again… enough time for them to stop laughing at me  every time we passed the corner store.  The next time I tried I was abrupt and straight to the point.  I took him to the side as we walked home and told him how I felt.

He ran away from me

Like fucking literally
that bastard took off at a gait I could not hope to follow.  All the while screaming something that I couldn’t quite catch.  I took it for a no.  I was heartbroken, crushed, demoralized for about a week.

Then we got a new transfer student in.  He was an older boy who had to make up some classes.  Everyone thought he looked a little funny because of this mole he had but I thought it look distinguished.  It took me two months to tell him and I did so with little reservation.  I had felt the sting of rejection, the dull thud of slamming my palm into my forehead and repeating the mantra “idiot, idiot, idiot”  I had become fearless

… and I was prepared. 

When this guy ran I chased him
for three years I chased him. 

I never caught him but his dad made him give me the last dance after 8th grade graduation. 
 


I considered that a win.
missrenie: (Default)
2011-03-02 05:06 pm
Entry tags:

IQ Tests and Bot Failure

Fucking Yahoo

V
: you there?

Me
: hi hun!!! how are you?

V: will you do me a quick favor and take an IQ quiz for a project im doing?

Me
: omg I may fail... whats the project?
 
 
Bot?: I need to see how many people out of my friends get over a 115.

Me
:groovy is it for school?

Bot?
: just go to XXXXX and take the test.. if you do ill owe you big time.

Me
:no prob but I hate to be this way... its been so long and someone recently hacked my account and I wanna be sure that you are you and not a bot so if you answer this question I will do it: What was I called in the senor segment?

Bot
:im not hacked!

Me
:you are so hacked if you can't answer that question and im totally calling you right now and your sister to let them know

Dumb Ass Bot: please let me know what score you get. thanks so much


 
missrenie: (Default)
2011-02-24 02:36 pm

Haunted

I have been for the past three years a woman haunted.
Haunted, followed, shadowed by this shade that refuse to let me go. This thing that screams look at me
see me
avenge me

I did not know this until yesterday
3 years ago I misdiagnosed myself as crazy, unhinged and simply bitter... needing for education in the fine art of processing
guidance in the rituals of letting go.

I prayed, sang feverish songs, made smoke offerings to my gods to make the anger fade
Sometimes a few months would go by peaceful and then it would come back
You would come back
I was frustrated with myself
Angry that I was letting you get to me
get in me
I wanted you out of me
Yesterday I realized that it was not you
it was me

Tyler Perry recently butchered a brilliant play by Ntozake Shange... seriously if the woman were dead she would be rolling in her grave over what Perry did to her amazing choreopoem. I winced my way through the horrible things that struck too close to home. I put up shields and focused on his flaws at directing. The way he made black women into broken empty shells.
I bitched and nagged instead of listening to the prolific prose but towards the end a phrase reached right through me and into me and shattered me thoroughly "Somebody almost walked off with all my stuff... Somebody almost walked off with all my stuff and didn't even know they had it"

The freshest of the scabs ripped back
and I poured out
That's me
That's me running behind you screaming: Hey give me my stuff back! You tread all through me and that thing you have dragging at the bottom of your shoe
that's mine
that's me
give it back

I became a new person to fill the space of the person that I no longer was
I made new stuff.
Instead of going back to salvage the tattered bits of me I left the person I no longer wanted to be behind

I demonized her. I told myself that she was weak for staying so long, that she was stupid for taking all that shit for so long that she deserved everything that she was dealt that she asked for it though an ill conceived notion of love and it was her punishment for not listening to her mother and the wise women who had gone before her, suffered and survived.
Stupid, silly, bitch.
Now had this woman not been me I would have been softer. I would have been kinder. I would have rallied to her, swept her into my arms, been harbor in the hurricane, nurtured and loved but it was not another woman. It was me. And I did not at that time in my life have the grace to forgive myself so I killed myself.
Buried myself in an unmarked grave.
“You’ve changed” a friend would say “You are not who you used to be” and I would always respond. Of course not. This is the new me I killed the waste of space that was here before.

I was proud
And haunted.
Unable to sleep, to dream, to slow down to be still because she was at my heels demanding that I see her, respect her, save her, reclaim her.
She was still being drug across hot summer cement on the back of his fucking shoe.
I was still being drug across hot summer cement on the back of his fucking shoe.

I was not weak... I was strong enough to withstand with myself intact
I was not stupid... I was smart enough to leave.
I did not deserve what happened.
I did not deserve what happened.
What I do deserve is to give to myself to same compassion that I would give to someone else.
What I do deserve is to understand deep in my soul that I am not the solely to blame.
What I do deserve is to claim this broken piece of me and remake myself whole.
missrenie: (Default)
2011-01-12 10:30 pm
Entry tags:

Personal Truth # 8: Love is

Sometimes I look at you and I wonder how it happened

 

I wonder if you see it as mystical and as magical as I do.  I wonder if you notice how everything had to come into synergy for us to be the way we are with each other now.

 

For the better part of a decade I thought I knew what love was.  It was tolerance, sacrifice, not kicking the other person when they were down.  It was caring for, cleaning up after, pushing and pulling and changing drastically for the "us", the unit, the team.  I thought that love was achieving the impossible.  That love didn't happen every day  so it had to be held onto, maintained, protected and kept guilelessly pure even if the vessel rotted around it. 

 

I thought it was convoluted.

complicated.

 

 

You've shown me that I was terribly wrong

Love is simple.

Painfully simple

 

You do not protect and maintain  it.  IT protects and maintains you. It purifies you and give you a hope with which you can achieve the impossible.  It gives you the ability to endure and change.  To yield instead of pull... to push so gently that dust remains unsettled while breaking through an immovable mountain.

 

It is the honesty to tell each other the truth even if you are down, to give everything you have while sacrificing nothing.

It is perpetual motion while standing perfectly still

 

It is not romantic

or at least not nearly as romantic as I was lead to believe

It is real

It is blissfully mundane and in that lies it magic

Love happens everyday... that's fucking important to remember so I'll type it again.  Love happens everyday.

 

It's the warm hand adjusting the seam of your black fishnet stockings, or the careful yet ample application of glitter spray to a nervous, giggly body.  It's the battle cry of "Vajazzle" and "I live" 

It's a tolerated snore in your ear or drool on your shoulder

 

It's in reconnection and forgiveness. 

It's a shared night that we may never talk about again but think about every-time we see each other and smile. 

 

It's a bag of snap peas you didn't have to get

the extra tip you gave

or refused to take. 

 

It's the in following text:

"Where you at bitch? Dead in a ditch?  I haven't hear from you since go was a child"

It's telling me I have something stuck between my two front teeth.

 

It's taking my car and forcing me to call in sick when I am.  It's reminding me of me when I have lost myself.  You remember the little things and you are present for the big ones.

 

It's your breath against my neck at 2am

 

the sound of your voice over the phone at midnight

 

It's the open  invite to dinner or lunch or breakfast even though I never quite seem to have the time.

 

It's letting me feel safe enough to painfully vulnerable and trusting me to be powerfully strong for you.

 

It's letting go

It's refusing to let go

 

It's in seeing my faults and filling those empty spaces with your own unique perfection and allowing me the privilege of doing the same for you.

 

Thank you

I'm a better person

because of you~~~

missrenie: (Tree of Knowledge)
2010-12-22 10:03 pm

Converstations with God #2

Let go

~What

Let go

~Dude I totally heard You... let go of what?

Everything

~Goddammn't

What?

~That esoteric crap again?!

Okay... do you want me to explain?

~Yep... you know mortal brain and all not as complex as Yours

I know... kinda sucks to be you.  When I say let go of everything I mean let go of everything you ever thought yourself to be, everything you ever wanted yourself to be.  Realize that what you are going through is nothing.

~woooooooooooow I'd rather have the esoteric thing than this nihilistic shit

I'm not done yet... All this is an illusion.

~Hah!  You're telling me that all these bills piling up on my head, all these dark thoughts and dead ends and hopelessness is an illusion!  Well You're illusions seem pretty real to me!

You're angry

~Hell yes I am... what did I ever do to You to deserve all of this?

It's not about what you did... its about what you didn't do.

~What more could You want from me?!  What more can You demand?!  Just tell me and I'll do it.  Just stop with these fucking "illusions" of Yours.

Dramatic much?  First of all those are your illusions... I haven't got a thing to do with them and second I've only asked you for one thing darlin of Mine and that is to love yourself.

~If I did that would it stop

No... that's not how it works... life won't stop but you will be able to handle it better.

~I'm so tired

I know

~I don't like this ride anymore

I know

~I want to get off... and not in a sexual way

I know

~Will it get better?

It will... and then it will get worse again

~You're not helping...

I will once you help yourself.  Stop feeling sorry for yourself hun, stop running away, stand up and fight for everything you want.  I've given you everything you need

~But You just told me to let go of everything

I told you to let go of the illusion... the illusion that it can't be done, won't be done, that all you are is what you are ever going to be, that your current dreams and goals are your ceiling.  No one likes to hit their ceiling... its terrifying... trust me I totally understand.  I mean I am God after all.   You're putting off for as long as possible reaching what you think is your peak because you think there is nothing left after that. It's stupid.

~oh... k... anything else

Yeah go to bed.  Tomorrow is gonna come whether you like it or not.  Aaaaaaaaaaand its gonna suck so you might as well have all your wits about you when it does. 

~hah now you sound like my Vulcan.

He's a part of you so he is a part of Me too now.

~That makes me feel better

I know.  Look darlin the moon is coming back and in time so will you.
missrenie: (Default)
2010-12-17 12:35 pm
Entry tags:

Personal Truth #?: Happiness

Truth # I've lost count
(Last nights dream)

Happiness: 
Different for everyone, the same for most.  It normally involves attaining the things we talk ourselves out of, sabotage from our lives and rationalize out of reality.




Hi

~Hi, I'm depressed

I know

~How do you know

Because I'm you silly.  I'm your Divine self

~Really... you look amazing, 

I am

~Seriously your skin is fantastic

Yeah ummm ooooooookay so I know the secret to happiness and I'm going to give it to you

~You're the greatest

Not so fast.  I can sense you figuring out how you can market this info to make ends meet but I'm not giving you the secret to "Happiness"  just the secret to your happiness

~(deflated) Yeah sure bring it on

Make a decision, forget the money, self publish if you have to,  give to get, thrive to survive, don't procrastinate, exercise, spawn offsping and have lot and lots of sex.... sorry great sex.  Have lots and lots of great sex.

~Anything else

Trust in love

~Well that last bit is sorta fucking esoteric don't you think

What the hell do you expect you ingrate Im God after all

~Hmpf

Hmpf what

~Well I knoooow I'm doing at least one thing right

Jackass

~What!?

Grow up

~Is that part of the list too

No actually

~What else?

What do you mean what else?

~Well it seems like a short list

You will have your hands full with that

~How can You be sure

Beside that fact that I am God She says  tossin a thick mane of ever changing hair over her naked violet shoulder  You're how old?

~29

Right pushing thirty.... you've had 3 decades to work on this list and you've only got one thing going for you

~Yeah but its a hell of a thing am I right!

She rolls her iridescent  eyes to the top of her head just before she disappears in a poof of smoke that smells vaguely of cinnamon.


~God, God, God.... hello?  Damn't  You're just like my mom!!!!!
missrenie: (Default)
2010-11-22 10:35 am

Books <3

Have you read more than 6 of these books? The BBC believes most people will have read only 6 of the 100 books listed here.

Instructions: Copy this into your NOTES. Bold those books you've read in their entirety, italicize the ones you started but didn't finish or read an excerpt. Tag other book nerds. Tag me as well so I can see your responses.

 

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen 

2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien

3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte

4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling

5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee

6 The Bible

7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte

8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell

9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman

10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens

11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott

12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy

13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller

14 Complete works of Shakespeare

15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier

16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien

17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk

18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger

19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger

20 Middlemarch - George Eliot

21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell

22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald

24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy

25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams

27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck

29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll

30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame

31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy

32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens

33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis  

34 Emma -Jane Austen

35 Persuasion - Jane Austen

36 The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - CS Lewis

37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini

38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres

39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden

40 Winnie the Pooh - A.A. Milne

41 Animal Farm - George Orwell

42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown  

43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving

45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins

46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery

47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy

48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood

49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding

50 Atonement - Ian McEwan

51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel

52 Dune - Frank Herbert  

53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons

54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen

55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth

56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon

57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens

58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley

59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon

60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck

62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov

63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt

64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold

65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas

66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac

67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy

68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding

69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie

70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville

71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens

72 Dracula - Bram Stoker

73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett

74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson

75 Ulysses - James Joyce

76 The Inferno - Dante

77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome

78 Germinal - Emile Zola

79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray

80 Possession - A.S. Byatt

81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens

82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell

83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker

84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro

85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert

86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry

87 Charlotte’s Web - E.B. White

88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom

89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton

91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad

92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery

93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks

94 Watership Down - Richard Adams

95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole

96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute

97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas

98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare

99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl

100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo

missrenie: (Default)
2010-10-27 01:59 am

Good Timing

"They're everywhere" You state
"Who" I ask
"Those kids... "

I pause and look up at you.  You are grimacing slightly.  It is painfully cute and I want to laugh.  
"You do know what we are doing right... I mean... seriously"
"This is different"  you snort  almost indignantly
"This is childish" 


A tiny ring rises up from the bin.
"Hmmm that's too early are you setting them right?"
"I think so... probably not"
"The trick is to turn to the ten and then back down to the five"
"Alright"

I do as you say but I know I mess up on some... I'm too busy stealing glances at you. We work in tandem.  We work in silence.  I stop occasionally to place my ear to the bin. It's ticking like a bomb and buzzing like hive and sizzling like a choir full of kids sucking on poprocks during a quiet prayer.  I notice some women looking at us funny but it doesn't matter. 

I'm riding on the wings of your high.

One of mine go off early again and I apologize.  You smile.  You grab my hand and weave your fingers through mine while muttering something about spatulas.   We are browsing two aisles away when the first of the multicolored egg timers go off.  I think it is another mistake until it is quickly followed by another and another.  I nearly bite my own tongue. I think I am going to explode from holding in the laughter and the embarrassment.  I turn into you, wanting to hide my face in your chest. 

"Keep it together." you whisper.
"I can't" I manage to wrestle the worlds out. 

My face hurts and I know I am smiling from ear to ear.  When I look up at you you seem to be having just as hard a time.  So we make our retreat to textiles.  I would have run but you kept us at a very non obvious brisk walk while I giggled and stared at the floor.


"They are going to haaaaaaaaate us"
"Yep" I agree
  
I'm sure our little adventure aggravated some and amused others but I don't care.  I'm in the moment.  I'm mindful in an almost Buddhist way  feeling my  heart tick like a bomb, buzz like a hive and sizzle like a choir full of kids sucking on poprocks during a quiet prayer.

While all those timers were going off
time stopped
it stopped
it slipped
it tripped back
and suddenly I'm a child again
just a giddy girl
holding the hand of a boy
with lips turned up in a riotous grin
that's half mischievous
and all pure pleasure
missrenie: (Default)
2010-10-25 01:10 am
Entry tags:

Confessions from the rabbit hole: Kink

I was recently asked the following question:  "How has kink helped you in your day to day life?"  It's a question I get asked often by people who know me and some who don't.  Although its most often phrased as: "Why the hell would you do that?" and quickly followed with the  business card of some really highly recommended physiologist being pressed urgently into my hand.

 

The answer is  involved and goes beyond the obvious of getting to play dress up in latex and leather and killer shoes...although that is a decidedly hot bonus.

 

Kink made an appearance at a very fucked up time in my life. I was just ending a long term relationship that was draining to all parties involved and I had gone from being sexually dead to freakishly alive. I was running wild and doing alot of unsafe things. Kink forced me to stop, listen to my body, get in touch with my body and made me realize that I was searching for very specifiic things:

~validation of my beauty,worth and goodness

~absolution from guilt through punishment

~awareness of my own body

~love and intimacy

 

I found all these things in kink along with some other stuff

 

Being able to withstand focus through extremely painful stimulation has taught me the power of my own mind. My body is screaming stop but my mind is very clearly screaming back "Take another, you can not be broken, will not be broken." Suddenly the aggravations of the mundane day to day became speedbumps instead of huge mountains.

 

The ability to turn pain to pleasure reminds me that the things in life that are hard to deal with have a lesson that goes with them bear any beating life dishes out will make me stronger in the end.

 

I am a huge control freak... life has turned me into that. With kink I am forced to believe that my partner will protect me, listen to me, push me past my comfort level but not past my sanity. Its softened me enough to let the right one in while hardening me enough to tell the wrong one to go directly to hell.

 

Being submissive has also shown me that I AM IN CONTROL. It is the submissive that says when the scene is or isn't over for the most part. It is the submissive that the Dominate is trying to please. It is the submissive that notices, listens, learns, gets under the skin.

 

My submission has shown me my worth and it is the accumulation of everything I am... everything that has brought me to this point in my life. I'm not just a girl bowing down to some Top. I am an intelligent, self possessed, self sufficient woman of color, an entrepreneur, artist and ego maniacal magnificent misfit. And if the Dom can't appreciate all that then he/she doesn't get to play.

 

As a Domme I learned how to give creative loving and intimate service to another person. I learned to listen for the unspoken words, to read sounds, faces, bodies and minds. How to be soft and tender and thoughtful and how important is it to give positive reinforcement to people. How much power I can have over another and how much I should respect that power and the person who gave it to me.

 

The ability to give and receive power in close union with another person as either a submissive or a Domme taught me confidence.  When some trusts you with their physical, emotional and mental safety it is a big responsibility.  If you can handle that you start to figure that you can handle alot of other things.  When you trust someone with your physical, emotional and mental safety you can't allow yourself to get stuck in what you look like as you go about your multitude of demanded tasks.  You have to focus on getting the job done and withstanding  to the best of your ability... not omg I look so fat and ugly right now. 

 

Kink taught me just how damn pretty I am...if you've ever been privileged to see the face of submission you would  how beautiful it is.  It is a beauty composed of love, trust and mutual respect and it is gorgeous regardless of age, weight, features, and blah blah blah.  It is deeper than the skin and beyond the bone.

 

I learned BOUNDARIES. I learned how to say no to myself and others when it is something that is not right for me.

 

The person that I am today was not here two years ago. My relationship broke me and kink was a big part of what rebuilt me. In a crazy fucked up way it was my salvation. It held up a mirror for me to see myself and reshape myself in the image that I chose. 

 

I didn't do it alone... I couldn't do it alone.  I had an amazing loving partner walk me through the rabbit hole.

That was two years ago but it feels like a life time. 

Two years ago I entered a dungeon for the first time

Two years ago I was bound to a mahogany cross of cool polished wood  and  painfully, pleasurably initiated into the surprisingly not so mysterious not so dark world of bondage discipline sadism and masochism

 

I died on that cross

and he brought me back to life

and for that

and for the woman he encourage me to be

I am eternally thankful and grateful.

 

missrenie: (Default)
2010-10-08 01:44 am

Adventures in Interracial Dating: Babies

For those of you who don't know we are kinda spoiled out here in California.  Some people out here are actually shocked to realize that racism still exists. When I recount stories from my childhood they cringe and say ooooooommmmmgeeeeeeee seriously dude.  They are rather dismayed to find that in certain areas of the United States your life expectations, habits, and activities are still dictated by the color of your skin. There is a whole list I could go into but near the top of that list is dating outside of the race.

 

Riiiing

me: Sup

~~:Hey

me: Haven't heard from you in a while

~~:Yeah... hey you really dating a white boy

me: ummmm yeah

~~:Yeah so you couldn't date me but you could date him

me: ummmm yeah

~~:is it because he's white

me: ummmm no it's because he doesn't suck... you know... like you.

 

 

 

Riiiiiiing

me: Hello

~~:Hello

me: Omgeee I haven't heard from you in forever!!!

~~:Yeah how your people and them

me: Good, where yah at darlin

~~:so so... so I heard that you are dating a white boy

me: You mean man

~~:Yeah "The Man" and I was thinking that maybe its just a phase like when you were a lesbian

me: I was never a lesbian

~~:I knew it!

me:No I never thought I was a lesbian I thought I  was bisexual

~~:oh well yeah that phase

me:It wasn't a phase I was just confused

~~:Yah you were

me: I wasn't lesbian or bisexual I'm totally pansexual

~~:Pah-what?!  What the hell is that?  Is that even a word? That's some shit you just made up.  Look whatever... just think about what you're getting into.

 

 

Riiiing

me: What

~~:(laughing)

me: What do you want

~~:I got a joke for you

me: Keep it

~~:Aww come on it's quick... knock knock

me: (silence)

~~:Knock Knock

me: (silence)

~~:Knock Knock

me: (sigh) Who's there

~~:Guess

me: Guess who

~~:Guess Who's coming to dinner!!!!! Bahahahahahahahaha

me: Damn't you suck!!! I'm hanging up!!!!

 

Okay so far and to date I've been accused of giving up on my black brothers, conspiring to "wash the line" (non-withstanding the fact that my ovaries are most likely completely useless) giving into a slave mentality and hating my own blackness. This is a complete double standard. 

 

I didn't take this much heat for dating a white woman.

 

~le sigh

anyways... I kinda expected all this so no big deal.  It's comical and something to blog about.  I was bouncing along pretty fine.  I had pre planned witty retorts tucked in all my pockets and a mug full of fuck you for the next person who was gonna preach to me about my failure as a black woman.  I was ready for anything

 

Anything except that old woman.

 

There is this woman I bump into sometimes... she calls me fat alot and gives me oranges.  I think this means she cares about me.   You maybe wondering why I subject myself to an old lady that verbally abuses me for my size then glares at me until I eat but she is totally the bees knees, gives great advice and is the exact kinda fuck-odd-devil-may-care-crazy I inspire to be at her age. She always asks me about my love life.  She is worried about me finding love since I am so fat.  She thinks I'll die old and alone which is really awful since I'm such a nice girl.   When I told her that I was dating she asked if he was fat too and I told her no.  She thought this was good because I would lose weight with him.  She then asked what he looked like and I told her, eyes, height, haircolor...

"Is he white"

"Yes"

"Ohhhh you will have such beautiful babies!!!!!"

 

I nearly chocked on my orange. She went on excitedly for five minutes about how lovely  our interracial children would be and how she wanted pictures.  She even gave me an extra orange.  The whole conversation left me feeling off balanced.  It was one of the few times I was stunned to silence.  I know she meant it as a compliment...I think, but we just started dating and she is already plotting our chromosomal mash-up exchange and outcome.  Besides aren't all babies supposed to be beautiful? Wait I can make that statement with a straight face...

 

I think

maybe...

 

Anywaysssssssssss, when I told him about it he kinda had the same reaction... "Did you thank her for planning the rest of our lives?"

 

She's not the only one who said that either.

 

At first I felt the need to say/scream  that my all black babies would be lovely and so would his all white babies. I think its hilarious that the people who support us so much that they want us to reproduce are making me more uncomfortable than the nay sayers. So I had to chill out and think about it.  Maybe when they see people who have love for each other despite the divide of ethnic and social differences it gives them hope for the world coming together as a whole... or maybe they really do have a fetish for multicultural children.

 

We were at Trader Joes gathering supplies to make a salad with. 

I suggested the white mushrooms because of the low price.

"The crimni have better coloring, same price"  And he grabs the brown mushrooms from the shelf.  I immediately become hypersensitive and hyper-aware... I even look around to see if anyone noticed.

"I think the white mushrooms have just as good coloring you know" I say defensively...  I may have pouted even.

 

He pauses and gives me an odd look... the one where he tilts his head to the side and kinda leans forward as if he is making sure that he is understanding what he is seeing.  I instantly stiffen and want to check my nose for buggers.  He pulls back and puts the brown mushrooms in the basket "You wanna know that I think... "  He says as he slips his fingers through mine and steers me toward checkout "I think that if the crimini mushrooms and the white mushrooms got together they would have beautiful babies."

missrenie: (Default)
2010-09-04 01:04 am

Year in Review

posting early because this weekend I will be too busy doing epic wildness, imbibing epic amounts achol. soaking up mega love rays like sunshine and  in various states of undress in multiple compromising positions (because of a photoshoot you wonderful freakniks)

 

 

A few days ago

I wanted to crawl into a tub,

slit my wrists and drown in my own emo-globin.

Don't worry

It happens every year as I get close to my birthday.

 

I start(like soo many of us do) to look at what I did or rather DID NOT do in the past 365, I reviewed a glaring account of my faults and mistakes and shortcomings. 

 

It was really pathetic.

Thankfully I have a really great roomie.

 

When I talked to her about how emo I was getting she basically told me I was smokin the crack.  That someone will always do more and be more than I am.  That I can not judge myself on that.  That I have to look at what I have done and how many people I have touched or affected and judge myself on that.

 

That list is full of the awesome: 

left a stable job to pursue my own dreams

continued to dance with Rubenesque Burlesque shakin the supersized naughty bit shamelessly for all the world to see

allowed myself to fall in love with a wonderful man

participated in panels regarding open sexual and spiritual beliefs

survived swine flu

humped the pole at Circus Circus

dyed my hair red, orange, pink and purple

apologized to my mother for being a pain in the ass

finally accepted the fact that I deserve to be happy

and much more stuff that my already sleep deprived brain won't let me remember

 

My life is not perfect

Actually it is perfect

in a diamond kinda way its totally perfect

it's got lots of faults but that makes it shines.

 

So here's to another year of being fierce phat and fabulous...

and here's to you beautiful people

because I wouldn't be here without you.
missrenie: (Default)
2010-08-30 12:12 pm

Dehydrated

I've been eating fire for the past few months. 
Dre had noticed it. 
Everything has been all cayenne and chili pepper flakes, wasabi, ginger and garlic, noodles doused in unnaturally flaming crimson  Sriracha Roster sauce, Louisiana Crystal Hot red dripping from a white and blue bottle burning down my throat.  I've been eating fire to keep from screaming my own red hot rage.

It hurts.
It's eating me inside out until I started to let it out.
It still hurts
It's burning me inside out until its all gone away

I'm thirsty now
I've been crying
My own tears trying to smoother flames gone wild and out of control.

My body seems to remember tears even if my spirit has forgotten them.

They come often now... wet hot visitors leaving trails straight from my eyes and down to my heart.
I wipe them away from left side of my face after  waking from a dreamless sleep
I tilt my head back from clients as I work on them so they won't get caught in my rain
They come in the shower as warm as the water washing over me

They are coming now


I thought long and hard last night as I watched white smoke curl up from the burning  incense.  Sticks  stuck in the earthen bowl filled with the salt.  Filled with remnants of the sun kissed ocean's tears.  As the sound of drums temporarily filled in the cracks of my temporarily broken spirit. 

This is a good thing.

I am feeling.  I am feeling all these things because I am finally surrounded by all the people, places and things that make me feel safe enough to do so.  The collective, protective, purifying salt, my feet planted firmly in the earth and they hold me there like roots and keep me from falling over, falling down, falling dead.  

I'm screaming, spewing fire from my spirit and it's dangerous.  It's harming me but the tears are soothing it, washing it clean making a steam of it so all those angry spirits, all those lost ghosts within can rise up and out and away into the dark night to be cleansed and reborn.

I'm thirsty now
I can hardly keep up
I'm drowning in them
but the sun's gonna come out
I'll dance a heathen spiral and summon it to me
We'll kiss the pain away
And all that will be left will be bueatiful diamonds shining in the light

I'm finally not ashamed to cry.
missrenie: (Default)
2010-08-30 01:40 am

How I really feel

I can't sleep
My throat is closing up and it's because I have been holding back things that I have really wanted to say.  A part of me wants to be objective about this thing but I bigger part of me is saying fuck it.
I really can't afford to get sick again
So I'm just gonna go ahead and say how I really feel.

Congratulations,

You are indeed an asshole.  Actually you are the crowned king of all assholes you manipulative, vindictive, jack ass.  You self absorbed shit head.

I hate you
I actually hate you
and I hate that you are still here, that you still affect me. 

I want you gone
I want you out of my head
I want you out of my body
I want you out of my spirit

I can't believe it took me this long to realize how abused I was, how misshapen I was, how fucked I was.
I can't believe it took me this long to become angry
I can't believe I was sooo ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHH

I was sick sick sick.  You were this cancerous thing and what I let you do to me dear sweet goddess what I let you do to me, with me is unforgivable.

I'm scarred and damaged and forever changed 
you sick fuck.

I had to relearn to cry
I had to relearn to scream
I had to relearn to feel
I had to jump start my system with painful extremes and electric shocks... literally.  Like fucking literally.

I want you to feel everything I felt.  I want to put you through that hell you fashioned for me with your own hands and  the worse thing... the scary thing is that I don't even feel sorry for feeling that way.  You probally won't though.  You'll never understand or accept responsibility for what happened and I have to learn to be okay with that.

Congratulations asshole....
You broke me.
You murdered me so thoroughly that I had to start me all over again.
I'm better, stronger, faster lol... I love who I am today but damn it should not have happened this way.

I'm going hiking.  I'm going into the hills and I'm taking this thing that I have in my hand with me.  And when I reach a spot high enough, wide enough, wild enough I'm gonna scream.  Until I can't speak, until I can't whimper. Ohhhhhhhh I'm gonna curse epic profanities until they echo into nothingness, I'm gonna beat the ground until my hands ache and I'm covered in sweat  and then I'm gonna toss it into the abyss and pretend its you, and your lies, and that cage you put me in.

And when I come back
I'm getting some therapy

I'm pissed that I can't send you the fucking bill!!!!

This year I'm giving myself the best birthday gift I can imagine. 
A life free of you.
A me free of you.
missrenie: (Default)
2010-05-21 10:43 pm

Enjoy

It's been one month
in one month you have turned me into one of those people that I promised myself I would be never be again.

I'm writing poetry
I'm humming
I'm  fucking glowing
and everyone can see it.

I'm so annoyed and overjoyed and of course looking for every possible inconceivable reason why it wouldn't work.  
Lena told me something last night
She noticed that I had been up all night every night for the past two weeks.... she told me that  I was gonna get sick  and that I was hurting myself.

I told her that I'm freaking out and can't sleep because everything is going so well.

She said that life gets shitty and then its not shitty and then it's shitty and to just enjoy the not shitty parts of it instead of freaking out in my usual manner because that just makes the non shitty times shitty.

I told her that I felt like I didn't deserve it, like I didn't earn this life I have now.  That I feel guilty for being happy.  She basically called me weird and told me to get over it.

And she's right.
I deserve this.
I deserve you.
so I'll stop sabotaging myself 
and I won't sabotage us

Today you did something in the "one butt" kitchen as we danced around each other making a trashy vegan dinner.that included tater tots which you insisted on using since hashbrowns were too classy for this dish.  It was something very OCD and very analytical,  very understandable to me even though someone else would have looked at you as if you were crazy.  

I already loved you  but just then the scales tipped and fell in love with you.  As you had your back to me with your broad shoulders slightly hunched over the sink I fell in love with you and wondered why it took me so long to see you.  How could I miss you standing there when I have been looking for you for so damn long.
missrenie: (Default)
2010-05-07 09:31 am
Entry tags:

Fat on Phat Violence

Disclaimers: the following post contains multiple, continuous and flagrantly shameless use of the words: fuck, bitch, and FAT If any of these words offend you or if you're one of my former English teachers please navigate away from this page now



Dear Ungrateful Fat Bitches,

WTF
nobody put's baby in a corner

I expected hate from the "mainstream" but from you. You're breaking my god damn heart. I knew when I started doing burlesque that I would have an uphill battle to fight but I can't believe you are trying to drag my ass down too. Oh you are flag waving for equality, bitching about how people treat you differently, crying about all that bullshit you went though in grade school but when it comes down to it sometimes you are just as much part of the problem.


Lets start with the thing that pisses me off the most. More than the fuck-me-never frumpy grey clothes you wear, the constant newest fad diets you go on, or the enabling support groups where you get together and cry. Lets start with this: The whole. utter and complete dismissal of yourself as a sexually potent human being...


I keep getting these response from other big women:
#1 We are about celebrating our curves not sexualizing them
#2What you are doing is perpetuating a harmful fetishism
#3 We deserve to be loved not put on embarrassing display


1
Ummmm... you lost me sweetness what better celebration of your curves, then covering it with glitter and dancing the night away.


2
The idea that my particular thunda thighs are floating her boat or rockin his cock doesn't break my flow sugah. It's not like I have to stand there and watch them do it to it. I'll pose for a picture for private use...and if they want panties that costs extra (you freaks know how to reach me ;) ) . Besides like someone pointed out to me the other day skinny women don't get pissed off that people find them attractive just because they are skinny. Or do ya'll?


3
I really wished you believed that... because if you did then you would not fall for prey to being what Kathryn calls the "grateful fat chick". I am not a grateful fat chick but I used to be. I was that fat girl that would be oh so happpy that someone was checking her out, asking her out, or calling her pretty. I was that fat girl that was content to let him touch her in private even if he didn't hold her hand in public. I was that fat girl that was starving for his compliments and hungrily eating all the bullshit he spit out. I am no longer a grateful fat chick... now I'm a phat bitch


I'm out there shaking my wide ass and jiggling my tits not just to appease my behemoth sized ego but to liberate you, reeducate the masses and fuck with the heads of fat-o-phobs. I'm fighting to be free in mind and expression. Yeah I'm taking my clothes off but if you look past that you'll see that I have the ovaries and intestinal fortitude to live my dream at my present size in my present body unapologetically and that is something that extends beyond the stage.

That's the real reason you fat bitches hate on me. I am shoving in your face what you want to run from most,what you cover up with girdles and cinch in with control top panties. Because you have not let go of your shame, and self loathing. Because someone beat you down so hard you are trying to beat me down too.

But I don't want to beat you down,
I don't want to embarrass you.
I want you to really see, to really accept how fabulous you are, how deserving you are how damn pretty you are.


And don't give me that it's so easy for you bullshit either. I went though it too, from sneak eating to starving, from depression so deep that I could not step outside... I'd binge and purge on self hate with side orders of hot steamy shame. I may not always be fat.. you may one day be skinny but we are ALWAYS human beings. And as human beings we have basics needs that are physical, spiritual, emotional, mental, sexual.

Because I believe fat bitches need love too
Because I believe that this phat bitch needs love too I refuse to let your fear, past rejections and negative reflections suppress my sexuality, my sensuality, my personality .


Nobody puts baby in the corner!!
Besides there is too much of me to even fuck around at pretending at being invisible.
All 5'6 279 pounds of me demands to be respected to be loved, to be touched, to be sexualized and fetish-ized and glamorized and seen for the powerful beautiful woman that I am.

so do me a favor
cut a bitch a break
and stop weighing me down with all your misplaced hate.




oh and Dr Phil... BITE ME!!




fab photo of Rubenesque Burlesque by JOHNNY CRASH
missrenie: (Default)
2010-05-03 04:16 am
Entry tags:

(no subject)

I know I was cryptic when I called you
" I need to see you now there is something I have to tell you.  We're fine.  Plans have changed and I won't stay long"

All you said was "Okay"  not even in a condescending way or a questioning way.  As if you took what I said at face value.
You were frowning slightly when you opened the door before but then you looked at me and when you see me you get this look of pleasure on your face that made everything I had just gone through completely worth it.  I grip your forearm and look you in the eyes and I am surprised at how calm my voice is and how steady I feel.  Maybe it is because you gripped my arm as well.

~I called you.  I normally text but I called you.  Is that okay? I ask
Yeah... I just don't think I do well over the phone
~Yeah you do kinda suck at it.  I almost had to remind myself that you actually like me
I'm good on phone interview though.
~I believe you.
How are you?
~Good... no actually I'm kinda feeling awful
What happened?
~Things ended with Daddy.  He's jealous.  I stood up for myself, for my relationship with you and he couldn't deal.  He ended it to hurt me...again. So I called his bluff and ended it for real.
How are you?
~Pissed off but other than that I'm well.... your hair is distracting
I cut it
~It looks good really good... but even with that hair cut I can't stay.  The girls kinda have this pool party thing and I should be with them having girly therapy.  Besides I think it would be wrong if I took out my emotional angst on a fierce make out session with you and I doubt that you would let me anyway---
You kiss me until I fall ungracefully into you
Are you okay?you ask as you push my back into a proper standing position
~You actually made my knees weak.
That's why we normally do this sitting down.... but I mean about your Daddy Dom?
~Remains to be seen.  I am going to be processing alot more
Do you think you will get a new Dom?
~God no!!! Well maybe...not for a while.  I need down time you know...
I understand and when you do know that I am okay with that.
And you kiss me again.
~Damn't!!
What?
~My fuckin knees don't work and I can't stay
We should sit
~Are you gonna kiss me some more? Because if you are I totally need to spit out this gum.
Good thinking... you should spit.

And I stay for 15 wonderful minutes.  There is kissing and laughter,  your warm hands on the exposed skin of my shoulders, your lips against my forehead, the sound of you breathing me in falls deep under the high squeal of my delight that you are actually doing such a thing, your soft moans are less controlled and I think I hump your leg a little....er alot.  

"Time!" you announce as you brush your nose against mine. And suddenly your standing helping me up and ushering me towards that door as you inform me of tomorrow's dinner menu.  I offer to bring dessert and then I leave with the promise of seeing you tomorrow. And then I fly into the waiting arms of my wild sisters.  I bitch and curse, recount, laugh, eat omgeeeeeeeee did I eat.  Commiserated with one who had just gone through the same.  I  left a huge bit of my sorrow in the icy cold waters... I feel clean.

I feel loved